“But I worked for a whole year to make this happen!” The representative from the Disabled Persons Protection Commission (DPPC) expressed her anger and discouragement to the small team assembled. Katrina’s DPPC worker, the Carson Center domestic violence advocate and the advocate from the local shelter had just helped load her medical supplies and her wheelchair into the van to return Katrina to her home, where her abusive husband awaited her.
Katrina’s pastor and her neighbor had worked to gain her trust and help break the isolation that helped keep her trapped in the relationship in which she was dependent upon the abusive partner for most acts of self care. Pararplegic following a diving accident in a shallow pool at the age of twelve, at first Katrina had felt overwhelmed with the bounty of having found someone who would love her as she was; she had given up hope of romantic love. She met her husband at church, and he seemed to be sent straight from heaven.. He was giving and selfless. Everyone at church could see his goodness in how he attended to her.
After they married, her husband and caretaker slowly turned menacing and sadistic. He made her beg for help; he was unnecessarily rough with transfers to and from the chair to the toilet, or the bed. He humiliated her and abused her sexually.
Katrina’s father was an older parent. After her mother had died, he had done his best to care for her, with the help of visiting nurses. Her father said at her wedding that his prayers had been answered in the groom. Later, when Katrina confided in him that things were not okay at home, he replied, “You never know what is going on between two people,” and left it at that. Yet her pastor and neighbor took an interest; slowly, they had encouraged her to get connected to the network of people who could help.
But the first two days in the shelter had proved too much. Yes, the shelter was compliant with the Americans with Disabilities Act. There was a shower and bathroom that worked for her. The halls were wide enough. Then handles were low enough. She had come on a weekend, and the weekend was long and lonely and full of fears. She counted the hours until she could get back to the place she knew.
The Carson Domestic Violence Advocate talked to the team. She explained how it takes an average of seven times to leave an abusive relationship before the bond is completely severed or transformed. She listened to their grief and worry over her. She described how important it is to keep the door open, to be the place she can turn to again the next time it gets to be too much. How critical it is not to play into the abusive person’s story that no one can care for her the way he can and that she can only rely on him. The advocate was telling herself this, too. Because even after eleven years of doing this work, it hurt every single time.
“She has her own path,” the Carson domestic violence worker says to herself when she is once again alone in her office. “I release her to her path; I believe she will come when she is ready. I will be here for her.”
Story by JAC Patrissi
