Sunset in the Rear-view MirrorWritten by Sheryl Simons
Sunset in Rear-view Mirror Driving home from work late one night, I couldn't help but notice it was almost dusk. I was headed North, and driving right along with setting sun on my left. With a slight headache, my thoughts drifted through day at work that was over. I work at a domestic violence shelter, and it seems one can never know from one moment to next what to expect. As I drive home at end of day, it is not unusual for me to think of my life, and all changes that have come about. I once was victim of domestic violence, myself. I was never beaten. I was threatened, had things broken, yelled at, but these were not something I could easily identify as abuse. I'd always thought abuse was hitting; a physical pain. The sky was slowly darkening and feathery wisps of clouds turned to pretty pastels. I continued to keep one eye on clouds as I watched road and let my mind wander. I often had tried to reason with my husband. He need not yell. I could hear what he was trying to say. I just didn't always agree with him. Did we have to think same way about everything? Was that what it meant to be submissive, I often wondered. I usually acquiesced. He was head of household, I was wife. That was my role. He plowed ahead, I tried to follow. Often I felt put-down and betrayed; butt of his jokes. He actually seemed to enjoy putting me down, but my own husband wouldn't do that, would he? He loved me! I must be cause of our problems. Sometimes he used my ideas and passed them off as his. If it was my idea, how could it be right? Silly me, I was stupid one. It was just easier to agree and go along, than fight. I wanted peace at any cost. I didn't know it cost giving up myself. But no one else seemed to notice, no one but me. And life had been so promising. I'd been a good student. I hadn't made many of mistakes my classmates had made. I thought I was steady and a common sense thinker, but why couldn't I do anything right in my marriage? Our three children were not butt of his violent temper, I was. As long as it was directed at me, it didn't hurt them, did it? My car left freeway, and I was now headed in opposite direction of beautiful sunset that was transpiring. I hated to leave florescent sky behind, but my trip must continue. I was headed home. Home now, was not with man I married. After 16 years, I'd left him, unable through counseling to find any way to reconcile our miserable marriage. When we went to pastors and counselors, I again was 'bad guy'. By this time I was convinced that he didn't love me. I realized how evil he had really been. My family was devastated by divorce. No one in our family 'divorced'. It wasn't done. My family's shame was almost worse than bad marriage. But there were secrets that even they didn't know. I tried to explain, but I couldn't bring myself to relive details. If they wouldn't trust me, I was on my own. Couldn't anyone understand? I learned to live with that pain, as well. I had never felt so lonely.
| | "Mended Heart"Written by Gail Pursell Elliott
Many of us at some point in our lives have suffered from what some people refer to as a 'broken heart.' This of course is not referring to our physical heart but an emotional condition that can affect our physical well being as well other aspects of our lives. Even though we are not referring to a physical break, we often treat a broken heart way we would a broken arm. We put it in a cast, a thick protective coating that nothing can penetrate. It is immobilized for an appropriate amount of time so that healing has a chance to occur. It is important not to disturb it to avoid further trauma.If you ever have broken your arm, you know what it looks like when cast is removed. It looks thinner, sometimes almost shriveled. It is covered with dead, discolored skin that has a pretty foul odor. It is weak from lack of use. In some cases, therapy may be necessary to restore full mobility. And for a number of years afterward, location of break, though healed, may occasionally ache. When we have a broken bone, we are rushed to assistance so that further complications do not result. If left untreated, we might be left with mild to severe disability that can be more difficult to correct later. Depending upon type and severity of break, bone fragments may damage surrounding tissue, cause bleeding, and other types of internal trauma that might lead to more serious conditions. At no time are we told to 'just get over it.' We are given pain medication if necessary and are treated with some kind of accommodation to help us adapt to our daily lives until bone is fully healed. The people in our lives treat us with extra caring and consideration. You don't feel it necessary to hide fact that your arm is broken. You know how long cast should remain in place before removing it. The rate of healing can be checked by radiology to make sure cast isn't removed too soon. There is a specific treatment protocol and you are given instructions to follow. If circumstances surrounding what caused break result in anxiety, it is acknowledged as real. Generally, one doesn't die from a broken arm. A broken arm doesn't feel humiliated, embarrassed, lost, or betrayed. There are some people, however, who have died from results of being broken hearted. Some felt they could not live with pain and ended it themselves. Others succumbed to physical illnesses that developed through complications caused by unrelenting stress of grief and an inability or unwillingness to forgive. Some are walking around with disabilities of varying degrees as a result of same factors. These conditions are not always obvious and sometimes deliberately hidden.
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