09 June, 2009

The Deaf Screams of Domestic Violence

Today I stumbled upon the most beautiful soul enriching lives through this most beautifully inspiring blog...entry from below...

Jump...The Open Letter

Open Letters are written for the sole purpose of purging whatever you’ve held inside, out to the recipient of the letter. This is my second…the first was written to my daughter. The subject matter might be considered ‘raw’ for some of my readers.

Deaf was always a form of death to me, living with silence is not much different than dying is it, not alike being buried alive? - Indigo Ravenwood in answer to her therapist on the reason for wanting to end her life…


Dear Me,

It’s been four years. I still don’t understand the reasoning I survived and came to be here. I’ve often wondered if you knew what I know now, would it have changed events. Honestly, I don’t think it would have made a difference; you were so angry with the world at large. You didn’t know how to live in a world of sane normals – how were you suppose to live with the silence? Tired, defeated when it came to trying to fit in and belong; lacking the ability to know how to live without a fist crashing into you - wasn’t any different than being a prisoner to addiction. No one could understand growing up abused physically/mentally it was normal to expect that from someone who claimed to love you, maybe even on some level to want it. Insane was breaking the cycle, feeling like a child learning to walk all over again.

All those years of biting your tongue, hiding bruises and broken bones, holding the screams deep in the belly of your psyche…Did you really think they would stay buried forever? That no-one would ever discover the truth? You couldn’t drown yourself fast enough, drink enough, and stay angry enough to hold that beast at bay. Eventually the truth will out itself, one way or another…Despite all that, you were learning however slowly. Then came the endless silence - trapped within your own mind with those screams, those memories that wouldn’t stop haunting you. I always wondered why nothing else brought you to that edge; your deafness did. I get it now…the fear of being buried with those screams, believing no one would ever hear you ever again was enough to push you over that edge...you jumped. Living was more frightening than dying.

Four years later finding yourself on the other side of the fear, was it worth failing to take your own life? If you ever have doubts get on your knees, eye to eye with that pup that looks at you as if your the reason the sun rises and sets. In four years you’ve become an advocate against Domestic Violence and made sure despite what you originally thought – you HAD a voice. By now you have lost count on how many animals you have rescued, the pup who is your working dog for the deaf is one of them. These days you’ve taken that rebellious nature and made it work for you, detailing your life of silence for the world at large. More people are aware of the inside of a deaf person’s perspective than ever before – because deaf was never meant to be silent.

You are worthy of life my dear sweet friend (tears falling). There are still days of rage and fear for the hand you have been dealt, but you have to believe on some level it was/is all worth it in the end. The screams are not so quiet these days, everyone can hear them and you’re not alone. Never alone…Life may never totally have its sane normals – how could it, you’re still deaf. Just remember the silence quieted the noise so you could hear the drum beat of your spirit, let your soul take flight and hear with your eyes. You can do this, one step at a time on the other side of the fear…

*This was written to remind me not so long ago I did something above and beyond stupid. I jumped off the edge of reasoning, thankfully I didn’t succeed (I’m still leery having bottles of medication around). In any event it made me realize how fallible we are when fear takes control of our lives. I fought an entire lifetime hoping for some miracle to keep me from going deaf, add in delayed PTSD trauma and it was almost the final nail in my coffin. I don’t often talk about suicide…on some level it’s a bit of embarrassment, not exactly one of my prouder moments. Today that changed because at the end of the day we are all vulnerable and human. This is one more story of survival. I survived to witness the defeat of such a choice; to realize and remind others you can’t possibly know how life will turn out – if you don’t attempt to live it on the other side of whatever you fear. I hope in some way I’m living proof – for someone who believes/believed they were worthless in the end proved to be worth…more than they ever knew.

Suicide Hotline 1-800-273-TALK (8255)


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