The blackest of black
The darkest of hell
It seemed to me
I would never prevail
Smoke from his nares
Breath of his soul
Bit just another
Blood gushing hole
The stairway to heaven
Far removed
’til I tripped over the devil
And landed at his stool
Winds rushed forth
As I looked to the sky
A shimmering hope
I’m not gonna die.
I will be making this post everyday for the rest of the month as April is No more to sexual assault month. Please feel free to reblog, retweet, FB or all three.
There is only one way to break the silence and bring this ever growing nightmare to the forefront of the minds of others and that is to SPEAK out in the capacity that we can.
Say No More
Versatile Blog
I was nominated a while back by belsbror for the Versatile Blogger Award as well as the Very Inspiring Award. If you have never read his blog you should go check him out. His blog is awesome.
I am very honored and at a loss for words. I want to thank those who read my blog and I pray that the words I share will in some way help others to be aware of the damaging effects of Domestic Violence and most of all I hope they help others to see they are not alone. They have a voice and are free to share it. I will listen. I promise.
My nominees for both awards are:
http://sweetmarie9619.wordpress.com/
http://wonderfulshantelle.wordpress.com/
http://soulhealingart.wordpress.com/
Very Inspiring Award
I am honored to receive such an award. I spent 19 years without peace or justice and had come to believe no such thing existed for me at least.
I know now that there are times that if you want peace you have to make it so and if you want justice it’s a roll of the dice more times than not.
I started my blog to give voice to all the injustice victims of domestic violence suffer in hopes of helping to create peace.
My one and only desire today is to live in peace or at least a greater sense of peace than I’ve had in many years. Justice continues to hand in the balance and I have to believe justice will weigh out in our favor every day.
So many continue to battle the justice system for the protection, acknowledgment, and the rights we were all born with. It is our responsibility to help push that along. Without our voices, all is lost. Thankfully, there is a plethora of voices right here at WordPress who can out holler the loudest of neigh sayers and I am happy to be a part of that number.
Anyone who would like to join the fight against domestic/sexual violence can join the NCADV free as well as nomore.org.
Thank you Americana for nominating me for this award. You are a jewel and I mean that.
My Nominations Are:
Working as an Assistant Director Nursing is a hell of a job with a hell of a lot of responsibility. Most times I worked anywhere from 40-60 hours a week. Many days my phone would be ringing as I walked in the door and of course it was work and they needed me to return for some emergency. My children would moan, *Jon* would cuss like a sailor while I did an about face never having put down my purse, and head out the door to return to the facility. There was many times I had to return to work after arriving home and Jon had to stay with the kids.
I never got through a day without Jon calling at least every hour asking questions. “Who’ve you been flirtin’ with? Who’s been flirtin’ with you?” Moreover, a lot of others I don’t remember, or care to remember. Jon took me to work and picked me up every day. That insured him I was actually going to work and coming home immediately thereafter.
I never took my cell to work as I knew what it would be like if I had to stop what I was doing every hour to answer his call. So on this particular day I’d not called him to come pick me up and it was around 5:30. I called to let him know I’d be working later than usual and would call when I was ready. At the facility I worked in, if the phones rang after 6:00 the call would roll over to an answering service.
Generally, everything that could go wrong did go wrong and the night wrought with code blues, hospital transfers and anything else one could think of. Bone tired, I looked at my watch and realized it was 3:00 am. I hadn’t called Jon, but he knew where I was so I wasn’t very worried.
Once I’d gotten the mountain of paperwork down to a molehill, I decided I couldn’t make it another step and called Jon at 8:00 am to pick me up. No answer. I called again. No answer. I called at least ten times. No answer.
There I sat in my office with no way home after working 25 hours strait. I was terrified of what would be waiting for me at home. I was sure Jon was livid and there would be hell to pay.
Thankfully, one of my co-workers agreed to take me home as I white knuckled the armrest the whole way home. When we arrived, I took a deep breath and exited the car. I was so exhausted it would seem I crawled up to the front door.
Fortunately, I had my keys and walked through the door and there Jon sat in his recliner with that go to hell look on his face.
“Where the fuck have you been? I called that goddam place all night and there was nothin’ but a fuckin’ answering machine. (He knew about the phone roll over and that I couldn’t receive any calls after 6) Who you been fuckin'”?
I was so exhausted I didn’t bother to answer, I rolled my eyes and asked why the fuck he didn’t answer the phone to pick me up and headed to the bedroom to sleep. However, he would have none of that. I was in for a morning of hell and I knew it. Especially since, I ‘mouthed’ off at him.
He threw me into the chair and began choking me and screaming expletives. I could see out of the corner of my eye that my son was at home and I eked out “call the police”, but he sat there frozen in fear, and that was enough for Jon to release his grasp and leave the room.
Once I’d fallen asleep he came into the room, banging, slamming dresser drawers, yelling about something or another and anything else he could think of to keep me from rest.
One week later I lost my job.
It was eight more years before I finally left Jon.
My heart aches daily for my children and the things they witnessed. I can never wipe that from their memory. I can only hope they can one day forgive me.
Teela Hart 