Monday, August 31, 2009

The 'so-called' "helpful" shelters

Photo: Runaway By Rockyhorror

So, in Seattle. I had only one family member in Washington state, and no car to get to her. I had no friends, Carradin saw to that. And so my only option was to go to an emergancy shelter, designed to help women who were in a domestic violence situation.


Leaving Carradin, I was totally broken up. Confused, baffled, and unsure. Leaving everything that I knew, once again. So this was a scary move on my part. I didn't know where I was going, but I have seen other shelters, and how scary they are. In other shelters I would see, a lot of street women, who have more problems than just being broke and homeless. People you would be afraid to sleep in the same building with, let alone on an open floor with your back to them. But, luckily, the confidential place that I was taken to wasn't like that.
They prescanned tenants. So, the tenants seemly were not scary. You had a room, that you did have to share with up to 4 other random people. And the assistance of trained individuals with helping you get on your feet.
I will be honest... I wasn't sure if my situation was horrible enough for me to leave. Now isn't that baazar. Carradin had me by the neck, using my neck as a handle grip, as he shoved me around the room, into furniture, onto the floor, on top of the cat post (luckily it was a cardboard cat post, and not a traditional one, or else my back would be broken).

But because I had no bruises, I felt that I didn't belong there.

The women that I saw at this shelter, were broken and bruised. Many had casts, or horrific scars and stitches on their faces and bodies. 99% of them came, huddled with their children. So I questioned, whom am I to be there? A woman with out scars, bruises, broken bones, or children.

I asked this, when I spoke to my case worker. And she merely said (or they, I had a few... who were AWESOME people), that true I came out practically unscathed. But that I shouldn't look at it like I didn't belong there, but that I was 'lucky'.

So, for the next 56 days of my stay there. I began to be taught about a side of the world I only dreamed unbelievable. (And considering that I am a victium of rape and abduction, from my teenage years. For me to still have much more to be awakened to has to say a lot)

I learned a lot, about what happens mentally to victiums of domestic abuse. Most, not all, once they leave their previous abusive environment, end up mimicking their former abuser, in their behaviour. Also, the connection to basic mental functions is dimmed (temporarily).


For example: A woman that would usually be very clean, would become VERY unhygenic. Not bathing, cleaning her surroundings, or her children, or anything. Leaving the stove on, or not responding to hearing their child crying in a normal way. I saw kids, get locked into rooms, screaming to get out. I saw women, look so filthly that a bum on the street, looked cleaner.

Behaviours like bullying other individuals. Telling them what to do, what to eat, what to dress. Harrassing the weaker tenants, etc. Basically, very primitive behaviour.

I, being very much not like many of the women there, was usually the every day target. Groups would gang up, and start false lies about me, to get me in trouble. Or go through my stuff. Or try to get me kicked out, etc etc.

So for me. Most of my stay there, because of all of that, would consist of me going out for very long walks, all the way up to curfew, even after a long day at work. Trying to keep my mind at ease.
The next faze of my survivor mode.


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