When is the truth not the truth?

Its been interesting to read what information is out there regarding domestic abuse from official websites.

The department of community services in NSW Australia have nothing…not a thing to help men who may be going through an abusive time. On the NSW Police force’s website on its section about domestic abuse it begins with saying that men are more often the perpeptuators of voilence in a relationship…this is for the most part correct when it comes to physical battering, though women are mostly guilty of slapping, throwing items and biting.

It then goes to say that emotional and vervbal abuse are the most common forms of abuse and its results are often more devastating then other forms….which means the information offered by the NSW Police Force is wrong because research shows that it is women who are the greater offender of emotional and verbal abuse.

A survey research paper done by the department of Health by the Canadian Government says that in hetrosexual relationships 8% of women will face domestic abuse and 7% of men will suffer from abuse..

In England and the United States research is saying that 40% of all domestic abuse victims are men…and that figure most likely is under reported as men tend to suffer a greater deal of shame and embarressment to report it. As someone who has been involved in suicide prevention and awareness, I would like to be able to find out the number of men who have taken their lives because of continual abuse?

If so then the information that’s given by the government and accepted as truth by  society is wrong, for if  someone takes their life because of abuse then those people are victims of abuse…m

There are no indications to say that the research done in Canada, America and England would have any different social markers for society in Australia and indeed most of the research that is publicised and used in Australia references selected papers used in those other countries. Whether we use the Canadian percentages or the stats from America and England the truth is that there isn’t such a big difference between who is a victim of abuse.

I stand against abuse of any kind… I am against abuse of any kind against men and children and I am against abuse of any kind against women.

In the fight to stop it, lets stop with the lies that is fed to society and admit it is more then just a gender issue.

Words that cut deep.

Inside I’m dying, wanting to do what is right. Knowing that no matter what I do it won’t be enough. It’s never enough. My body has failed me and my mind is confused. Sickness has ravaged my being, causing me to be unable to do what I once took for granted.

Recovery is slow, my steps are short. I tire ever so easily. Yet the little I do is never enough. Your words cut to the bone. They are sharper and more destructive then the needle used for the lumber punctures that I had to endure. They cause me to weaken more then what the virus did in causing my paralysis.

The words you spoke were worse than the hits to my head. They were worse than the bite to my wrist. They were worse than the personal items you destroyed. Words destroying the little identity I had left of whom I was. They were like machine gun bullets destroying my flesh. The flesh of my inner man. The flesh of my mind, the flesh of my heart.

No matter what I do, I know its not enough. It’s never enough. No matter how hard I try, my body fails me. My memory is shattered and the virus gave me partial amensia. Yet I know deep inside me I have forgotten something. What is it I fear? I know that soon I will find out. Too soon I will find out. If I could only forget the words that you say. They are so sharp and so barbed that they dig deeper into my flesh.

Your words telling me a real man would be out working, while I went shopping in a wheel chair, denying me money to buy Christmas presents. Your words telling me that you hold me in contempt, because I should be out working instead of spending 2 months in hospital. Words that cut deep. It would take me three days to mow the lawn…yet it was never enough. Who was I to want to try to write a book was often your catch cry. Who do you think you are was your often enough snarl? A question that I couldn’t answer; for I couldn’t answer who was I.

Your words cut me deep, a pain ever so sharp. Those words that I feared more than your bite. Your words caused more pain than the friendships you destroyed. A pain that was so deep, I didn’t know how to survive. Depression set in, your’e mental you cried. The words cutting deeper, causing deep destruction inside.

Let’s pray I suggested; “But not with you” you would cry, “a more cursed man I have never laid eyes.” God has turned His back on you, your prayers He will ignore, oh by the way Hell is your reward.  Oh your words they cut deep, ever so deep. Confusion and pain continues to build on more pain.

You belittled my hopes and spat on my dreams. I had gone numb and at times dared not to breathe. I struggled enough with what the encephalitis had done, but it was a walk in the park compared to what you had done. Out of my home I was forced, with no where to go. So into my van I had to go. For nearly six weeks I slept in the back of my van, for their was no where else for me to go.

My mobility was limited, finances tight. My disability compounded because of the fright. Your words cut me deep, there was no escape. The memory of them would hound me during the night. Daytime would come, and I would stagger out into the light. But no matter what happened it wasn’t enough. $420 a fortnight was all I had to live on….50% you cried was your due. Your words cut me deep, ever so deep.

No matter what I did it was never enough, my own well being you couldn’t give a stuff. Oh those words, they cut me so deep. They would continue to trouble me in my sleep.

How sweet it would have been to have a friend at hand, but your words caused them all to turn against me. I was at fault for leaving the home. What a bastard they said, how could he do this to you, despising me more and shutting the door. My church blackbanned me, no more contact from them, causing more pain to continue its destruction within.

Those words cut deep, destroying within…a shell of a man of whom I had been. How sweet it was to hear the voice of a friend. Now those times are past, over a year has gone by and now there are new friends, a new church, a new hope. A new wife to be….oh such hope. The disability is still there, recovery is slow….though my balance has improved and my walk isn’t so slow. My memory still fails me and tiredness sets in.

But with new words of hope and joy setting in I’m slowly able to shed the words of the past into the bin.