Here goes - about 5? years ago, maybe 6 now - my husband and I were in our home - a cute little condo in central Ohio, and something happened that agitated him. Now, I can't recall what got his feathers all in a ruffle, but I do recall what happened next.
As I was sitting there in the family room, he boiled. I'm sure I wasn't innocent and sitting there just saying nothing - but at the same time, the possibility that I was just sitting there listening like I had for the previous ten years, is pretty high.
Two side notes before I continue - my husband was a cyclist. He loved buying all of the new gadgets for his sport - helmets, shoes, etc. Think about the gear a cyclist wears for a moment - a helmet is pretty much the only protective gear one would have. The helmet is designed to protect your head in the event of a collision with an object, moving vehicle, another cyclist - just, for this story - I want you to think of the impact that a bicycle helmet is designed to take.
The second side note - we lived in a condo - had a basement. In the kitchen, we had cheap linoleum that was probably installed like a sticker. The flooring wasn't that of ceramic, or other tile.
As my husband's anger increased, however it happened, he had his helmet. In the rage of emotion, he threw the helmet on the floor. That helmet - the one designed to take on a car to protect your brain? It cracked along the side. It was in this moment that I became more terrified of the man I chose to marry, to honor, to cherish, to have, to hold for eternity than I ever had been in our marriage. If he did that to a bike helmet, what could he do to me?
I had a friend down the street, just a small jog away, that gave me a key in case I ever needed to escape. I had a change of clothing in my vehicle so that way I could leave and report to work if I needed to make a quick escape.
I share this, not for pity. I share this because this happens so often. Incidents like this happened in *my* home on a frequent basis. Our relationship started off swell. He bought things I loved, he showered me and my family with presents over Christmas, he called me, text me, said how I was his angel. Looking back, this is called "love bombing."
I'll share more as time goes on, as to not make this a novel - but I wanted you to know an element of my story. An element of why Race2Rise is so important to me.
Combining my two "causes" of mental health awareness and domestic violence awareness into one - I FIRMLY, SOLIDLY, and nearly INFINITELY believe someone wouldn't hurt those who love them if they were mentally healthy and they would be able to love them, maturely, in return. We don't talk about these things enough. Even myself. I think of how often I've uttered "corona virus, toilet paper, tissues" and such over the past month - but I haven't shared my story. Not enough.
I have a keen radar for these things too - once you have an experience, you tend to notice similar experiences. I talk. I'm here. As important as it is to find a cure for COVID-19 - more people are affected by abuse and a lack of proper resources to be healthy than anything I can think of.
Join me? At least, share my story. Sparkle on.
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