The Abominable Mrs. Phibes

On abuse..

I’m officially a victim of domestic abuse. A man with whom I was in a sexual relationship slammed my body to his hard wooden floor. The impact caused me to have a concussion where I didn’t feel like myself for three whole weeks. It now reminds of being in a pill induced stupor. My mind was slow and my actions impulsive. I napped constantly and hardly made it through my four hours of morning work without drooling on myself or falling asleep on the tile floor. 

Now a month after my initial injury my balance is impaired and my range of motion is still severely retarded. I cannot touch the top of my head with my left hand and it takes me roughly twenty minutes to get dressed. These days I celebrate the smallest of victories: tying lace-up shoes, doing my own hair, catching myself in a fall, using a proper keyboard… All these things show that my physical state is improving and I’m hoping for a full recovery.

As for my mental state I feel people are far too assuming. So a man that urinates sitting down (true) was intimidated enough by me to feel the need to physically dominate me in desperation; why would I doubt myself? Why would I feel I am to blame, feel sorry for myself? I notice emotional coddling from local agencies such as Saving Grace and their affiliates. I was treated like a woman made of crystal threads ready to collapse at any moment. I found that to be almost as offensive as the actual act of violence. People at grocery stores do the same thing. I am always escorted out with assistance and strangers come up and ask me what happened to my arm.

That’s offensive for a number of reasons. First and foremost it’s rude to ask an injured or otherwise disabled person how they ended up the where they are, what they have and how it happened. We tell our children not to stare at people with oxygen or a missing leg. One never knows the details of another person’s life and I think it’s awfully assuming of a total stranger to come up to me and start talking about something that makes me stand out.

I do not wish to be treated any different from a person without a wrapped up arm. Sure it’s frustrating needing assistance with certain aspects of daily living. I don’t like asking for help and needing it makes my stomach churn. And I’m angry that a man would feel the need to do this to me. Being reminded of this constant physical handicap is not making me a happy person. I get frustrated when I can’t close the window when it’s cold outside and scared when I lose the grip of the steering wheel.

What’s most frustrating about this whole situation isn’t any emotional trauma that has taken place. I don’t feel fragile and I’m not afraid. Really, I’m just pissed off that my life has been inconvenienced by someone else’s actions. How greedy he was to take my time away, to take my independence away. And how careless of him to cause an injury that puts me in further danger if I attempt to fulfill any part of my normal everyday life.

Don’t offer to help me. I am a strong and capable woman. If I need help, I’ll ask for it. Most importantly, if you see anyone in public that has any kind of disability please don’t attempt to talk to them about it. Instead of drilling for information or staring just pass on a smile or kind gesture. Be considerate, even if that means being quiet.

Refused Flat.

So I was given the title ‘battered woman’ when he hurt me. He slammed me on the floor, tried to oppress me. My friend, what you’ve done is take on a strong and powerful woman, a previously horribly abused woman who never got an ounce of justice.

Good luck.