The case

So its been really tough dealing with the justice system, as is obvious. I couldn’t even bring the nerve to write about it here, for the most part I just tried to forget about it. However, one thing that has really taken me by surprise is that there are so many other women in exactly the same situation. Women who have been violated and oppressed in ways that I cannot even  begin to express.  Their pain, their wounds , entire epics of torture hidden behind insufferable eyes. I feel less alone but at the same time am saddened that such abuse is so common, common enough to be the norm.

The fact is that i’m not going to be the last woman he does this to.Unfortunately, the law treats the oppressed and the oppressor to the same level of behaviour and justice is for those that can afford better lawyers. However, my only hope has been the ability to I write my story down, it may just be an echo in a crowd of screams but still it resonates enough to matter. I have also learned that there is no such thing as liberty, the worst prisons are of the invisible kind. But perhaps one day, just one day this world will be one where hope is less painful than despair.

writing and discussion

I feel tht writing here, even though only at moments when I was at my lowest really helped. It was really about telling my story, the power that comes from telling one’s story. Even though in random snippets or perhaps in terrible english with grammatical errors, I could express myself.  I sometimes read back to what I wrote here to remind myself  of thoughts and feelings. I don’t write here as often, perhaps because writing my story has given me permission to discuss it. I am stronger than before.

three years

I can’t believe it’s almost three years for this blog. That even three years later here I am. It all seems like yesterday.

Burning

This photo reminded me of myself. If justice is a cause, I’m dying alone.

side by side

sinking inwards

shattered fragments

dizzy memories

brittle, devoured soul crumbs

all together

side by side

ticking clocks, useless noise

honking horns

traffic rush

crowds and their smells

septic rooms

altogether side by side

reminded

i was reminded of a very important fact today. One of my own Isolation.

 word of the week:

isolate

1.	to set or place apart; detach or separate so as to be alone.

indispensable

I phoned dad and talked to him for as long as i could (insert a couple of hours). It’s awesome how he makes this feel so much better.

I rescheduled the whole “justice and court dates” so that i could get back on track.

I am drinking copious amounts of coffee, which always feels good.

2 am thoughts

why me?

will this pain ever end?

I wish I had done things differently?

How do I break the silence?

There is no solution, no sense , to answer to these questions.

….but to turn to God. That is the only way I can see even though I have been an agnostic most of my life.

I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t breathe…. but most painful of all I can’t dream.

Of the many things I was raped of my trust, my innocence, my calm.

the numbness isn’t here tonight….I can’t stop crying.

 

I thought I was getting better, oh go away…go away far far away.

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not my cup of tea

I’m learning new things about justice in particular and the “subjectivities” that disfavor women. They always say that going through the Justice system is tough. Everyone warned me that it would be painful and difficult and hard. However, no amount of anticipation could have prepared me for this….what i’m going through now. My conclusion is that Justice often takes more than gives in return. The many more women like me will suffer like this. Perhaps even worse.  

The relaxation techniques I learnt in the beginning of this year do really help  so i’m going to go and try to practice some deep breathing relaxation techniques.

Beautiful

I put on my favorite white woolen sweater, one that makes me feel cozy and very pretty at the same time.

With a beautiful stroke of black I outlined the edge of my eyelids. Tender blush on my cheeks and softness on my lips.

I looked in the mirror and the thought of you is on my face, a smile radiant through my eyes.

In a moment I stroked the top of my leg to feel my own touch.

I looked at my shoulder, that seemed to be shiny and withdrawn at the same time.

I posed with my red heels and decided on flats.

There I was in my own reflection: complete, an air of happiness……a smile gleaning through my own eyes.

I thought all this was for you, but now I realize how much this is for me….. really.

Then you

….my knees feel weak.

You compliment my necklace, as I tell you its’ own little story.

You call me beautiful with an intensity, such faith in me.

As I try to counter your calmness, I realize that I have been here before….that I have heard that word beautiful before. The familiarity of the narrow pain of it’s confines trapped me for far to long not too long ago.

I know I must walk away. That my weak knees only want to walk back to you. Run to you. Hold you.

..

…

…..

I realize that I didn’t walk back to you.