The Story Behind Ms. Educated Vixen, The Once Derailed Daughter : Guys, before submerging myself into the domain of partying, it was known to my friends that I was totally debilitated by varying forms of abuse in the hands of a Muslim partner. Such destructive relationship consequently destroyed other areas of my life including my corporate career--- imagine me resigning from one corporate job to another ascribed primarily to his irrational jealously. Remember, in one of my posts last year that I also talked about being incessantly haunted by that incident in my own apartment where I was locked up by him for almost a day, I had to beg repeatedly for me to be freed and when he came in--- still in an evident state of aggression, my fragile body was thrown against the wall. I ran to the kitchen. I shrilled for help. His next assault pushed me to the edge of my sanity. He took hold of a kitchen knife and aimed it to my neck, pronouncing diabolically that--- I cant leave him, I cant call the relationship off just because of his difficult ways. And that he has the might and main to take my life right then and there. He even threatened me saying that Muslims do not fear anything, that they are in power and that my family is going to be in a perilous situation once I do not agree with his terms.. I was praying frantically then which distracted him. He stood up, dropping the kitchen knife to the floor. He seemed spaced out which signaled for a chance of escape.I was trying to get up but I realized that I was bleeding; hence, the pain had already set in. The next thing I knew, he was throwing several pieces of glassware at me--- while cursing me. I didnt know how many shattered pieces wounded my body while shielding my face, he only ceased when he saw me in a daze--- almost unconscious. As this may have everyone in surprise, I still considered giving him another chance--- I apparently survived. His abusive ways escalated that my dad had to step in. Papa flew all the way from Guam--- also in time for the holidays. It was also clear to me why he--- Papa had to take away the privileges that he was providing me with. Whose father would be pleased knowing that her daughter could not let herself be detached from her abusive partner? Nevertheless, Papa still extended his love for his princess. I went home to my family. I made myself helpless, still. I only envisioned him, my Muslim partner. I didnt even think of my own kid. Worse was, I lost my self-esteem then my self-concept. I was in vacuum then came the result of my check-up with my ob-gyne. I was pregnant. Papa assured me that they--- Mama and him, are to take my kid as theirs like what they did to Von (my 1st child); nonetheless, I should cut off ties with my Muslim partner--- my Papas condition. I still chose to see my abusive partner and divulged to him that I was expecting. He was quite uncertain if he could take the responsibility and feared that his mom may disown him for his Muslim mom would only want a girl having the same Islamic vows. I was too despondent then. I was too distressed. Day after day, I would see spotting on my underwear. The subsequent visits to my doctor alarmed me--- the child was developing atypically. My mind was so clouded with thoughts. I finally decided for myself--- I was left with no choice but to have my offspring be removed, otherwise I would be at risk. After that heartbreaking incident, my partner visited me in the hospital and I made the most impulsive decision which was so agonizing on the part of my parents. Papa and Mama went to the hospital to bring me home as it was the day of my discharge. Papa was taken aback when he saw my partner there. Papa was in silence. When we reached home, Papa asked me where I would spend Christmas and New Year. Papa even reminded me that the date then was December 24. Driven blindly by my emotions, I told Papa that I would join my partner instead. I saw the remarkable pain on Papas face; it was as if saying--- how heartbreaking it is to see my daughter go astray and fall apart as she is deluded by that disordered love. Before I left the house, Papa even asked me if I have money for me to get by. I told him that I still got some from the allowance that he was still giving me--- even though, my bi-weekly allowance was decreased and as stated earlier, Papa took some of my privileges as his unica ija--- my apartment, the salaried person in charge of my laundry, the cooking of my food, and the likes. Papa handed me a considerable amount of money which translated to me as--- it was the only way that he could access his derailed daughter. From then onwards my parents didnt meddle with my situation anymore for I opted to be with my partner. And I found myself in another year of abuse, frustrated from my intervening efforts to help my partner address his emotional disturbances. The latter part of 2012 led me to a turning-point. It was initially with finding out that my partner was suffering from anxiety disorder--- which I already speculated in him, since being oriented by my course. As revengeful as it may sound, I capitalized upon his mental illness for me to be free from the hell that I subjected myself into. I managed to turn things around but in the process, I also became a monster. This acquired power could also be attributed to me living not on my own anymore--- my brother took me in. I waged war versus the demons of his mind. I was mindful of every mental torture that I gave him. Until, he couldnt take my monstrosity. He was hospitalized twice for anxiety attacks; he was advised then to see a psychiatrist. I took this opportunity to hide from him but he wouldnt stop for months. Until my prayers were answered but was I still breathing? Did I still have a life to get back to? I lost my friends because he wouldnt let me interact with the outside realm. I wouldnt want to burden my parents any further and I knew so well that my brother was already being affected by my adversities--- he saw how wretched I was. I began going out with some friends who remained by my side, drinking crazily almost on a nightly basis as I was directed to nothing. I couldnt go back on my feet yet that I told myself that I would be back in the office once I could focus already. The nightlife struck me as an avenue for me to assume a different character since noticing everyone was just like me, a soul looking for an escape, a soul putting a mask on in the midst of being lost. Moreover, I exploited the idea of peoples attention as a substitute for my lack of self-worth. There in the party scene, I groped for my own worth through the deceit, the play, the addiction, the loud music, and the same souls in distress. I was out of control until the my pictures while wildly partying were uploaded on the internet. People disparaged me, calling me derogatory names. I responded in defense of my stance. I couldnt let another incident of being defenselessness, feeling of inferiority--- not again. My narcissism took its toll on me that I lost sight of my deferred dreams. I utilized my narcissim to create a very different character from my former self. I looked at myself in the mirror as I belittle my own self, speaking angrily--- So, this wild partying, made you a better person, huh? So, this made you known to people? Is this the right way to redeem your life, Nikki? The once editor-in-chief of her HS paper, the once deans lister, the once debater, and the once recognized for her literary compositions in school? Where is that old Nikki? Is this the Nikki now that you are protesting for and professing to be--- the one dancing drunk on the ledge, the one luring guys around with skimpy clothes, and with that red lipstick on as a trademark? I thought you wanted to be known for your intellectual prowess? Where the hell is that old Nikki? Do you even know who you are now? And I cried in anguish for I fed my narcissism--- in desperation that I could salvage love or any form of love from the outside world, not knowing that I was too enraged about myself. I hadnt forgiven myself that instead of loving myself I was self destructing. That was what when, I sought for Yahweh again. I genuflected down on my knees for forgiveness. I communicated and surrendered to Him all that I was, all that I had been, and all that I will be. As if the following day summoned me to life, as if the following morning baptized me to a rebirth... I went home again to my family. To date, I am preoccupied with motherly responsibilities and duties as I am rekindling my relationship with Mama--- I keep Papa posted via phone calls, chats, and Skype. I am still a work in progress, a soul still being healed from all the tribulations of the past but I am a more enriched soul now. I had to be pained upon to see the beauty of my own worth, my own being. Borrowing the inspirational line from a book, God never wastes anything in our lives., I have started making sense of my agony in rebuilding myself. And as I dropped the disordered identity of Ms. Educated Vixen, Nikki is back, rewriting her life.
Posted on: Thu, 15 May 2014 19:58:40 +0000
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