Physical & Emotional Abuse Support Group
Abuse is a general term for the treatment of someone that causes some kind of harm (to the abused person, to the abusers themselves, or to someone else) that is unlawful or wrongful. No one deserves abuse, period. Abuse can be emotional, physical, or sexual.
It seems that there's a lot going on here recently. So here:
I sit in a room with a man. He's getting older, and has been going through a rough spot lately. As he sits in his chair, his shoulders sag with the weight of the burdens he has carried this far. He's been through a lot, and has been doing the best that he can, making the best choices he can, even when they don't always turn out great.
I know what that's like.
He's tired of people assuming he'll be nice and good - tired of them assuming that he'll give to them whatever they want. He's tired of people getting angry at him, and accusing him of being pretty and spiteful and nasty, simply because they don't understand what he's trying to do, or because they aren't getting what they want from him.
Boy, do I know what that feels like.
He's not looking for a solution, an easy fix. He doesn't want anyone to take the lass which is his. But he sure would appreciate knowing that someone knows how hard he's tried, how far he's come, and how far he has yet to go. Someone that he can let down his guards, and let them see the pain, the weariness, the sorrow, the anger. And know that sharing that knowledge won't be used against him later. He can be vulnerable, and still safe. Not an easy thing for guys to do, sometimes.
I can do that for him.
I can sit and look into his eyes, and look for that pain. I know it's there. And I feel it with him. He's not alone. I know how hard he's tried, how bitter the failures are, how painful the betrayals. Words aren't necessary. I know exactly where he is, emotionally, and I take the time to wade into that swamp, just to be there with him. So he isn't alone in that terrible place. And even as we share his pain, I share my admiration for him. I don't know how he's taken the high road so often. His strength, his compassion, his endurance... they amaze me. I bring that to him, and we share that, too. Tears flow down his face as he accepts those gifts I bring to him. It's more than he ever hoped hour - he just wanted a bit of company, some understanding. To be understood so completely is... a gift beyond measure.
We gather ourselves, wipe away the tears, both make notes that we need to do this more often. And then I stand, and walk away from the mirror, alone no longer. Ready to face the day.
I sit in a room with a man. He's getting older, and has been going through a rough spot lately. As he sits in his chair, his shoulders sag with the weight of the burdens he has carried this far. He's been through a lot, and has been doing the best that he can, making the best choices he can, even when they don't always turn out great.
I know what that's like.
He's tired of people assuming he'll be nice and good - tired of them assuming that he'll give to them whatever they want. He's tired of people getting angry at him, and accusing him of being pretty and spiteful and nasty, simply because they don't understand what he's trying to do, or because they aren't getting what they want from him.
Boy, do I know what that feels like.
He's not looking for a solution, an easy fix. He doesn't want anyone to take the lass which is his. But he sure would appreciate knowing that someone knows how hard he's tried, how far he's come, and how far he has yet to go. Someone that he can let down his guards, and let them see the pain, the weariness, the sorrow, the anger. And know that sharing that knowledge won't be used against him later. He can be vulnerable, and still safe. Not an easy thing for guys to do, sometimes.
I can do that for him.
I can sit and look into his eyes, and look for that pain. I know it's there. And I feel it with him. He's not alone. I know how hard he's tried, how bitter the failures are, how painful the betrayals. Words aren't necessary. I know exactly where he is, emotionally, and I take the time to wade into that swamp, just to be there with him. So he isn't alone in that terrible place. And even as we share his pain, I share my admiration for him. I don't know how he's taken the high road so often. His strength, his compassion, his endurance... they amaze me. I bring that to him, and we share that, too. Tears flow down his face as he accepts those gifts I bring to him. It's more than he ever hoped hour - he just wanted a bit of company, some understanding. To be understood so completely is... a gift beyond measure.
We gather ourselves, wipe away the tears, both make notes that we need to do this more often. And then I stand, and walk away from the mirror, alone no longer. Ready to face the day.
Whether we realize it or not, I think many of us struggle with being able to validate, trust & accept ourselves, our feelings and what we've been thru. Many of us find it almost impossible to trust ourselves, our feelings and/or our gut when we are with an abuser. We keep hoping for validation from the abuser when the only thing we get when we look to the abuser is a reflection from a fun house mirror. Even those outside can't, won't or aren't able to empathize and/or validate our feelings unless they have been there.
I started intense therapy about 5 yrs ago. It's been hard work and a process of peeling away a lifetime of layers of hurt & pain and self protection. I am finally in a place where I am able to begin the very process that you described so beautifully. All of what we need and want comes from within. Trust, validation, acceptance, strength, wisdom, admiration, endurance, compassion and unconditional self-love.
My prayer for everyone in this group is that we all find these priceless gifts.
Whoever and whatever else we choose to let into our lives, we all surely deserve to count ourselves as our own best friend.
This made me cry, in a good, necessary way.
Thank you xxx