Damaged by Elizabeth McMahen

him but I wanted to do this alone. I had to prove to myself that I could do this. I needed to be strong again. I tried not to think about how he felt when my sobbing face had been blasted in every newspaper, magazine and television. He’d tried to contact me several times but I ignored him. I wasn’t sure what he thought of that but I knew that seeing him would break me. I was hanging on by a thread and the slightest bit of additional pressure would make me fall apart. Jackson was the light at the end of the tunnel for me. I made him my goal. At the end of this we would have a chance to explore what a relationship would be like. Even if it didn’t work out, I would have that time to think of when I needed a reminder that I was a sexual being capable of more than just going through the motions.
     
    I’d had a little more time to come to grips with everything but that didn’t make it any easier. Some days it was all I could do to get dressed and other days I was fine. I never knew when something would hit me and cause me to break down. I felt like someone died. I was in mourning and it was hard to deal with the aftermath. I didn’t know that it would be this hard. I thought that all I needed to do was get Brett in jail and everything would be fine. It’s not fine though. The defense keeps finding people to alibi Brett and lie for him. I worry about someone coming after me when I walk around downtown. Some people treat me like public enemy number one and some people treat me like I’m fragile and in need of help for the simplest things.
     
    Everyday, despite my begging, the sun rose and the world still turned. I wished that I could take a break. I needed rest and peace, but it never came. I dug deep and searched hard inside myself for the will to keep going. I’d let myself wallow a little too long. I needed to find the strength to do battle again. It wasn’t enough anymore to just do things by half. I needed to throw myself into this fight or there was  a good chance I would lose.
     
    I couldn’t do the investigating but I could do a little research through Brett’s things and the calender we kept. If I could help catch some of the lies it would make the defense look desperate. I searched through my phone’s memory and thanked the phone gods that there were so many messages stored. It took a while to dig through it all but I found a few things that could help. I set out to the police station with a new sense of purpose and determination. I was doing this for myself. I was doing this to show other women that strength was a good thing. I was doing this because someone out there needed to see that it was possible to win against someone so determined to beat you down.
     
    I wanted to set a new goal. I was going to help other women out there who were still going through what I did. I wanted to be an advocate for the belittled and downtrodden. I wanted something to look forward to. I was ready to have a purpose again. From now on, my life isn’t just about taking down Brett, it’s also about taking down other men just like him. I had a degree in psychology and I was going to use it, dammit! I was not the little wifey anymore. No more pearls, and skirt suits. It was time to put on the fucking pants and take out the trash of the world.
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Ten
     
    In my spare time I started working for a women’s center. I counseled women who were in abusive relationships and had run away. I talked to mothers, daughter’s, nieces, and grandmother’s. There were so many women who just needed someone to talk to. They needed someone to tell them that it was OK to get help. It was OK to get away from a bad situation. I felt so bad for the one’s who were left with nothing when they left husbands who abused them.
     
    I was lucky enough to have my own money that I’d inherited from my parents. It was tragic to go through their loss as a teenager in college but it meant I wasn’t desperate and I could be my