Things that Exist

100percenthipster:

insanityisfree:

melrosediner:

anonymousjuice:

teasingjezebelle:

an0m0ly:

Damage

This is not my usual post. But it’s something I had to share. As you read this, imagine how your reaction would differ if this story were being told by a woman, talking about how her husband treated her.

I have been separated from my wife for over a year, though we continue to share a house. We live on separate floors. We share the house because we need to parent our son together, and because we can’t afford to maintain two households.

I’d like to tell you a story, illustrating one reason why I am divorcing her. This is an example of the treatment I have received over the past fourteen years.

This evening, while she was drinking her wine, my estranged wife took exception to the fact that I wanted to talk about how tense she’s been. She said she didn’t want to talk about it.

I left the room (so as to comply with her request).

I went upstairs to use our tiny guest bathroom. She began to yell and throw things around the kitchen, then eventually charged up the stairs and into the bathroom, just as I was finishing and getting ready to leave. She confronted me there, holding her half-full wine glass in her hand. Her voice got louder, her gestures wilder. 

She complained that I had upset her by wanting to talk when she had told me she didn’t want to talk. As I began to feel uncomfortable, I said, “You’re saying it’s my fault you can’t express your emotions responsibly like an adult?”

She said, “Yes!! It’s because you want to go off and take a vacation with your girlfriend!” Then she threw the contents of her glass in my face and smashed it against my bare chest.

The results are pictured here.

I stood there, with shattered glass at my feet, glass shards sticking in my skin, bleeding, for five minutes or so. I asked her to move so that I could leave. She waved the broken stem of the glass in the air and said, “Leave!! Who’s stopping you?”

I told her she was standing between me and the door. I felt threatened. 

She laughed and said, “You’re 6 foot 3 and 250 pounds! You can’t feel threatened by me!”

I said, “You just broke a glass on my chest and cut me. You’re standing there with the stem in your hands. Yes. I feel threatened.

She said, “No, you don’t.”

I asked her to move out of the way and let me pass. I didn’t want her to think I was pushing her or threatening her.

She held her ground, waved the broken stem and shouted, “Go on! Leave! I’m not stopping you!”

After I asked her repeatedly, she finally moved a bit and I left, carefully stepping over the broken glass.

I have posted this here as evidence, and to help those who may think that size and gender make a difference when abuse is concerned. People who, like my estranged, think some have permission to feel threatened and some don’t.

Abusers come in all sizes and genders.

She and I went to a half dozen therapists over the years. At each initial session, every therapist took a look at me, then at her (5’4” 150 lbs.). Then he or she would gravely ask my wife, “Do you feel safe?”

None ever thought to ask me.

Thanks for listening.

Because this needs to be shared. Because abuse is wrong no matter what. Because this saddens my heart.

:(

honestly, fuck tumblr. if this was a woman this would be the only thing on my dash.

with that being said, fuck people who think that women are the only ones that can be abused in a relationship. and fuck crazy women, as well.

Fuck abuse. This should have the ten thousand notes that  every women’s domestic abuse case has.

Regards,

IIF 

I’m glad to see something like this on my dashboard finally. Not the fact that he got abused by his wife, but to show that not only women are victims of abuse (like so many women claim). It’s a shame that so many stupid people out there think -and defend- only women when it comes to abuse and not men.

I know this doesn’t involve gays or a detailed over-analyzing of children’s movies, but hopefully more people will reblog this. ^Previous poster^ was right. Fuck you, Tumblr.

nevver:

Scary
nonplussedbyreligion:

The Hard Break.
I used to be a hardcore Christian.  I mean on fire for Christ, sold out to Christ, bride of Christ Christian.  I was absolutely in love with Him, despite always having lingering doubts.  I can’t remember the amount of times I was told that my faith wasn’t strong enough, that I was being tested by the devil, or that I was just going through a season of doubt.  What the hell is a season of doubt?  When I finally came to my senses and realized that God and Christianity were nothing but a piles of crap, I felt like I was leaving an abusive long term relationship.  It felt like coming home to found the love of my life in flagrante delicto with my best friend.  It hurt like hell!  I spent a lot of time angry.  Angry at my family for raring me in such a cesspool.  Angry at the world for being predominantly religious and subjecting me to it’s bullshit.  But most of all, I was angry at myself for allowing Christianity to ‘happen’ to me, not once but twice.  Surprisingly I had declared myself an agnostic in my late teens, but went back in my 20’s.  I actually didn’t even get baptized until I was 30!  By then I had all the tools I needed to know better, but yet I hung on.
Seeing this comic reminded me of what that time was like.  I think that’s why I’m only hostile to Christians when they send me nasty comments/questions.   I’m very understanding of what it’s like to be in love with a God.  I also know what it’s like to be comepletely free of him.  The difference is amazing.  Coming out of the other end of the tunel and leaving the anger and confusion behind was the best thing I ever did.  I won’t blow sunshine up your ass and say leaving the only way of life or belief system you’ve ever know is easy; but man is it worth it. ~ Kim

nonplussedbyreligion:

The Hard Break.

I used to be a hardcore Christian.  I mean on fire for Christ, sold out to Christ, bride of Christ Christian.  I was absolutely in love with Him, despite always having lingering doubts.  I can’t remember the amount of times I was told that my faith wasn’t strong enough, that I was being tested by the devil, or that I was just going through a season of doubt.  What the hell is a season of doubt?  When I finally came to my senses and realized that God and Christianity were nothing but a piles of crap, I felt like I was leaving an abusive long term relationship.  It felt like coming home to found the love of my life in flagrante delicto with my best friend.  It hurt like hell!  I spent a lot of time angry.  Angry at my family for raring me in such a cesspool.  Angry at the world for being predominantly religious and subjecting me to it’s bullshit.  But most of all, I was angry at myself for allowing Christianity to ‘happen’ to me, not once but twice.  Surprisingly I had declared myself an agnostic in my late teens, but went back in my 20’s.  I actually didn’t even get baptized until I was 30!  By then I had all the tools I needed to know better, but yet I hung on.

Seeing this comic reminded me of what that time was like.  I think that’s why I’m only hostile to Christians when they send me nasty comments/questions.   I’m very understanding of what it’s like to be in love with a God.  I also know what it’s like to be comepletely free of him.  The difference is amazing.  Coming out of the other end of the tunel and leaving the anger and confusion behind was the best thing I ever did.  I won’t blow sunshine up your ass and say leaving the only way of life or belief system you’ve ever know is easy; but man is it worth it. ~ Kim