The Laws Need to Be Changed -A Call for the Meek to Inherit the Earth

It is hard enough to try to recover your own emotional losses when it seems that the deck is stacked against you…
Hey guys…it’s me and I am damned angry, more so than I have been in more than twenty years. This evening when I sat here, nearly in tears over the struggle that I am faced with at this time, and as I sat here researching the laws created for the victims and survivors of Domestic Violence and Emotional Abuse, I found that there are a whole lot of laws on the books which protect us but the laws only protect us when our attackers are actively in the act of abusing us. And by abusing, I do not mean in all of the ways which the results of said abuses are tangible because they can be felt, and seen…
I have been attending domestic violence therapy sessions and because of this I find that I am privy to the way other victims and survivors have been and have to deal with the monster that has entered into our varied private lives, and the monster is not only our attackers but the laws which were meant to protect us that are also laws that are terribly inadequate. In my mind this simply means that domestic violence is STILL not as big of a deal as it should be, and in 1997 there was a study published within the University of California System School of Law that tells us that more times than not a woman will be murdered by an abusive spouse, namely one who has hit her in the past and who she has recently filed charges against. This is a travesty and one that must no longer be!
WE have to stand up for ourselves, not only toward others who are not familiar with the horrors that all abuse victims face on a daily basis, but also for those who stand in power and make laws that are meant to protect us but are not really very much more than the same legal protections which are afforded our abusers, laws which are simply dressed up to sound different than ones which exist for us all. And in the case of emotional abuse, no one is concerned about the nature of the soul of an abuse survivor. Society does not see being bullied by your spouse or significant other as abuse. It is amazing to me that adults who certain people on the planet refer to as being their “Grandparents” still believe that chanting “Sticks and Stones may Break my Bone but names will never hurt me…” over and over again, that telling children that words cannot hurt them is a lie. There is no one on the planet who does not know personally how bad iy hurts when someone we love lies to us, no one who does not know what it is like to hear that they are not worth anything to someone else, but the difference between the normal person who is not being abused and the no-longer-able-to-recall-normal-for-the-moment person who IS being abused is that the normal person gets an apology, is granted back their dignity and their self-respect.
The abused person just gets more insults hurled at them, more threats which are veiled, gets called more ugly names, and then there comes a time when it is very truly and absolutely a matter of do or die. I hate to see it here in writing, but there was a time when I thought that perhaps not waking up again would be far better than this, and thakfully I can read it and not blink and eye, not worry that I will have that thought again, because I have not had it again.
I know my value. I know my worth. I know Love. I know Family. I know, too, that I have all of these things and that these things in me were never someone else’s to control, and when one person found out that I did not want to be controlled, he ramped up the words, the insults, all of it, reducing me, at one time in my life a very short time ago, to a shaking, aching rubble of tears. My emotional situation had finally manifested itself physically, and I lived for a few weeks with pain in my joints, my bones from time to time, and sometimes my muscles, too. It took me a week to cry out that pain, a week to feel what I had repressed and supressed for so long, that one day, I just found that I could no longer deal with the pain that resided in my soul. It was a pain that my soul badly needed to purge itself of. It took me a long time to get to this point, where I can sit here, thinking about what I have been through and how far I have come with little help and little money.
Yet I am here, and I am alive, and I am glad to see the day each day and grateful for my senses. Joyful to hear the voice of my soul twin, anxious for the thing that will happen “next,” excited at the idea that this time, Love is very different…it is friendly and playful…ellusive and grand…mysterious and oh so bittersweet, but I feel it, deep and has become the salve to the wounds on the very bones of my very weary soul…I can still be enthrallled by the music pouring from a speaker, still be joyful in knowing that I have come this far, grown this much, Am Who I Have Always Been…very much a child of the cosmos…very much cradled and cushioned in the grandness that is the Hand of God…if there is anything that I know for real, for sure, it is that I Am Well Loved…I know that I should never have been put through what it is that I have gone through, and I know, too, that I went through it so that I could sit here at this keyboard and let at least just one person know that if you bother to see the changes in yourself for the things that you see in someone else, take the chance to learn what you can from them, because in their loathing there is a lesson that is about Love and it is singular and unique for each of us, even as the intensity is the same. Of all the lessons that I learned, the hardest one that I had to learn was to be able to say “I Love You,” and mean it in exactly the way you think that I mean it, because you are probably right. And again…you know that if I tell you that I Love You that I mean it….I mean it…for real…
And when I say that I Love You All, I mean that, too, because there are a lot of us who share this same sad commonality. I referred to us at one time as being “a sad sisterhood,” but after these last few months in particular, I find that we are not sad – we are angry, like so many Goddesses whose powers have been shunned by the Gods. Yet we are no longer silent, and we do not need to be…never needed to be. And some small part of you has to believe that the longer you stayed, the more you learned, and the more you learned, the stronger you got, the smarter you got…and most of all, you became a real person in your own life.
You got sick of the bullshit. You got tired of not having a voice. You wanted to develop a backbone instead of tumors, so you chose to march forward, by yourself, and now, you know, too, never, ever alone. I can no longer refer to us as being a sad sisterhood, because we are an army od warrior women, of ‘Ikaika Wahine, of those who have braved the cold, cold space of emptiness, the empty and cracked shell of the person you became. You can come back…you can heal…it is not easy, but you can do it. I am doing it and if I can do it anyone can do it. I didn’t used to like me, but as I kept on this Path…the Warrior Woman’s Path…I found out a whole lot about Me, and the most important thing that I found out is that I Love Me, and I Love Me because I Am Loved, in every possible way that I can be, and that yes, one day I woke up and was New, began to feel like I was stronger, like I could accomplish any damned thing I wanted to, and in order to accomplish it all, the only thing I had to do at any time in the past was to try. Well, I tried…tried to mend my marriage and ended up tore up from it, injured in the soul, where it counted, to the point where I have no way else out of this emotional turmoil than to follow my heart, my soul, be guided by the Inner Voice that is God and know that truly, I will survive…
The way that the laws are written now it seems that we have protections under federal and state law, but are still faced with the fact that the very same laws which govern “protective measures” in regards to those of us who have learned the darker side of Love – these are the very same laws which protect our abusers because these are the laws which are afforded every single one of us.
We have to rise up against the machine which protects those who would trample on the soul of a woman until she is barely recognizable as much more than the mere shell of a human body which has become void of a human soul. We must act together to bring about the changes which will not only benefit the abused, but also those who are dependent upon us – our children, because in the fracas that is the legal maze of rights and penal codes and what have you, not only our women are at risk, but more, the safety and the security of our children are also at risk of being lost to and in a system which has become more corrupt than we want to believe that it is.
When it comes to matters of the heart, the soul, the family, it is the mothers of society who are more vulnerable to the slings and arrows of life, and to the abuses not only by our attacker, regardless if they are hitting us, demeaning us with their words…regardless of anything that any adult might believe and think is in the best interest of everyone involved, more must be done in regards to better protection for those who govenrment entities are put into place for the sole purpose of protecting the innocent, protecting the vulnerable, and more, ensuring that no attacker can even come close to harming their victims again and again, because that is the true nature of Abuse.
Having been the victim of both domestic violence, and, too, of Emotional Abuse, I know that there is more that can be done to solve this dilema, not of just my own personal and ongoing saga, but that of millions of women and children throughout the country. WE have to stand up and let our voices be heard ! We need to relearn a new way, a friendly way, not only for dealing with our attackers, but also with educating the masses about the truth of domestic violence victims and survivors. The truth is that no matter how much counseling you get, you will always, for the rest of your life, be a statistic, even though that is the last thing that any one of us thinks about. Being a statistic is not as bad as being a dead woman, but that is how the laws are set up – to ensure that the person who took away your rights without thought, without blinking a damned eye, NEVER loses their rights, and this is very wrong and very …abusive…toward those of us who have led our lives thus far as good people for as long as we could.
Being a survivor of domestic violence and a soon-to-be survivor of emotional abuse, and based on what I researched, what i know from having worked for a nonprofit who was one of the sole funding agencies for another nonprofit, I know that these people and agencies are doing what they can, but sadly, We, the People, are not, and we have the power to change things in society. We have the power to make a difference. We might think that we alone can do nothing, but nothing could be further from the truth. Our combined efforts can make a huge difference, and maybe if, instead of our getting our combined voices heard, we can create something together because through creating something together, together we can make changes, through our voices, through our creative action, not in protest, but in unity.
We have protested so much for so very long now that the only thing we have learned to do is fight. All we have done is fight, and the worst part is not only that we are fighting for what is rightfully ours, but also for what is our own by birth – our freedom to live happily, with joy and with the comfort of knowing that what we went through was not ever gone through in vain. We have learned the ultimate lesson in Love and in Loving, and we have lost many, many good women throughout our country, our states, our counties, our cities, our communities, our neighborhoods, and yes, our own houses, to the scourge that is abuse of any kind. We have fought for so very long, that perhaps it is time that we got together in Unity…practicing the art of Lokahi…of One-ness…and rather than create a fracas, create a Stir…
Stir it up, Baby…
Yes, that is the title of a song by the rock band…my favorite rock band…Tesla. Now, if you are reading this and know me personally, then you know, too, that I do things in grand fashion. The work that I love to do is for Dempsey’s Pub in Helendale, but right now, this is something that I want to do, my own charitable effort that I created for us all, and it is something that we can totally all take part in…it will cost you nothing but postage and a pair of sunglasses purchased at the 99cent only store, or the Dollar Tree, or perhaps, if you are like me, you own a whole lot of pairs of sunglasses because for years and years you wore them but not for any other reason than to hide the black eyes…
Tonight while I sat here praying and trying to focus, I heard the word “sunglasses,” and then I opened my eyes, and there in front of me were my own sunglasses, a brand new pair that were bought in honor of those who have survived breast cancer. I picked them up and looked at them and then put them on. Staring at the screen when it went to the screensaver I could see my reflection and staring back at me was me with these big sunglasses on and I thought it was funny – both peculiarly and humorously, because of the thing that has invaded my life and the thing that I am learning much from, namely just how creatively I can live my life and share my life with those who I Love the Most, and those who I share that Warrior’s Commonality with. It made me smile because all week I have been in a blue mood.
I have asked in the past for help with something, but this time I really want your help on something that we can all take part in…
The Sunglasses Project…
I am not sure why I want to call it this, because it is not very creative at all, but still, I want your help with this.
I would like to get the call out to the masses about collecting a pair of sunglasses from people who have been through or who have known someone close to them who has been the victim of Domestic Violence. I would like to gather as many pairs of sunglasses as I can, and I would like to use those sunglasses as being representative of one woman who is, who has been, who knows someone close to them who has been the victim, not only of the violence, but also of the disregard of a society which still does not regard a woman as being an important part of society as a whole. Maybe if we could collect masses of sunglasses to represent our mothers, our sisters, our daughters, our nieces, our aunties, our grandmothers, our friends….maybe if we collected them and spread them out somewhere and get peoples’ attention…maybe we could finally get the attention that we need and shine some light on a problem that is getting worse and worse.
Maybe if we got together and with a silent yet united show of support for each other, maybe we would exact that change together…
If You would like to be part of The Sunglasses Project, please send an email to twistedkittyrocks@yahoo.com, and you will receive an address to send the sunglasses to in reply.
If you would like to volunteer a P.O. Box to this effort, please also send an email to twistedkittyrocks@yahoo.com with the word “PO Box” in the subject line.
I Look Very Forward to Being Part of this Combined Effort For Change Through Love WIth You All !!
As Always…I Love You All ~
…Rox…
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About ReverendRoxie22

Visit my website! www.reverendroxie22.wix.com/losangeleskahuna View all posts by ReverendRoxie22

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