Shame: Make Mine a Double

     We're listening to "The Body Keeps the Score". When he was talking about what survivors deal with, what we put up with, and the shame surrounding it all, my husband asked me if I think that's why I reconciled with him.

     I don't know. Sometimes I think it's something worse. That I just couldn't stand the thought of him giving someone else the love he refused to give me for so long.

     And shame? Yeah. For getting into this to begin with. How did I not see that this was abuse?

     For reconciling? Yes there's shame. Honestly though, my daughters have made it worse. They have shamed me and shunned me. 

     One thing that isn't discussed enough is the effects it has on your children to see you mistreated. 

     The disrespect they show me. The accusations of dishonesty are especially hurtful. I grew up with a mother who lied and lied and lied. I swore I wouldn't do that to my kids and it's a vow I kept. 

     And you know what? I'm goddamned proud of myself for that.

     My oldest saw how my husband treated me and she took issue ... not with him. With me. Because in response to a particularly awful thing he did, I keyed his car. 

     That was done in the moment, when I felt powerless. Because when you're with an abuser, you do not have power. And sometimes the victims lash out.

     It's not something I'm proud of. And that's the thing about reactive abuse: Besides the fact that it's not abuse, it's also something that the victim doing it feels shameful about.

     So do I feel shame? Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, you have no idea.