‘Why did I fall so hard?’

emotional-abuse

The Psychological Abuse I experienced is the nemesis for my poetry and my book which is nearly completed for publication. I also write a blog and opinion pieces on emotional abuse. Below is my latest article published in The Journal.ie today in light of the legislation explaining why making Coercive Control a criminal offense in Ireland is so Significant.


The French criminalized “psychological violence” as have the British and now Ireland has joined ranks with the passage of the Domestic Violence Bill 2017 through the Houses of the Oireachtas to include coercive control” within intimate relationships as a crime. This has to be one of the most significant pieces of legislation to come before the Oireachtas this year.

Coercive control is often talked about as if it is a mild form of domestic violence, which is a mistake. Emotional abuse is devastating and can often be more traumatic than physical wounds. Bruises and broken bones eventually heal and may leave scars, but emotional trauma stays with you and shapes who you are as a person. It leaves an indelible injury, one that is not as visible, but physically affects and damages the brain.

The Department of Justice released a press release in which they state “The new offense of coercive control sends a clear, consistent message that non-violent control in an intimate relationship is criminal. The effect of such behavior may be as harmful to victims as physical abuse because it is an abuse of the unique trust associated with an intimate relationship.”

Coercive control creates the psychological conditions that allow abusive relationships to exist and to escalate often with devasting and in some cases fatal consequences. It is, in fact, the foundation stone on which abusive relationships are built. If a someone hit you, you wouldn’t go home with them however the nature of emotional abuse is that victim does not know it’s happening to them until they are stuck under the thumb of the abuser in a surreal existence.

I was one of those who suffered this form of mental violence, and it ravaged my life. What I remember most about emotional abuse is that it felt like I was in a tumble dry cycle; – hurled around, hitting against the sides of the drum, erratically lacerated, mangled, being knocked and jolted about some more, not knowing how bloody long the cycle would continue for or where the next blow would come from. Then suddenly, intermittently, the cycle stops. I would curl up, become smaller, quieter, detach from my feelings, eliminate people and interest from my life in an attempt to slow down the drum roll, to ease the pain of the abuse. But no matter what I did, it never stopped. And with the end of the relationship, the persecution intensified. This is a common trait amongst abuser. They become even more vindictive and offensive when their victim attempts to leave or fight back. That is why this bill is so important it offers a safe place in which to take the perpetrator to task on the abuse.

The ponderous thought that remains with me is why. Why did I doggedly trust and believe him? Why did I get sucked in so deeply? Why did I fall so hard? Why did I make myself so vulnerable to him? But that’s the trick of the abuser. You don’t see or feel that your brain is being punched and battered, however, had I been physically boxed or hit I would have understood the abuse and would have run from him as fast as I could.

It was 2012, and without any legal recourse at that stage, the essence of my healing – my validation – was to write a blog about my experience. I saw my reality reflected in other women who emerged from the depths of such darkness. Seeing myself in their stories and without any legal recourse available, it allowed me to name my experience as an emotionally abused woman. Psychological violence is hard to define and hard to police, but this piece of legislation removes the ambiguity of this form of abuse and firmly recognizes it as damaging and dangerous. Identifying psychological abuse as a crime makes this is a powerful piece of legislation, in advancing women’s rights, and indeed the rights of anyone suffering from domestic violence.

Patricia Tsouros writes a blog on emotional abuse to inform and help families, and friends to understand the complexities of such a relationship, the trauma victims suffer and provide an insight to better help and support the victim.

It’s a Rap is my story of emotional abuse.

Please follow the blog for latest on book release and special launch offer.

Shattered Reflections

 

Calligraphing en l' air #6

Like billowing branches

In a thundering tempest

Swinging

Back and forth

Going nowhere

My senses numbed

I scream louder and louder

The pain ripping into

The flesh of my throat

Clasping, gasping for harmony

My screams trail off

To nowhere

I sit up and turn on the light

Questions howling at my thoughts

No gentle whispers in the raging ponderings

My hair whisked

Around my sweat-streaked face

Fear pressed in close

My lifeblood  pouring from my

Veins

Forsaken.

 

The storm ascended

Following a time of eerie stillness and foreboding gray skies.

The wind is so fierce that I don’t know if I can stay standing

My body battered from the swaying branches.

I long for a fortress

From the taunting roars

The shattered reflections

The echoed breaths of – my home

 

“There is no faithfulness, no love, no acknowledgment of pain.”

Image @Riseart

 

 

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Shades of Danger & Adventure

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“There were many shades in the danger of adventures and gales, most of which were exhilarating and golden. It is only now and then that there appears on the face of facts a sinister violence of intention- that indefinable something which forces it upon the mind and the heart. It is this complication of incidents, or these elemental furies are coming at me with a purpose of malice, with a strength beyond control, with an unbridled cruelty. And this means it tears out my hope and passion. MY pain of fatigue and longing for rest targets destruction annihilates all I can see, known, loved, enjoyed, or hated; all that is priceless and necessary- the sunshine, the memories, the future. My precious world as I knew it sweeps utterly away from my sight, further and further as each day goes by, it’s simply an appalling act of losing my life.”

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adapted  Joseph Conrad, Lord Jim 

artist: John Lijo Bluefish

Mother’s  Love

Her love is like

an island in life’s ocean,

vast and wide

A peaceful, quiet shelter

From the wind, the rain, the tide.

‘Tis bound on the north by Hope,

By Patience on the West,

By tender Love on the South

And on the East by Rest.

Above it like a beacon light

Shine Faith, and Prayer;

And thro’ the changing scenes of life

I find a haven in my mother.

Heart’s Rhythm

 

Screen Shot 2016-12-03 at 9.31.20 p.m.I could see no images only shades of light
I spread my arms out over the abyss
wanting to breathe,
my heart’s rhythm was so slow
I couldn’t find my breath
there was no need to inhale
my soul on the edge of the abyss
strands of obscure light from the heart of the earth
reached out and attached to my skin hugging me
I embraced the powerful draw of the abyss
the light fading and dying, I looked up and saw nothing

 

 

Do You See

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In this time of turmoil and despair——it’s difficult to figure out what to do and how to react in what seems to be a darkening, “widening gyre” of circumstances. But I am hoping that this challenge, as bleak as it may be, will drive me to thrive and live a complete and happy life.

“If we will be quiet and ready enough, we shall find compensation in every disappointment,” wrote Henry David Thoreau. Indeed, my compensation comes in the form of poetry and blogging, despite what dire circumstances it sprouts from, it still reaches toward solace, a place of transcendence and honesty. And I hope it inspires others going through turbulent times. Each word on a page  works the bugs out of my inner ferment.  It could do the same for you so go on give writing a chance and who knows hopefully your pages will be your consolation as well.

“Do You See” – A Poem to KBC Bank Ireland

Do you see
what you do to me
every time
my voice is discounted

A saddened world evolves
into a violent universe
tossing me ever which way
not knowing where I will land

I want to show you
what goes through my mind
as I watch my world fall apart
as I spin into orbit
my creation cast away

KBC Bank This is my Voice – Up Date

About the Author

If you would like to get in touch with me you can do so with the form below.

My Home

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If I had a serious illness, my phone would ring, my friends would call around, bring me lots of comforts and inspirational comments to help me cope and believe in my survival of the disease encompassing my body. But losing my life to deceit, my whole world falling apart, losing my home, my sanctuary, my peace of mind does not extract the same care or sympathy, or compassion. But I can tell you I am on the same pathway of suffering and pain. My home is no longer my prerogative. I did not ask for this, I did not plan for this, it came to me like a silent bullet. What makes a physical illness different to my position is that no one can openly see it.

So what is my position?

In a split moment on a Wednesday evening, I find that KBC Bank is going to the courts to take a repossession order on my home. A disclosure that rocked me to my core. Emotional Abuse ends in many ways. The mortgage payments were not being fulfilled unbeknownst to me resulting in the repossession order, and it was presented to me as a fete comply.    

The scars from mental cruelty are profound and probably more long-lasting than wounds from punches or slaps but are not seen or recognized as a broken arm, or black eye is.  Often my narration of my experiences has been denied, trivialized, or distorted. The wounds of my heart and the scars on my mind are bottomless. Now the potential of losing my home is the hardest punch of all.   My connection to my home is the first thread in my life. My home is part of my self-definition, my identity,  it defines the line between me and my surroundings, it is my shrine of peace.  It’s more than a sheltering roof and embracing walls. It is the core of my being, my soul, my lifeblood. I always have been a home bird. Travel has been a big part of my life mostly due to work and at the core of those days was knowing I would return to the soulfulness of my home.  So losing my home is not about bricks and mortar, it’s about my soul.  

There are many descriptions of the soul and here is mine.  My soul senses the force; that animates my thoughts, words, and actions. It is the wisdom that shapes this animating force into patterns of experience. In the depths of my home, my soul is still and boundless. It flows in a countless variety of emotions and thoughts that glue my mind to my body, my body to my home and my home to my life. 

Emotional Abuse is dangerous; it’s as harmful as physical abuse. It can whip your life away in one fell swoop. 

I have a You Tube Diary on the story and ongoing processes to keep my home that might give other people in similar position spirit to find a way to keep their home. 

This is my Voice  full blog.

KBC Bank Ireland This is my voice; Up date You Tube

Am I Dreaming ?


With closed eyes I feel the salty kiss of the ocean waves

I feel my heart pounding , am I only dreaming, give me your hand, tell me I am only dreaming

The storm is brewing – the waves are bashing against the weight of my body
The whole force engulfs me
I am struggling, wobbling, holding on with all my strength, no lifebuoy, no hand to hold
The salty water permeates my skin
I feel life being slowly taken away, but I am fighting hard to hold on

I’ve been lied to so much
It hurts to much
I feel  I’m going to keep falling
I can’t bear the agony
How tortured I feel
Don’t deny me the torment I am going through

I keep it inside because it’s too hard to explain

But I know that my happiness is real
When I actually feel it… so
I feel like I’m going insane
Like everything in this life I’ve lived
Is wasted
Like I’m slowly perishing
It’s too hard to explain
I just know what I know

I need the torture to end

Am I only dreaming?

Where the wind don’t blow

WHERE THE WIND DON’T BLOW

My home is a place where the wind don’t blow. My heart rests in the place where the wind don’t blow. Strange place a home, strange place where gentleness calms the wind, its a point on a bleak horizon. How can my home be this way – most priceless- yet most defenceless – most valuable -yet most valueless – most welcoming- -yet most forbidding. Tread softly – the walls breathe peace, deep, dark peace, and where the wind don’t blow.

KBC Bank This is my Voice – Up Date

Night or Day

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Is it night or day?
That’s moon or sun?
Well, anyway,
I have to run.
I see the tears.
Don’t cry, my eyes.
I feel my fears,
I feel them rise.
I have to go,
I know it now

I awaken in a dream, where my sadness does not allow the light to reform
My body is weak and pale against the birth of the day
Staring down into the deepness of abyss

A crimson sky of city follows me to reveal my diminishing soul
A life shunning out the city glow  dwells deep inside me
The guardian of my breath the pen mightier than the loneliness

How did I let it come to this?