A small part of my story...

Let's just call him Ed.

It was during my last year of college, I was living off campus in a 5 bedroom house with 4 roommates - 3 were guys, and 1 other girl. It was a sweet arrangement and I loved that house. We all got along, we were all in the music department (except the other gal who was a local bartender and friend of mine) and we even hosted music department parties there because it was a fairly spacious place. I remember walking in one night after getting out of work and finding several professors and a department head in my livingroom.

Towards the end of a party one night, I was talking to several people including my roommate Ed, no one had gotten drunk that I was aware of, no drama, everything seemed pretty light, when suddenly Ed grabbed my shirt with both fists, spun me around, threw me hard against the wall and pressed his forearm against my neck so I could barely breathe - and proceeded to scream at me just inches from my face for what seemed like an eternity until some friends pulled him off me. The only thing I remember out of everything he said was something like I'm never home, I never have dinner with everyone, I come and go as I please...and that's about all I remember. I could not believe that I had acted in a manner that would have warranted a man almost throwing me through a wall or strangling me in such anger.

My friend Dave stayed with me that night, sleeping on the floor of my room, because we had no idea if Ed would do something else crazy that night, and I had nowhere to go.

The next day he wouldn't even look at me. There was no apology. He told Dave he wasn't drunk or anything, that he knew exactly what he did. He wasn't sorry. I moved out that afternoon. I've not seen or spoken to Ed since, this was 1986, I think.

It has been more than 20 years, and only now have I really been able to talk about and process that incident. Since that abuse (yes, I can say that now, I was assaulted physically and emotionally) I've struggled with who I am and what others think of me. I spent way too much time trying to find what it was about me, what it was that I'd done that would have elicited such a violent reaction from another human being. I've never done a malicious or knowingly mean thing to anyone, ever. Was I in denial? Was I really this horrible person? Was there something about me that hurts other people? Am I that out of touch with how I treat others?

I still think about Ed. I wish I didn't. I wish I knew what his real beef with me was. Somehow not eating dinner with everyone and not being around a lot doesn't really seem to warrant such a reaction. Did I block the rest out? I honestly don't remember him saying anything else that made any sense. He just seemed very pissed that I was, well, not living up to whatever his expectations were of me and our relationship - not that we really had any sort of relationship other than casual friends with similar interests that lived in the same house.

This kind of closure is what I hunger for sometimes. My brain will spin endlessly trying to make sense of something that I guess just doesn't make sense. I spend way too much time trying to find out what I did to deserve being assaulted...when the truth of the matter is that I did NOTHING TO DESERVE BEING ASSAULTED. Physical violence is never justified unless it's self-defense. I spent way too many years blaming myself for being treated that way. If only I had done such-and-such, then I wouldn't have gotten beat up. Damn - the lies we tell ourselves.

But for a man to assault a woman. What must it take to push a man to that extreme? I've met other "Eds" in my lifetime, and thankfully I've not been physically assaulted...but emotional abuse is just as bad. I won't go into details, it's all in the past and just not worth digging up. Been there, done that in 12-step and with my sponsor. Let's just say my radar is now on super sensitive. What is it about some men that they feel they must treat a woman this way?