Anatomy of an Abuser: Addendum

Since a number of folks have asked me privately whether Anatomy of an Abuser was fact or fiction I thought I would clarify the series a bit. While I am a horror writer, I could not possibly begin to make up or imagine the true horror Lesa in the series went through. Lesa was indeed a real person, in fact four real persons melded into one for the sake of impact and boiling things down into a cohesive storyline. Every detail, every event in the series, did indeed happen. The Lesa who died was my grandmother (my Meme, as our French side called her). She was 62.

John was also quite horribly real. Every abusive incident described and ascribed to him he was indeed responsible for. And worse. There were personal things I simply could not write about. John was also four persons melded into one.

The point of the series of course was not to create a character who overcame all obstacles and prevailed at the end, like in fiction. The point was to drag the dark evil of domestic violence and child abuse out into the light and, with any luck at all, perhaps help one person escape it should they be in the situation, or convince one person who is not to do something about it. Get involved. Help. But most of all—stop it. Permanently and irrevocably.

This is an epidemic that simply must be eradicated. Please, if you can, do something about it. Volunteer at a shelter; do something, anything, to bring awareness to this problem. Speak out. Scream out. Alter the status quo. It truly can start with just one person. One courageous person.

It’s risky. I won’t lie to you. Many of the assholes who are abusing, though cowards, are dangerous cowards. Police probably are more often wounded in duty breaking up domestic problems than robberies. I don’t have the stats on it but I’m sure they would back me up. But if you think you are afraid to do something about it, to get in the middle, think of how the person involved feels. How the child being battered feels.

Band together. Tell someone who can help. Make authorities aware, as useless as I have seen them be in these situations. Make them take abuse seriously. If enough people take a stand, then, maybe, just maybe…

To ignore it, to let it go on…that’s the easy thing to do. But is it the right thing to do? The human thing to do? The compassionate thing to do?

It’s so easy to say, Oh, that’s not my life, not my problem. But if this is allowed to go on…let me tell you, one day it will indeed be your problem. Violence and bullying never stay contained. Those perpetrating it can never get enough of the power, the high they feel dominating another. It WILL spill over. At some point you or someone you care about will be affected by it. Maybe destroyed by it. As cheesy as it might seem, it reminds me of the scene from Spider-man (movie and comic book) where Peter Parker—in full possession of his spider powers—allows a criminal to escape because it’s not his problem. The very criminal who a short time later murders his beloved Uncle. He learns an irreversible lesson that night. The hard way. Don’t let that happen to you or someone you love. “With great power comes great responsibility.” That’s the adage from Spider-man, the lesson Peter learns from his uncle.

But “With one voice comes great change.” Make that voice yours. Make that the lesson you teach.

I was too young to do anything about it when my grandmother died. Too young except to break off any and all contact with my grandfather beyond that point, in the couple years he had left before passing away. Now, I can do more. I can, through words, try to make folks aware, and challenge all abusers out there, let them know that they can’t shut everybody up. They can’t beat or terrorize everybody into silence.

As far as I am concerned, they can simply go to hell. I’m willing to pay boat fare…