
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.

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Why am I always apologizing? Why am I always willing to take the blame even if the fault does not lie with me (or the other person either)?
I am so tired. Tired of the struggle. Tired of fighting. Nothing (no matter how hard I try to succeed) changes. Its just the continual cycle of fear. Fear generated by my own past.
How can I dispell the fear? How can I separate my pain from another's? I do not like who I am anymore. I lay awake in the darkness and I ask Divine not to let me go through all this again. But I did. I sunk deep into that black pit and I lost 2 things that meant the world to me..(aside from my babies).
"Please dont let me do this" I would ask. Inevitably, I knew I had to because everything happens for a reason even if we arent aware of what it is at the time.
I know I have to still go through this so that I may inevitably help others by sharing my own experiences, but at the same time my heart is breaking, not just because of what Im going through but for those who still must endure.
I see the look in his eyes when he speaks of his abuse. I hear the pain and anger in his voice when he relays the tales of what his father did to his mother and him as a child. Yet he tells me he's dealt with it. Sorry, I do not believe him. No one can be that angry if they have worked through it.
Anger that he tells me doesnt exist.
I want to be able to trust him beyond all measure and in some ways I do. I dont feel I trust him enough to tell him all this what I say here. I would like to be able to talk to him without him being judgemental and critical of me. But because we are so immeshed...that isnt going to happen. I know I let him down. I know I failed him when he needed me most. But he should also realize that while he kept pushing me to make his dream a reality, mine were being neglected. I know I shouldnt be so torn up but it grieves me to know that I have let him down, disappointed him, and failed him.
Last night I was having chest pains during our argument. He only said are you ok now after I had had calmed myself down..no easy task there. All he did was sit there. I guess my stress level being so high to cause chest pains doesnt matter.
I hate this. I hate feeling so useless. I feel like a pressure cooker left unattended and about to blow its lid. I used to feel so sure of myself, confident, strong..now I feel as though I were falling apart.
I dont understand how I allowed myself to become so doubtful.
I am so tired. Tired of the struggle. Tired of fighting. Nothing (no matter how hard I try to succeed) changes. Its just the continual cycle of fear. Fear generated by my own past.
How can I dispell the fear? How can I separate my pain from another's? I do not like who I am anymore. I lay awake in the darkness and I ask Divine not to let me go through all this again. But I did. I sunk deep into that black pit and I lost 2 things that meant the world to me..(aside from my babies).
"Please dont let me do this" I would ask. Inevitably, I knew I had to because everything happens for a reason even if we arent aware of what it is at the time.
I know I have to still go through this so that I may inevitably help others by sharing my own experiences, but at the same time my heart is breaking, not just because of what Im going through but for those who still must endure.
I see the look in his eyes when he speaks of his abuse. I hear the pain and anger in his voice when he relays the tales of what his father did to his mother and him as a child. Yet he tells me he's dealt with it. Sorry, I do not believe him. No one can be that angry if they have worked through it.
Anger that he tells me doesnt exist.
I want to be able to trust him beyond all measure and in some ways I do. I dont feel I trust him enough to tell him all this what I say here. I would like to be able to talk to him without him being judgemental and critical of me. But because we are so immeshed...that isnt going to happen. I know I let him down. I know I failed him when he needed me most. But he should also realize that while he kept pushing me to make his dream a reality, mine were being neglected. I know I shouldnt be so torn up but it grieves me to know that I have let him down, disappointed him, and failed him.
Last night I was having chest pains during our argument. He only said are you ok now after I had had calmed myself down..no easy task there. All he did was sit there. I guess my stress level being so high to cause chest pains doesnt matter.
I hate this. I hate feeling so useless. I feel like a pressure cooker left unattended and about to blow its lid. I used to feel so sure of myself, confident, strong..now I feel as though I were falling apart.
I dont understand how I allowed myself to become so doubtful.
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You May Think Domestic Violence Has Nothing to Do with You.
That's exactly what these four people thought; until the day they found out someone close to them was being abused. The fact is, one in three Americans knows someone who has been in a violent relationship within the last year -- what they choose to do with that knowledge could help bring this epidemic to an end.
My wife is a domestic-abuse survivor."
-Adam Voyles, 31, stockbroker, Arizona
I used to think women who said they were victims of domestic violence were saying it to get attention. I've never raised my hand to any woman, so it was hard for me to understand how a man could do that. Now I know it happens. It happened to my wife.
I first met Amilia at church in March 2004. When I asked for her phone number, she hesitated, but then gave it to me. When she didn't show up to church for a few weeks, I called to make sure she was okay. She said she was staying in a hotel with her kids -- a mini-vacation. Something seemed a little off, but I wasn't quite sure what. We hadn't discussed past relationships; all I knew was that the man she was divorcing lived in town.
We started going to parks with our kids -- her son is 10 and her girls are 7 and 6, my boys are 9 and 7 -- and I started spending time at her house, having dinner, watching movies. That's where I first got a hunch that something was seriously wrong. When Amilia's ex would call, I could hear his yelling from across the room. I also noticed Amilia giving advice to women over the phone. When I realized she went to weekly meetings at a domestic violence organization, I figured that she must have been a victim herself. Still, I respected her privacy; she'd tell me when she was ready.
One day, I was driving her kids somewhere, and her 6-year-old said, "Did you know my daddy tied my mommy up once?" I was dumbfounded, and said, "No." And then she said, "She died, but then came back to life." That night, I asked Amilia if it was true. She started to shake when she told me: Her ex-husband had choked her; that's why she and the kids were staying in that hotel. I promised her I would make sure that never happened again.
The next time he came to the house for the kids, I waited by the door. He hopped out of his truck with a big smile and open arms until Amilia came out to ask about child support -- he owed her $32,000. That's when I saw his rage: His fists clenched and his face reddened. He became a totally different person.
I worried as much about the kids as I did about Amilia. He played mind games, promising them an allowance and then paying one but not the other two. He'd say, "See you guys next week," and disappear for months. It devastated them.
By the time I learned everything about her relationship -- how she left him in Ohio and he followed her here to Arizona -- I'd fallen in love with her. I told her the past didn't matter; we needed to move forward.
We married that April -- about five months after our first real date -- a year after we'd met. I'm in the process of adopting the kids now. Planning the wedding, we didn't mention specific details around the kids for fear they'd let something slip while with their dad. Amilia has a restraining order, but she also had one in place when he tied her up and choked her -- and it didn't stop him.
He continues to haunt us. We moved, so he doesn't know where we live, but recently, he spotted Amilia in town and followed her to a gas station to confront her. Amilia called his parole officer -- she reports every incident. It's all she can do. He haunts us in other ways, too. I can see the effects of the abuse in the children. Her boy, the eldest, has a lot of bottled-up anger. He freaked out on me one day; later I had to bear-hug him and say, "I'm not trying to hurt you." I have to constantly remind the older girl that when I say I'll do something, I do it. The littlest one still cries out in her sleep from nightmares about a man who is coming to get her.
As for Amilia, if I walk into a room unannounced, she jumps with fright. Once, I came into the bedroom after she dozed off and she jumped up saying, "I didn't mean to fall asleep!" with pure fear in her eyes. It broke my heart. I don't know if that's ever going to go away. All I can do is hug her and promise her she's safe with me.