On Wednesday night, I was strangled until I lost consciousness. I learned a lot about myself that night, and I learned a lot about what really matters and what really doesn’t.
I learned that a ton of stuff can go through your mind in a very, very short amount of time. 15-20 seconds can feel like 6-7 years.
I learned that you can’t say words that start with air. When there is no air in your body, you can’t move your mouth into those shapes. It’s weird.
I learned that necklaces are really strong. They can break through your neck skin.
I learned that my kid is the most important thing in the whole world to me. She is my why. Always. My life didn’t flash before me in some sort of comic strip like in the movies. She did.
I learned that someone can look you in your eyes and watch your light go out. I learned what that felt like to let them take that last look at you.
I learned that I may never wear anything tight around my neck ever again. I have cut the neck out of my shirts every morning since it happened.
I learned that some bruises show up immediately, and that some bruises show up days later. The ones that show up days later are really really painful.
I learned that even if someone tries to kill you, there’s still someone out there that will pay to bail them out of jail, so you will be trapped in your house like a little mouse scared for your life.
And then, when I made it to the hospital, and the nurses and the advocates started helping me figure out which way was up, because when someone squeezes your neck until you lose consciousness, all the blood vessels around your eyes pop, and it really feels super weird, and I had a second to breathe, I learned a little more about strangling, and how it’s like the number one factor to determine if a man is going to kill you or not.
And the thing I want to talk about, while it’s fresh in my mind. The thing I want to explain– the thing I haven’t read anywhere, is that there’s a different feeling when you’re being strangled for control than when you are being strangled and left for dead. And the point is that, a man who uses it to control you EVER is willing to use it to kill you. Period.
When he strangled me before, or held me down, it was to control me. To stop me from doing whatever it was that he didn’t want me to do, or to make me understand that he was in charge. It was always about control.
And it works. Strangling a woman for control is a really effective way to shut her up. Even if you’re really outspoken. Like me. When you strangle a woman, you are telling her that you control the very air she breathes.
And so, you learn to know what those feel like. When your neck is grabbed, or a shirt is pulled. That kind of controlling power move. You know that is telling you to straighten up. To act right, or something way worse can happen.
Then there’s the other kind of strangling… the one that is there to take away your oxygen to deny your brain its fuel. To end you.
Neither is okay, but if you’ve ever felt the first one. Even for a second…. get out now. Because the second one is the scariest most terrifying feeling I could ever imagine, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Ever.
