You’re a regular office worker born with the ability to “see” how dangerous a person is with a number scale of 1-10 above their heads. A toddler would be a 1, while a skilled soldier with a firearm may score a 7. Today, you notice the reserved new guy at the office measures a 10.
I only realized that other people could not see the numbers too when I was five. When I was fourteen I finally began to understand what they meant. Most of my friends ranged from a two to a three. A four if they were pissed off. At sixteen I saw my first seven, they had a concealed weapon. Those with guns usually were automatically a five at least.
I was older now, more skilled at gauging the differences. I could easily distinguish the reasoning behind the numbers. My boss was a seven, she did control my paycheck, after all. Though she was a sweetheart. The man at the cubicle next to me was a three, he was a bitter man. All bark and no bite. I assured my other coworkers of that every time he opened his mouth.
It was a Wednesday, my favorite day. Work usually slowed towards the middle of the week, it was never as hectic as Mondays or as stressful as Fridays. That day was different, though. A tugging feeling in my gut kept me on guard. It started that morning, it was noon when I understood why. My father had always told me I had a great intuition.
He walked in, a curly mop of hair on his head. A crooked, withdrawn smile on his face. He was new, you could tell by his demeanor. He kept his arms tight across his chest, he was dressed overly formal. He had on new shoes. I had gotten good at judging based on looks, it was necessary to avoid paranoia.
I focused right above his head, I always checked the number last. A dark black ten appeared. I immediately went into panic mode. I had only ever seen eights and nines, even then they were only on television. Mass murderers held bright red nines and gang members dawned a yellow eight. The depth of the black drew me in, it was the deepest shade I had ever seen, similar to that dye or whatever that had gone viral online awhile ago.
I directed my attention back to his face. Freckles dotted his tanned skin, his gaze seemed distant. This man had probably murdered. He could have pillaged an entire village. Skinned the bodies of children and eat the meat, even. Each scenario grew darker, more gruesome than the last.
His hand stretched towards me. “Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Owen. Today’s my first day on the job. Uh, can you point me to the head office.” His voice seemed firm, a little hesitant though. The black light made me squimish under it’s glow. I nodded, I couldn’t stand being in its radiance much longer.
“I’m Elizabeth, Liz if you will. It’s right this way, follow me.” I headed towards my bosses office. In ever window he passed I could see his black light trailing behind my blue. I was a two usually, a little less than most people. I could feel his stare digging into the back of my head. Gnawing at my nerves. As soon as we got to the office I turned to walk away, but my employer called me in.
“I see you two already acquainted yourselves with each other. That’s swell, given that you will be training our new member for the next few days, Liz. Don’t worry, Owen, she’s one of the most efficient employees. You’ll be a pro in no time under her advisory.” Her white teeth shining in the fluorescent light of the office.
Friday came quickly, and Owen caught on fast. He seemed to know exactly the right questions to ask. It seemed that he had previous computer-based knowledge. The insignificant feeling of being under his glowing ten did not dissipate. I prepared myself for the worse each passing day.
Friday the tugging feeling returned. Owen walked in, more withdrawn than usual. Halfway through the day he briefly rolled up his shirt sleeves. I noticed a bruise taking up half of his left arm. It was red and purple, fresh. He quickly noticed me staring and rolled his sleeve back down. He made no effort to comment.
That night I was getting into bed when my phone lit up. ‘Owen (work)’ scrolled across the screen. I was at a loss for why he would have called me. I quickly picked up, perhaps he had a question. I was in horror at what I heard on the other end.
A female voice came across the line. She was screaming and yelling. Her sentences were scattered with profanity and derogatory phrases. “You’re useless.” She yelled.
“Please don’t do this. Please I didn’t mean to, I promise I’m trying. I got a job for you, we can make this work.” Owen replied to the girl, his voice shook. He was crying.
A loud slap could be heard. A punch probably. “You’re a waste. You might as well die.” Her voice sounded furious. Owen sobbed, but attempted to stop himself from crying. I felt frozen in place, my body aching.
The sound of a door slamming made my ears ring. “Owen? Owen, are you okay?” His shaky breaths stopped. I could hear him scrambling to get the phone out of his pocket.
“I promise whatever you heard isn’t what it seems like. I’m fine, I’m fine.” He was panting, his speech slurred. A quiet “oh shit” sounded through the phone. I could hear him get up from what I assumed was the ground.
“What’s your address?” I didn’t know what I was thinking in that moment. I knew he was not fine, but I did not know how to help.
“She’ll be back in a bit, I’m sure she just left to blow off some steam. It’s fine it’s my fault. I forgot to bring home dinner I should’ve known better. It’s fine, I need to go make some food and she’s not too fond of guests.” He stammered and tripped over his words in haste. I remembered I have the address of all the employees saved on a document for mailing reasons for work. I slipped on a coat and ran to my car.
“Get some shoes and a coat I’m on my way.”
He sat on my couch, still. I made no effort to start a conversation. I did not need to ask about the cut on his lip, bruise on his cheek, or the bruise I had seen on his arm. I glanced up at the ten above his head. It radiated blacker than ever. He stared ahead at my television, though I did not turn it on. His eyes were glazed over.
“I’ll get you a pillow and blanket, or do you want to use my bed?” I spoke, as gently as I ever could.
He snapped his head towards me. “No, no, no, I can’t stay here I need to go home. Veronica won’t be happy, I need to go.” He made an effort to stand, but I grabbed his arm. He flinched under my touch. I let go immediately.
“Please, stay. I’ll help you get your stuff in the morning. You can stay here until she gets her stuff out of your house.” He snapped after that, completely breaking down. He tumbled back onto the couch, head in his hands. “I’ll be right back.” The black of the ten that had previously consumed the room dimmed.
I made him stay in my room, I was worried he’d try to leave if I let him stay so close to the door. He could make his own decisions, but I knew this was a more intricate situation than he could comprehend. I had texted Veronica, his girlfriend, off his phone last night. I told her to get her stuff, she needed to be gone in the next week.
I woke up early Saturday, as always. I set the table; it felt odd to take out two plates. I heard the sink in the bathroom run. Soon enough I felt Owen walk into the kitchen, but I did not feel the cool, black radiance of the ten. I shivered, but continued to have my back to him as a wiped the counter.
“You don’t have to do all this.” He sighed, pulling out a chair. His voice was weak, groggy from sleep and anguish. “You barely know me and she wasn’t wrong.”
“She was extremely wrong, no person should be treated like that. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like or need.” I grabbed the pancakes I made from the microwave, I wanted to keep them warm. “I want to make sure you’re safe.”
“Thank you, I don’t know if I said it yet. I am so grateful for your help. I…I don’t know what I was capable of doing before. To myself, I mean. I was going to do something, and I think it would’ve been the wrong thing to do.” He was crying again. I turned around, but as I put the pancakes down and went to hug him, something caught my eye. A white number one glimmered over his head.
I never before had thought about the danger someone could be to themself.
hello there, howdy, my name is diz, and i’ve been wanting to make this post for a while. before i jump into it, let me start by giving you my credentials: i am a “women’s advocate” at a domestic violence shelter (i don’t particularly like that title, because i feel it minimalizes the experiences of men/non-binary survivors, but i aslo cannot argue the fact that our clientele is overwhelmingly female, and domestic violence is, in a lot of way, a result of a society based in patriarchal values, but that’s its own post)
that said, i don’t claim to be an expert. my bachelor’s degree is in english with a focus in creative writing, for fuck’s sake. therefore, what i’m going to say in this post is based off of information i’ve gathered from trainings, conferences, and what i’ve seen firsthand working daily at a DV shelter.
let’s dig in, shall we?
terminology: what the frick-frack do these words mean?
domestic violence, aka intimate partner violence: abbreviated as DV and IPV, these terms often carry the connotation of physical violence, but DV/IPV encompasses all types of aggressive behavior, be it mental, physical, verbal, sexual, financial, etc etc. now, the argument can be made that domestic violence transcends partners/spouses, and can include familial violence as well. familial violence is not to be minimized, but for purposes of discussion, what i will be referring to in this post will be solely IPV
domestic violence advocate: i’m sure this varies, but the particulars of my position are that i take crisis calls from people who are currently experiencing domestic violence, and i help manage our communal shelter by getting things for the residents, listening to them talk, and just in general spending time with them. every advocate’s experience is going to be different, tho, and i can only speak to my own
domestic violence shelter: every shelter provides services differently, but it generally amounts to providing a safe place for survivors while they are trying to escape their DV situations. when i talk about shelters, i can only speak to shelters in the usa, although there are domestic violence programs internationally. visit nnedv.org for more information about shelters near you
abuse/abusers: we’re going to be diving into the specifics of abuse real hard in this post, so i’ll keep this brief, but what i will say is that “abuse” is a hard word to swallow for some. when taking crisis calls, we usually refrain from calling it abuse unless the person on the other line calls it that. “abuse” carries baggage that not everyone is ready to take on. if this pertains to you, i ask you to look past the word, and focus on the bullet points. semantics are not what’s important here
trauma: there are so many types of trauma that it could be a post of its own, but in it’s most bare-bones definition, trauma is an experience that is distressing/disturbing, and often times has lasting effects
victim vs survivor: i have a tendency to use the term “survivor” over “victim,” because to me it’s more empowering, and gives agency to the affected person. you may hear victim, as it’s still common practice to use it, but here i will almost always use survivor
the power and control wheel
i could go on a nerd rant about the history of this wheel, but this post is already a novel and is only going to get worse, so i’ll spare you. what this wheel is, however, is a visual representation of different tactics abusers will use to maintain control over their partner
okay, are you ever going to get to the part about whether or not i’m in an abusive situation?
yes. right now.
what follows will be subsections of abuse, and the qualities of each. read through each bullet, and see if they pertain to your current situation
abuse
physical abuse:
my partner shoves, pushes, punches, slaps me, or in general puts their hands on me with the intention of causing harm
my partner has thrown objects at me
my partner has threatened me with weapons/has appropriated tools or objects around the house and used them as weapons
my partner has prevented me from getting medical care
my partner has initiated fights with me when they were/i was driving that were serious enough to put us at risk of an accident
my partner punches walls, breaks property, uses violence in my surroundings without actually putting his hands on me
my partner has made me fear for my life
verbal abuse:
my partner calls me names, often derogatory in nature
my partner yells or screams at me when we argue
my partner verbally puts me down by targeting my physical appearance, my intelligence, my self-worth, or anything that will make me feel lesser as a person
my partner makes accusations about my actions, such as saying that i am cheating on them, or that i am lying when i’m not
my partner sends me harassing or threatening messages via text or social media
my partner verbally threatens violence
emotional abuse:
my partner makes me feel worthless or ugly
my partner “gaslights” me, or makes me doubt myself or makes me feel like i’m crazy
my partner encourages or forces me to stop seeing friends or family so that i feel isolated and without a support system
my partner has told lies about me to other people to make me look bad and make them not want to associate with me; this includes family and friends
my partner makes me feel guilty for my emotions, especially if it involves me being unhappy with their actions
my partner blames me for everything, including their negative behavior
my partner uses my children/family/loved ones as leverage in order to keep me from leaving
my partner denies having done negative actions, or refuses to take responsibility for them
my partner makes me feel that if i leave them i will not be able to make it on my own
my partner threatens to take their own life if i leave them
my partner stalks me, checks up on me as though making sure i am where i say i am, or will show up at my work/events/activities without notice
my partner gets angry if i stay out too long, or if i do anything that doesn’t involve them
my partner says that they should be enough for me, and that i don’t need anyone or anything else
my partner makes me feel subservient to them
sexual abuse:
my partner forces me to have sex when i have said no
my partner puts me in sexual situations where i feel like i don’t have the right or ability to say no, even though i don’t want to participate
my partner makes me participate in sexual acts that i am uncomfortable with
my partner touches, gropes, or fondles me when i tell them not to
my partner makes me feel guilty for not participating in sexual acts with them
my partner dismisses my sexual discomforts, such as excessive porn watching, or fetishes i find demeaning
my partner has coerced me into having unprotected sex when i wasn’t okay with it
my partner has made me feel guilty for wanting to have protected sex
my partner has engaged in sexual acts with me while keeping STDs/STIs a secret from me
my partner has intentionally given me an STD/STI or has intentionally gotten me pregnant
financial abuse
my partner won’t let me work; makes me financially rely on them
my partner makes me rely on them financially, but will not provide me with enough money to meet my needs
my partner refuses to get a job and relies on me financially
my partner controls the money i make/expects me to pay for all of their wants and needs
my partner doesn’t allow me to have my own bank account, debit card, or credit card
my partner takes money out of our joint account/savings without consulting me
my partner puts loans/credit cards/debts in my name without my consent/through coercion
my partner has negatively affected my credit score against my will
risk assessment
while everything on these lists are valid and serious forms of abuse, we as advocates also look for a few specific traits or behaviors that may increase the lethality of a relationship. if any of the following pertains to you, your life may be in immediate danger:
my partner has choked me, strangled me, or suffocated me
my partner is violent and owns a gun/multiple guns
my partner has threatened me with said gun
my partner has a previous history of domestic abuse/has been arrested for domestic assault
my partner has hurt or killed an animal or pet i care about
my partner has made ominous sounding comments such as, “if i can’t have you, no one can,” or “until death do us part [in an uncomfortable context]”
my partner has verbally threatened my life
my partner has threatened the lives of my children/family/or people i love
my partner has made me believe they will truly end my life
okay, well i only relate to a few of these. that doesn’t make my relationship abusive, does it?
let’s put it this way: every bullet on this list, on its own, is a toxic behavior that should not be present in a relationship, and is enough reason to leave someone. and something to consider is that abuse rarely starts out with everything at once. abuse escalates. nobody goes to the first date saying, “btw, i intend to abuse you down the line, you chill with that?” abuse is a lot like the frog in the pot. you start off with low heat, and the frog doesn’t realize until it’s too late that it’s boiling to death. consider everything on this list as a red flag. a healthy relationship should not have red flags
but i can’t leave because…
i don’t have anywhere to go
have you exhausted all your family/friend resources? go through them all, and if that’s still a no-go, check out your local domestic violence shelters. they can help you figure out housing, can provide you with food, clothing, and hygiene while you try to get back on your feet, and will provide you with the resources you need to become independent. go to nnedv.org to look for shelters near you
i’m afraid the abuse will escalate if i leave
safety planning is something domestic violence advocates are trained in. if you work with a professional, they should help you figure out how to get you safe, even if your partner has a history of stalking, tracking, or violent behavior. and if you stay, the abuse may, and probably will, escalate anyway
they will take my kids/i will lose my kids/i don’t want my kids to go through that
kids are one of the most difficult factors in IPV situations, and your concerns are valid, but there are options. protection orders often can let you add your children on them, so that if it is granted, you can get temporary custody while you figure out the long-term solution. schools and daycares will usually work with you if you’re worried your partner may attempt to take them without your consent. many cities have legal aide resources for low-income individuals, and custody is a common thing they deal with. as for not wanting to put them through all those changes, something you should consider is “what kind of trauma are my children experiencing in the situation they are already in?”
they said they will change and i want to give them the chance
that is 100% your right, and i can’t make the decision for you. all i can do is speak from my experience, and from my experience, i have never seen an abuser change their behavior. exactly zero times. that information is there for you to make of it what you will, and i won’t judge you, however it is you take it, but know that that is what i’ve seen firsthand
i want to try couple’s therapy first
again, you do what you feel you need to do, but it is a statistical fact that abusers will often use couple’s therapy as a means of gaining more control over their partner, and therefore, it usually causes more harm than good
i feel stupid for being in this situation to begin with
one of my favorite quotes is, “when you look at someone through rose colored glasses, all the red flags just look like flags.” we all end up in situations we wish we hadn’t, and we all make choices we’re not fond of, but that doesn’t make us stupid. and someone treating you badly is not a reflection on you, it’s a reflection on them. abuse is never the survivor’s fault
i have left before, and then went back, and i’m too embarrassed to leave again
there are currently, right this minute, at least four repeat clients at my shelter that only houses 8 women at a time. the average amount of times it takes for someone to leave an abusive partner is 7. let me repeat that. it takes upwards of about 7 times before a person leaves their abuser for good. never feel bad for going back, and never feel like you’re not able to make changes. “past performance is not a predictor of future events.” maybe this time will be the time
i love them
hey, that’s entirely okay. women come to me all the time and say that they feel guilty because even though they know what was done to them wasn’t right, they still love their abusers, and what i always tell them is this: you don’t fall out of love overnight. an abuser never introduces themselves as an abuser, and you did not fall in love with the person who is violent towards you. it’s okay to have mixed feelings.
but what you should do is stop and consider, what are the parts of them you love? is it the person they pretended to be at the beginning, or the person who they showed themselves to be? are all the sweet nothings, promises to change, or nice gestures enough to make up for the abuse? is what you’re feeling love, or a fear of being alone? and, most importantly do you realize that you deserve to be treated well?
now? i guess now it’s up to you decide what you want to do. my inbox is always open if you have questions, and there are always people who want to help. the first steps are yours, and you get to decide what direction you’re going to go.
good luck, and be safe. you have me in your corner
The new headcanon is that Junkrat has never seen D.Va outside her mech and believes she’s an omnic who ate a teenage girl
He sees her mech start blowing up and she pops out and he’s like “phew thank god that lil sheila got free of that tin can before it blew up” and then another one falls from the sky five seconds later and scoops her back up and he LOSES HIS SHIT
shoutout to the dude in the biology building who walked down the hallway carrying three (3) entirely intact 5 foot tall corn stalks rooted in a gallon ziplock bag, looked around confusedly, and walked back the way he came
BettSplendens Tumblr Evac 