DV (Life – Share Your Story) | Part 2

DV (Life – Share Your Story): Part 1 | Part 2

Then I remember. The pain starts rushing back in. The pain of rejection. The pain of sadness. The pain of being alone. The pain of reality. Why won’t everyone understand? They tell me everything will be alright?? NO! It won’t be alright! They say just to relax. How can I relax? My thoughts are now swirling and being convoluted by images of the past. I cannot think straight. I cannot seem to stop the thoughts. They are starting to build up and the noise in my head is deafening… I am afraid that someone else will hear it. I try to grasp onto one thought. I try to concentrate. I try to make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Then I hear a noise. What was that? I then realize it was my own voice. I was screaming STOP! Please stop I mumble to myself. Please? I am weeping the pain is all too much to bear. How can life be this painful? How can it be? Where is the laughter? When will it come? It seems like years since I laughed. I wonder if I can still laugh.

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DV (Life – Share Your Story) | Part 1

DV (Life – Share Your Story): Part 1 | Part 2

Sleep oh wondrous sleep how I welcome you. It is the time when the thoughts stop plaguing me. If I could just stay asleep. If I never had to wake up. The pain all too much too bear. The pain never goes away. I call dull it for just a little while but it just comes back to haunt me once more. It never leaves me alone. Why? Why? Why? It just mocks me. It taunts me. It sits on the sidelines and cheers as I spiral further and further into despair. I cannot understand, I cannot conceive it any more. Reality just too much to bear.

That ringing, the incessant ringing. Make it stop! Every time the phone starts ringing it sends me into a panic. My heart skips a beat, my thoughts start to become jumbled. I want to answer it but I can’t. It is just too much. Who is it I wonder? What do they want? Is it another person asking for something I don’t have? No, I do not want to participate in a phone study! No I cannot pay you! Yes I am fine! Somehow they can see through me. Am I that transparent? If I don’t answer will it stop? Will all of the calls stop? How many times will it ring this time? Make it stop! Sorry I am not here, leave a message at the sound of the tone. Beep! Oh how that beep resounds in my mind. I have come to love it. I find solace in it. Then after that I do not want to hear what anyone has to say. I will not listen. I will not pay attention. I will just ignore it again….. My friend is calling and wanting to know how I am doing once again. Why don’t you answer? Are you alright? I have not heard from you in days. I am worried about you….

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I Believed (Life – Share Your Story)

I was ancient, old; losing my window of opportunity and the pressure was that of an obese American’s blood. I was 25; being shunned by my parents for moving out without a husband. I was aiming for the stars with my career ambitions. My parents were aiming for the basket with their “burden.” I had a casual conversation with an old acquaintance or a part-time friend. I mentioned it to two very close friends of mine, who shook me verbally and put the thought in my head.

“Hello, you have an opportunity right in front of you. Clearly he likes you. He is a doctor and decent looking. What’s wrong with him?”
Those were the words which opened my mind and heart and I put all faith in Allah. I foresaw this as a moment of, “it was meant to be”. Somewhere in the years past, we had made a verbal commitment. If we’re 25 and not married, we shall marry one another. I felt he came into my world once again to answer my parent’s prayers and cease their struggle to find me a suitable husband.

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This Is My Story (Life – Share Your Story)

I have lived 20 years of my life struggling each day to cope with what I have experienced. When I was younger my father physically and emotionally abused my mother, my younger brother and me. It still happens till this day, I couldn’t have been more than five years old when one of the more violent episodes took place and every time I see my mother I remember the pain she had. I don’t intend for this to be a detailed story of all the incidents that I’ve witnessed and experienced, if questioned I could give so many in-depth, it would shock you.

When I left Primary school and entered Secondary school I needed something to save me. I had suicidal thoughts for a long time; I needed to escape from the violence I was facing. I remember being no less than 7 years old and playing with a knife wondering if I could just slip away from it all. And then when I was the age of 10 I would wonder if hanging myself would solve anything. By the time I turned 12, I had social anxiety issues.

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Bismillah (Life – Share Your Story)

Bismillah

I would like to share my story; I don’t know how to start as when people do speak about domestic violence, they mention their husband or wife. I believe a person who witnesses violence from childhood accepts abusive behaviour from the other half as something hateful, but abnormal. Myself as a child saw very, very ugly violence from my dad towards my mum, Subhan-Allah I don’t want to say anything bad about my parents. May Allah forgive them for what they have done, ameen. This was purely out of ignorance and under the influence of Shayateen, but for the sake of sharing I will say that violence was very damaging to me, even now if I read anything sad such as honour killing stories, it makes me cry.

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