Full Circle
I was at work yesterday cruising through some easy repairs, about to dig into a probably-software thing, when C came back and said he was about to head to lunch and needed someone to take over-there was a customer who was in a domestic violence situation and whoever went needed to be prepared to spend some extended time.
"I've got it," I said. "I know a thing or two about that."
She had a very complicated situation, because she and her husband had been using the same two computers for months, working together on a project. So we needed to consolidate her information on the one computer and lock it down so he couldn't access it remotely. We also needed to ensure the voice memos on her iPhone-recordings of the final incidents-were backed up in multiple locations and available to law enforcement.
All this took quite some time, so there was a lot of time for her to talk. She was amazingly frank, which I guess is the way you can afford to be with kind strangers. Not quite as easy as being frank with your family and close friends.
She talked, eventually, about this-about the shame of domestic violence. About the shame of the powerlessness, the guilt of making your child a witness, the indignity. The scandal.
She kept it together, mostly. Got a little red in the eyes and sniffly in a few points, so that I was ready to reach for the tissues, but I wasn't going to pull them out because I knew once they came out the floodgates would open. At that point she needed to feel herself together and strong.
She has family nearby, which is good. It's something that I didn't have.
Would things have been different, then? If I hadn't had (hadn't felt like I had) to go it alone? Until I reached out?
Would other people have encouraged me to just leave and end it?
What I do know is I don't feel the shame anymore. I still, however, feel the guilt.
"I've got it," I said. "I know a thing or two about that."
She had a very complicated situation, because she and her husband had been using the same two computers for months, working together on a project. So we needed to consolidate her information on the one computer and lock it down so he couldn't access it remotely. We also needed to ensure the voice memos on her iPhone-recordings of the final incidents-were backed up in multiple locations and available to law enforcement.
All this took quite some time, so there was a lot of time for her to talk. She was amazingly frank, which I guess is the way you can afford to be with kind strangers. Not quite as easy as being frank with your family and close friends.
She talked, eventually, about this-about the shame of domestic violence. About the shame of the powerlessness, the guilt of making your child a witness, the indignity. The scandal.
She kept it together, mostly. Got a little red in the eyes and sniffly in a few points, so that I was ready to reach for the tissues, but I wasn't going to pull them out because I knew once they came out the floodgates would open. At that point she needed to feel herself together and strong.
She has family nearby, which is good. It's something that I didn't have.
Would things have been different, then? If I hadn't had (hadn't felt like I had) to go it alone? Until I reached out?
Would other people have encouraged me to just leave and end it?
What I do know is I don't feel the shame anymore. I still, however, feel the guilt.