My Domestic Violence

The best thing about your home should be that the moment you walk through the door, your shoulders should drop and relax.  From your bed, you should see the sea, if not, then you should at least see sky, so moonlight can shine on your pillow, and the light of dawn can wake your sleeping eyes.

  Life, and your home, shouldn't smack you in the face, it should feel restrained, and it should just creep up on you. If it doesn't feel like that, then know something is horribly wrong, and waiting for it to feel horribly right again, may just be, the wasting of your ONLY one lifetime. 

There should never be devastation on a daily basis, as time goes on, your instinct should take over like some kind of sixth sense, never become too complacent. The upside of all of this is that it will make you think actively about whether you are actually living life, or simply existing as a means to your ending. 

As my own experiences grew I would pass through areas of great fecundity into a wasteland of rubble as barren as the surface of the moon. It took me awhile (actually, it took me years) to realize that these were the parts of my life that were shockingly empty and devoid of any real life. I find my vision now looking forward sullied by my own real knowledge of the emptiness that often lies beneath so many relationships, or marriages. I am soiled by the raw hard facts of how horribly a relationship can turn sour, and the pitfalls you fall prey to, just to continue staying within the guidelines of it, as if it is a pass or fail test, and you need to pass, even if it kills you.

In the deciding to speak out (on Domestic Violence), a voice has taken shape, my voice has taken shape. Writing was just one more thing I had always put aside, hung up on a shelf, stripped from myself, and, now, that has taken shape as well. As I will always be continuously emerging from the weeds, I shall never again hide under the cloak of denial, as the cloak I chose is what nearly suffocated me. 

The choice to finally breathe is what saved me.

Get out, because it never gets better, and, in fact, it almost always gets incredibly worse!