The following is a topic most men often keep to themselves due to the gender roles that society assigns to men and women.

I know most of you are probably wondering what is going on considering my blog posting is almost nil. One might assume I am suffering from writers block. The simple answer is, No. The truth is, I am had been in a transition that had me feeling not very stable or grounded. When I feel this way I get anxious and tend to retreat inside myself.

Part of the problem is that my mind tends to run at full throttle filled with ideas; however, I tend to get frustrated because I don’t know what to do with them – who to share them with or where to begin. The other part is more complex and rooted in some irrational fears I have been trying to work through since Hurricane Ike. Like a bad computer virus, some old demons have suddenly crept back in and have stirred some old feelings I thought I had resolved; only to find out they were waiting for the right moment to show itself.

So, I have felt listless, tired and even a sense of hopelessness – searching for that mere flicker of light in a long dark and narrow tunnel. I have thought about blogging about me, myself and my obstacles. However, in the end, I deleted them and continue to hide behind this blog. I guess you can only hide for so long and the only time one gets a chance to better oneself is if we are forced to deal with them. Now is the time.

I think the challenges of the times we now live in bring some very emotionally charged questions. There seems to be more doubts about the future, about stability and about purpose; more now than any other time. Some of you may have noticed a couple of my blogs dealt with relationship issues. I guess subconsciously, I felt it was time to deal these issues because I feel like it is time to stop this demon from winning.

To be honest, the reason I am single, I consciously made the choice do so. I had convinced myself it was easier to be alone. However, ever since I began blogging, I’ve re-discovered how much fun it is to get out and interact with people. The French poet Isidore Ducasse once penned, “Sleep is a reward for some, a punishment for others.” For me, this certainly is true. Recently, my old demons have been creeping up at night, reminding me of HER, my ex-wife, and the seeds of doubt she planted.

Yes, I was briefly married eight years ago. Like most men, I too have decided to keep this as a secret until now. When it comes to domestic abuse, we often think of women as the victims and men as the aggressors. But that is not true. It is just that most men do not report or even talk about the abuse they endure.

When I got married, the relationship was not only destructive from the start, but for the wrong reason too. During that time of my life, I was plagued with unresolved issues; as a result, I had a fear of being alone. My ex came from a very small Texas town and making the transition to Houston, was really hard. It did not help that she came from an abusive family, where she was not only the victim of physical and emotional abuse at the hands of her mother, but she also had a series of bad relationships. In retrospect, these are the red flags I should have picked up on. The chances of her continuing this type of behavior was great, and it would be very difficult to break. By the time I came around, I was her “escape” and she was mine.

It was not long into our marriage that her emotional state began to unravel. It began right after I had a near-death car accident on my way to pick her up at her parent’s house, she suddenly started to have an irrational fear that I would leave her. It got so bad; I wasn’t allowed to leave the house. At first, she sought counseling, but after a couple of sessions she refused to go because she didn’t think she was acting irrational. Once her insecurities took hold on her, one night, she woke up in a medicated stupor and decided to wake me up to tell me she was going to kill herself. It is important to realize at this time I was battling mine an own issue. After the car accident, I was suffering from PTSD and I was forced to take a medical leave of absence. That night, I called her parents to let them know of the situation, which later I would come to regret doing this because I will never forget what her mother told me. She had told me that it was my fault her daughter became suicidal.

The next morning, my ex-wife acted as if nothing happened that night. Then a funny thing occurred, the power company accidentally cut the power. (No, it was not Amigo Energy.) She suddenly blew up and accused me of failing to pay the bill. Once the power company admitted their mistake, we mutually agreed it was better if we separated. Like any abusive relationship, she asked if I would forgive her and take her back; going against my family’s wishes, I did. This decision would be costly; the relationship between me and my family became strained, to the point we mutually semi-disowned each other.

My battle with PTSD also took a major toll in my life and career. Right after my medical leave of absence; I was never the same, I was suffering from memory loss and cognitive problems. I had problems thinking straight, paying attention and remembering. It always felt like I was in a “fog.” The job I had with the county, required to me to think critically and to be honest, I excelled at my job. I was on the fast track and one of the departments most valued employees. All of this was gone in a flash, I had to bite the bitter pill and walk for the job I loved. Since I was not fully vested with the county, the state retirement plan required that I either withdraw all my retirement funds or roll it over. This was a no-brainier, considering we were in a recession and the bills still needed to be paid, I with withdrew the money.

Once the bills started piling up, the honeymoon period ended and my nightmare began. I was constantly blamed for everything and anything that went wrong. Those who are victims of abuse will always be able to remember exactly where and what they were doing when their personal hell began – the moment their abuser reached their “tipping point.” We started discussing that were becoming financially strapped because she could control her carefree spending habits. As long as she was the only one working at the time, we did not have the luxury of buy things we could do without. We reached a point where we did not have enough money to pay all our bills. There were times it felt, we were on the verge of becoming homeless because the retirement money I withdrew, which would have covered our bills for several months, was nearly depleted on things we could have done without.

At the height of our disagreement, she snapped and became physically abusive. I could see the rage in her eyes as she started to whatever she could pick up me. Once I was backed up to the wall, she unleashed her fists of fury on me. Lucky for me, before meting her, I had enrolled in a self defense class. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would be using what I learned to defend myself. Hell, even when I was in a tournament, I was bad it. But that night, at that moment, every thing clicked. If it wasn’t for those classes, I really think the abuse could have been a lot worse if I were not able to deflect those punches.

Once the beating slowed, my natural reaction was to raise my hand and defend myself, to my surprised; she actually was egging me on. She knew the system well; as she egged me on, she joyfully told me she would call the police on me without a second thought. She knew once she called, the police would take her word over mine and only thing that would be on the books is that I threatened her. Unfortunately she is correct, more often than not; the police will take the word of a female over male. Isolated from my family and damned if I defended myself, it became clear to me, I was now at her mercy. The physical abuse did not occur as much after that day, unlike the litany of verbal attacks she hurled at me, which took a serious toll on my psyche -draining me of life, dreams, and hope. In her eyes, I became less than a man. Of all the verbal attacks, the one that affected me the most was my ability to be self reliant and independent when she told me I would never be live on my own because I always rely on mommy and daddy.

Often times we are able to see somebody else’s misfortune except our own; and if we do, we tend to downplay it by denying that the situation is as bad as other people see it. Sadly, this line of thinking will only bring more pain. My saving grace that allowed me to see the light was the education I received in graduate school. Once I was able to realize it was not my fault and there was no shame walking away from an abusive marriage, I was able to muster up enough courage to do it. However, it has taken me years to break down the damage she had done to me psyche and re-build my self-esteem.

With the help of counseling, I have come to realize that once we remove our blinders and see we are lovable, things change for the better and we can start seeing things differently and feel confident about OURSELVES. The truth is, people DO love US, but WE are often blind to it because we tend to equate love only romantic love. This is not true; LOVE can come from people close to us – our children, our parents, and our friends. It may not be romantic love, but it is LOVE.

However, there is still one more demon I have yet to fully slay. My issues around money and unemployment have provided a backdoor to for this nasty little demon back into my life. Feeling inadequate, not earning my own living, seeing a future that I don’t really like and knowing that I can do better have suddenly popped back into head.

Whereas a physical wound can heal, the emotional scars can linger for a lifetime and letting go of the victim mentality can be difficult to shed. After my divorce, I had embarked on a spiritual journey to climb out of the darkness. Once the feeling of peace came over me, it soon grew to a blissful stillness that silenced my demons. I no longer was a victim, but a survivor and a victim. Simply put, I had found my true inner voice, the one which encourages you, gives you hope, and pushes you to trust and believe in yourself. To put it in another way, I felt a oneness with God.

Through out my journey, I have been tested but never knocked down and my faith never wavered. However, this time around, my faith in God and my ability to succeed in life was really put to the test. After Hurricane Ike, I was beginning to feel lost because I could no longer distinguish the inner voice that constantly bolstered my spirits and motivations from the naysayers and saboteurs. Constantly reminding me of all the insecurities I ever had. Surging up from some deep hidden place, long forgotten or pushed aside was: Images of past mistake suddenly became alive as if they just happened moments ago; Echoes of past exchanges whispering like ghosts in my ears. “You aren’t good enough …” “She won’t like you….” “You’re not man enough!” “You will never accomplish anything.”

All self reminders why I felt it was better to be alone.

Was this God’s doing? Did God abandon me in my time of need?

As time passed, I became angry with God, blaming him for the rout I am in, my unemployment, my financial dependence on another person and being alone. More importantly, damning him for taking away my inner voice. As a result, I was filled with doubt and dissolution. Ever since I was laid off, writing became my therapy. I had found order to my chaotic mind, yet, it was to no avail, I had silenced myself.

Suddenly, a moment of clarity arrived. It came through a verse in a song by T.I., Dead and Gone.

Dead And Gone – by T.I.
…
No more stress, now I’m straight,
now I get it, now I take time to think before I make mistakes just for my
family’s stake,
That part of me left yesterday,
the heart of me is strong today
no regrets I’m blessed to say, the old me dead and gone away.

I’ve been travelin on this road too long,
Just tryin find my way back home,
But the old me’s dead and gone,
Dead and Gone,
I’ve been traveling on this road too long,
Just trying find my way back home,
But the old me is dead and gone,
Dead and Gone,

note: Normally, I would have provided a link to the video, however, Warner Music Group has decided to go on a tear by exercising their digital rights to force YouTube to pull down all WMG related videos. YouTube is also muting the audio portion of any video that violates WMG copyrights.

In an interview with HipHopDX, Rob Knox, one of the producers, explains the meaning of the song:

The whole point of the song is to say [T.I.'s] past is dead and gone. He’s not gonna travel whatever stupid road people think he’s gonna travel on. He’s gonna do right by his life. He’s gonna take care of his family.”

Funny thing about looking for signs, we often think God will answer us in wondrous fashion; simply, this not true. I am reminded of the old fable of the man who climbed to the top of his roof when the area around his house flooded. As the waters began to rise, the man waved it off every offer of assistance that came to him telling them God will protect him and his family. So the water continued to rise and he and his family drowned.

In heaven, he angrily asked God why didn’t He come to his rescue. God replied, ‘I sent a truck, a boat, and a helicopter. What more did you want?’

The truth about signs is very simple. They are the answers to our questions that tend to come at the moment you need it most. They come in all forms – the words to the next song you hear; the words you read in the next article; and the story line of the next movie you watch; or the unexpected strange you just met. When it happens, you will just know it.

For me, the answer I was looking for was in that song. The answer is simple – before I can truly move on, I have to make peace with my demons. By dwelling in my torment, life will pass me by. As the light turned, the tides have finally turned and I no longer have to find my way back home because “the old me is dead and gone.”

In the face of economic meltdown and global catastrophe, there will be others will feel overwhelmed by the onslaught of bad news. I share this story in hopes the ripples from my personal journey will touch the lives who are also trying to find a light at the end of their dark tunnel. The recent journey I undertook is a powerful reminder that by sharing our common humanity, wherever we are along the way, we too can play our part in broadcasting a message of hope: You are not alone. I understand your pain.

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Tags: abuse, domestic abuse, faith, God, hope, spirtuality |  Print This Post |
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