In the glow of Christmas lights so bright
My grandparents came, hearts full of delight
But I, with a secret hidden deep
Made excuses, chose not to meet
Ghosting them, avoiding their gaze
In the shadows, lost in a dark haze
A black eye concealed from their view
A painful truth, known to few
Trusted not to show, to keep it in
For fear of more hits, a cycle of sin
Instead of solace, a mother’s embrace
I faced accusations, a cruel disgrace
Off my meds, mentally ill, she claimed
A narrative twisted, my truth maimed
The bruises hidden, the pain inside
A wounded soul, a heart denied
In the silence of that Christmas night
I stood alone, consumed by fright
Betrayed by those meant to protect
Invisible scars, a deep neglect
An untold story, a heavy toll
A shattered spirit, a broken soul
May the light of truth one day shine
To heal the wounds, to redefine
This poem says it all. My grandparents stayed with my mother, and I lived with my ex-fiancé. My son’s father had physical placement but lived with my mother. My mother told them I can’t get my shit together, that I’m not taking my meds, lying, and crazy. I told her on multiple occasions what was going on in my home, but she didn’t believe me. Likely because I “lied” to the police about her abusing me… Any who, my ex-fiancé had beat me badly two nights before my grandparents were in town. I was instructed not to let anyone see or the next beating, “might be the last.” I did end up getting close to my grandparents, but I met them outside, away from the lights. They couldn’t see the bruises on my eye.
Domestic violence is no joke. People are quick to judge us, without knowing the intimate details of what’s really going on behind closed doors. The misery, the pain, and most victims don’t tell anyone. I told my mother, and she did nothing other than berate me, and realized she could use this as a reason to keep her sympathy and pity and keep her claims up that I’m lying and off my meds, and to likely finally have my son; the son she always wanted. Imagine reaching out for help, having nowhere to turn, calling the domestic violence shelter every day or 3 months in your area because it was full, trying to do that in secret without him knowing, and your name never coming up. You then ask your mother one last time to come home and to be safe and she says no. That’s when I completely lost my mind and did whatever was necessary to get out of my situation, after attempting to take my life, of course. The system has failed me on so many levels. A person can only take so much before they turn legally insane. However, the things I did, both illegal and out of the ordinary, were for me to get away, to be safe, to have the money necessary to survive away from him, and to sleep in a hotel bed instead of the backseat of my car. My grandparents know different now, but the things I had to go through while the people closest to me were afraid of me due to my mother and not knowing the situation or believing it, are things no one, and I mean NO ONE should ever have to go through. There will be more posts about domestic violence, eventually.
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