Be forewarned, this is a powerful essay.  It describes a woman's life of emotional abuse.  She finally had the courage to tell her story.  Just reading it makes your heart sink to your feet, you can FEEL what it must be like to live with an alcoholic who belittles and seeks control over every little thing about you.

Please forward this to any woman you know whom you suspect may be living with the fear, despair, and humiliation this essay describes.  Then, support her to have the courage to make a change.

I am a mother, a wife, a daughter. I am a sister, a sister in law, a friend. I matter.

I have cried myself to sleep on more than one night, being screamed at for something out of my control. I have been told to hit the road, leave, get out; with only a dollar in my pocket. I've been told I'm a mooch, a waste and stupid. I've been called a bitch, an idiot and well more than I can say here. I've been told the death of my ex was my fault, even though he decided to take his own life after more than 15 years. I've been told it was my fault a knife was put to my throat. Had I known then what I face now, I would have taken the knife.

I've been treated like a child, allowed out only when it was necessary. I'm only here to do laundry, cook and clean up after you. I'm not allowed to drive your car. My battery was ripped from my own, when I made it known I was leaving some months ago. When I ask to have the car for the day, I'm scoffed at. I haven't a need for a car. It needs to be parked outside your work.

I'm not allowed to have money for my own needs. (Mind you I left my own employment to insure yours was a success) But you hold the money from your own paycheck, not allowing me to have any cash for even the most basic of needs. You purchase what you want, when you want it. To hell with what I might need or want. You tell me I have a roof over my head, that should be enough.

You rail against me about silliness like a cell phone bill (the simplest of communication needs), yet don't mind spending the equivalent in one night at a bar. Once stumbling drunk, you set out to make me feel less than human with insults and vile words, not to mention breaking household objects. The only ones in this house that haven't suffered your wrath are the animals. Are they next?

You talk to me as though I am incapable of understanding the simplest sentences. Never mind I hold an advanced degree in Ethics. You do not value me or care that I might make a valuable contribution to the world. You sabotage every effort I make to make a career move for myself. If I had a job interview right now, I could not take it. I have no clothes appropriate for such, I'm in such need of a hair cut and basic upkeep, I'd be ashamed to be seen in anyone's office.

You want me to support you and take care of your needs, yet are unwilling to do the same for me. You have issues ranging back far beyond my control or understanding, yet you want me to take them in hand and fix them. I cannot. They are things YOU must handle.

You've seen to it, that I am no longer confident, and engaging, but rather sad and scared that I will never be able to be what I once was.

The problem with this whole thing is that I do matter. I am intelligent and I am afraid now of your alcoholic rage.  You always apologize the next day. It means nothing now. I will leave. If it means leaving all that I have in this world, except myself and my pets, I will. I will find a way to get the money and way out.

I am "That" woman. The one who will hold you accountable for the damage you have done now and the rest of your life.

Debbie Lawrence has a blog Bird On A Wire where she published this essay.  She hopes her declaration will help other women living some variation of the life she describes have the courage to speak out and make a change for themselves.

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