The Prison of Abuse
It’s hard to understand why people stay in abusive relationships. Friends and family on the outside can tell something is wrong: maybe you make sarcastic or cynical remarks that are out of character; or you get tense when your partner appears but you fawn over them inexplicably nonetheless; you don’t laugh like you used to, and it’s like the life is leaking out of you; your sense of self is…gone. In other words, you are no longer you.
The first question people usually ask is, “What’s wrong with [insert name here]? They didn’t used to be like that.” And if and when they learn the truth about the abuse – whether through direct observation or through social connections – the next question is always, “Why don’t they leave?”
That’s a very complicated question, and each person has their own unique answer. Often it’s some flavor of financial necessity, social expectations, lack of an executable way out, fear. Fear is a particularly accurate word to use, as it’s an Alarm Emotion, the one that calls into question your very existence. And fear describes how every victim of abuse feels deep down:
“I will die if I leave my situation.”
As I was leaving my own abusive relationship, I likened it to The Shawshank Redemption. (For anyone who hasn’t seen it, **spoiler alert**, I’ll be referencing a lot of features of the movie. It’s still one of the best movies ever made so I won’t be offended if you set aside this blog for two hours to go and watch it. We’ll wait.)
Imagine you’re in the prison of your relationship. For a lot of people it feels like the prison was built around them instead of them being sentenced there for a crime; others have the misfortune of being born in prison. Regardless of how you got there, there you are. At first it’s disorienting because you don’t really understand the rules of the environment, but eventually you learn how to keep yourself out of trouble. Sometimes this means commiserating with friends in the same situation, or having to suck up to the warden and the guards. Sometimes you just have to take a beating through no fault of your own, but life goes on.
You have a job in prison, like doing the laundry, and your reward for doing a good job is not being punished. One day, one of the guards discovers you have a specialized skill: before you were in prison, you worked as an accountant and you know tax law like the back of your hand. So instead of doing the laundry during tax season, you’re filing taxes for the prison guards, who are then much nicer to you. The warden takes notice so now you’re doing his taxes too, and then he’s monetizing your skills by selling your services to people on the outside. Your reward: you don’t have to do the laundry anymore. If you protest your situation at all, however, the warden will throw you in the hole.
Every now and again, there are bright spots in prison, like the time you got to drink beers on the roof with your buddies during sunset. You even got to build a library for the other inmates at the prison. But in general, your quality of life is pretty lousy. You’re alive, but you’re still in prison.
After years of this existence, you wonder, “Is prison really that bad? Remember my friend who was paroled and went into the real world? He hated it so much that he committed a crime just to be back on the inside!” Being on the inside is predictable, you know the rules of this game, and the outside world is foreign and scary and everyone thinks you're strange. Sometimes you remember what life was like before you found yourself in prison, that it was good and you were happy. Then you remember the inmate who tried to escape and got shot in the back by the guards…
So let me ask you: do you stay in prison – where you know you’ll stay alive – and make the best of it? Or do you make a break for it and potentially die trying to escape? Or maybe you make it to the outside but you’re not equipped to survive in the world and you die trying? And by the way, if you don’t manage to take your buddies with you, the warden’s going to flog them because of their association with you.
Eventually, I decided to make a run for it and break out of prison. But here’s the craziest thing: I didn’t even realize I should try until someone on the outside said to me, “Hey, the warden is really awful to you. You are a slave to his bidding and he’s reaping the rewards of all your hard work. He’s taking that money you earned and blowing it on expensive vacations with his girlfriends!” (Okay, that last part didn’t happen in Shawshank.) “You need to break free!”
At first my reaction was, “But I’m alive. I have food and clothing and shelter and I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be grateful for those things. The warden only throws me in the hole every few months, but that’s not too bad; I’ve made it out alive every single time! And I don’t think he really wanted to throw me in the hole. He even makes it up to me by bringing me special treats from the outside. Really, he’s not that bad.” Yikes.
I know how delusional this all sounds, but yeah, I justified staying in the prison of an abusive relationship for a couple of reasons: first, a warden who threatened to punish me and those I loved most dearly if I tried to escape; and second, because of the fear of dying once I got outside of that prison. Actually dying, not being able to continue to live. Despite having awesome professional skills that the warden had been capitalizing on for his own gain for years.
And just like Shawshank, the escape was harrowing. I felt every single inch of the 500 yard sewage pipe I had to wade through to get out (and in a lot of ways, I’m still covered in poo and dealing with the mess). Getting out was crazy hard, and now that I’m on the outside, I still wonder if I can make it in the long run, if I will be able to survive.
Like most situations, it’s obvious to onlookers what the person on the inside should do. To the person on the inside, it’s far more complicated. It takes a lot of courage and planning and stamina and resolve to make a break for it. Most likely, the jail warden will come after you and make you suffer. But on the outside, people will recognize that you were wrongly imprisoned and it’s the warden who is the real criminal.
Hopefully this blog helps you realize the signs that someone is building those prison walls around you. Or if you’re already in prison, this blog can help you plan an escape route. And if you’re already on the outside, we want to support your reacclimation to the real world, too. Because no one deserves to be in prison, especially when they haven’t committed any crime.
