From Surviving to Thriving: Seven Years Free of Abuse - The DV Walking Wounded:

***TRIGGER WARNING!*** This story may contain references to past physically violent situations. Please proceed reading with EXTREME caution!

First off, I need to apologize to my readers for being “missing-in-action” for three weeks. I can tell I haven’t written by how grouchy I am, as all of my ideas need to either get out onto paper or typed on my laptop. It is my true therapy and the fact that I’ve neglected myself, as well as neglected you all, is intolerable. My apologies! Truly!

Before I get into the meat of today’s post, I’d like to comment on the fact that September is national “Recovery Month.” This normally refers to recovery from addiction, of which I advocate for highly in it’s truest sense. I just find it ironic…I was “addicted” or “co-dependent” to a relationship and I’m in active recovery…SEVEN years of recovery. I feel like I should come up with a “recovery” chit for survivors of DV. I actually might. That would be GRAND!

To not sound too much like Paul Harvey, BUT “…and now let’s hear ‘the rest of the story’…”

I am blessed to say that I was raised by two amazing people, my mother and my father. I had a loving and safe childhood. I saw people who loved hard and fought passionately for their family. They had disagreements, but always apologized and respected one another. I saw them both work dilligently at their jobs. I observed them tag-team each other in when they they needed the other partner. I knew they were best friends and each other’s biggest fan. I was aware of how marriages were supposed to work, because I witnessed one daily. I counted myself fortunate, because I had many friends who were being raised by single parents. That was something I didn’t want for myself or any prospective children in the future…

When I met my Abuser, I thought I was getting into a partnership with someone with the same ideals and morals as me…I was “young and dumb and in love” and didn’t know he was mirroring what I said I wanted. He was an actor, feeding me lies like candy so I would be on a sugar high from his “love” and “caring” — not really seeing what a rotten future I would have, like a mouth of cavity-riddled teeth. I was wearing rose colored glasses that I refused to take off. I was afraid if I did, it would all go away and I wouldn’t really be an adult.

Flash backward to September 14, 2017. I had just been physically beaten in front of my youngest child, strangled to the point of blacking out, beaten so hard and given head trauma while I was unconscious, and sitting panicked and sobbing inside my locked car, with my two little chiweenies. My youngest child was safely at a friend’s house. My oldest child was giving his report to the police. The police were there looking for my Abuser, who had fled, and were photographing the inside of my torn-up home. This. THIS was NOT what I expected my life to be. It looked like war zone, with five police cars worth of flashing lights blazing on my dark neighborhood street. I could see my neighbors peering out of their windows from behind slightly drawn curtains. This couldn’t be happening to me or my kids. It just could. Not. Be. The next day, I would have to testify in court that I feared for our lives, only to come home to find out that my situation was broadcast on the local news and two DCS workers were there to talk to my youngest, as well as to threaten to take him away from me should I decide to go back to my abuser. “I nearly died,” I told the nicely dressed case worker. “I’m good on flaunting death. I’m no good to these kids if I’m not here to fight for them.” This satisfied her and her partner. Girl, I thought to myself. I’m serious. There is no way I will allow this man to EVER harm me or them again. Never-ever. I promised myself and I know God heard me.

Now, flash forward to today. Today, I am at peace with who I am and where I want to go. My children are all now adults. I have a grandson I adore. I have a great job and am writing everyday — a pleasure I was previously denied in active abuse. My bankruptcy will be completed by February 1, 2025. I have found my soul mate and equal, whom I love dearly and who is kind and gentle with me. I could not be more excited about my future, despite being “middle aged.” My Abuser made a prediction that I would not be able to function with out him. I have to say, he was sort of onto something…let me elaborate…

He was right, I cannot function without him. That is, I can no longer function like I was, when I was WITH him. Without him, I live by my own wits. I make my own decisions and own my actions. If what I did was unsuccessful or didn’t work, I acknowledge it, back up, and start again. There is no longer hatred spewed, or safety sacrificed. I have to communicate how I am feeling constantly, so people around me understand, instead of keeping it in. I have to set hard boundaries with people that I love, specifically my children, so they will not revert to his ways of coping with issues or their treatment of me. I have raised and am still raising kind, caring individuals. I no longer want to perpetuate this cycle of violence: my current and future grandchildren deserve that. My children’s current and/or perspective future partners deserve that respect and care as well.

Also, I have a cousin who previously endured abuse. When she hit her seventh year FREE of her abuser, she wrote a lovely post about being in a body her abuser never touched — refering to the seven year cell regeneration cycle that I’d always read about. I really liked that post and it stuck in my mind. I liked the idea of now having a body that he’s never touched. I looked up the facts of that for more details, before writing this post. Here’s what Google revealed:

The idea that the cells in your body completely renew every 7 years is a myth, though there is some truth behind it. Different types of cells in the body regenerate at different rates, so while many cells are replaced regularly, not all are.

Here’s a breakdown:

Skin cells: Renew about every 2-4 weeks.
Red blood cells: Typically last about 3-4 months before being replaced.
Liver cells: Regenerate every 300-500 days.
Bone cells: Bones remodel continuously, but the turnover takes longer, typically about 10 years.
Brain cells (neurons): Neurons in many parts of the brain do not regenerate, meaning you have the same brain cells for most of your life, though new connections and brain cells in some areas (like the hippocampus) can form.
Heart cells: Some heart cells regenerate slowly, but the majority remain with you for your entire life.

So, while certain parts of your body regenerate relatively quickly, other parts remain for decades, and some, like neurons in the brain, don’t regenerate at all. The “7-year cycle” is an oversimplification of how cellular regeneration works.

I still like the idea that I have skin that he’s never touched, that my red blood cells are not the same, that my liver has regenerated several times since then. The information about the bone cells make sense, as I am still feel the effects of my abuse, particularly in my hips. I have bones that never healed properly and former trauma is aging my body. I have nerve damage and now have fibromyalgia from the intense stress on my body. I have a traumatic brain injury, so it make sense that brain cells don’t regenerate, per say, but that new connections can form. I feel like my brain is forming new paths to protect me. I still tout that the seven year cycle is still something I subscribe to, but for my own personal reasons. Seven years is a long time. Tastes can change every five to seven years. Seven is God’s perfect number: on the seventh day of Creation, God rested and looked onto His Creations and was satisfied; Jesus also told Peter, in Matthew 18:21-22, where He tells Peter to forgive “seventy times seven.” I have forgiven myself SO many times over, as Jesus instructed Peter. I have forgiven my Abuser, but for MY healing. I will never get that apology in reality, so I forgive to move forward. I have to take the high road in order to reach my higher self.

Freedom and healing are possible, my friends, if you want it badly enough. This takes time and severe effort…seven years of effort and work, in fact. I have met DV survivors who are just a few years free and claim to be “healed.” Healed? Nah. Actively healing? Certainly! It really is like recovering from alcohol or drug addiction. It’s a constant tending to self. We have to rewire our brain with new activities, have positive self-talk, take on solid coping mechanisms, and learn to approach our demons and defeat them by bringing them to light — just as those in addiction do by attending AA/NA meetings and working the Twelve Steps. This blog I hope serves as a component in your healing, as education and support. I know it’s therapeutic for me!

I celebrate my FREEDOM day now and always! Love and light! <3