This story discusses domestic violence.
I am a victim survivor of domestic violence, but sometimes surviving even seems like a stretch.
It's been four years since I was granted a five-year no contact domestic violence order. I have since found the most amazing partner; we have married and had a baby. Most people think the horror of my life before is a distant memory, no longer affecting me.
That couldn't be further from the truth.
Yes, the piece of paper has protected me (I'm one of the lucky ones) from being contacted by him. But that piece of paper does not stop the nightmares of being choked, dragged by my hair, punched, and thrown around like a rag doll.
That piece of paper doesn’t protect me from the instant dread I feel when ANYONE in my life gives me a thumbs up emoji, my body now associating a simple thumbs up as a warning for imminent danger, because that's what it meant for years of my life.
That piece of paper doesn’t stop my body tensing up and holding my breath every time I see a white 4WD on road (FYI, there are A LOT of white 4WDs on the road) until I can clearly see the number plate and let out a sigh of relief.
That piece of paper doesn't spare my now husband from constantly having to reassure me that he's not angry, he isn't going to leave, he's not going to yell or throw things. He has never shown any aggression towards me at all, so why doesn't that piece of paper give me the confidence to tell him he didn't stack the dishwasher correctly without hours of mental gymnastics, running over every possible worst reaction scenario in my head?
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