Isolation: Why Abuse Makes Us Feel Alone

Isolation is one of the last areas in our hurting souls to heal after prolonged abuse. I think of it as Frodo syndrome. After returning from his successful quest, he cannot regain his footing in his former life. I notice this in many people who manage to escape a hellish marriage or relationship this same tendency, including myself. The further out I am from my twelve-year first marriage, the more the inner isolation fades, but it still resurfaces.

I will continue with the Frodo parallel, borrowing the story from the Lord of the Rings. Frodo is obviously not a victim of intimate terrorism or even of narcissistic abuse. Still, I can’t help but see Sauron, the great eye (or I), as the ultimate narcissist. The desire for power over others always comes from a place of hatred and entitlement. Humans can get drunk on quite many vices; power is just one of the most seductive and devastating.

So if you are coming out of domestic violence or emotional abuse, Frodo, the ring-bearer, can show you a few things about healing and why it takes so long.

1: Abuse victims must confront malignant evil.

To fully come to terms with one’s situation, the fact that a spouse means vicious harm can be challenging to face. Cognitive dissonance sets in pretty quickly, as does helplessness. Our bodies understand what our minds can’t comprehend; that the person who vowed to love us hates us. Hate seems a weak word. It is a mere emotion. The narcissistic abuser’s goal is to utterly destroy us. To see the face of evil causes inner isolation that never entirely goes away. We know too much about what one human can do to another.

The eye of Mordor is an odd villain in that it lacks a personality. But it is precisely that lack of identity that makes it so horrific. When we get a glimpse behind the narcissistic curtain, the same void resides there. The inexplicable destruction of the holocaust is concentrated into an individual relationship, with the desire of the stronger to eradicate the weaker. Why did anyone want to destroy the Jews? Hatred arises out of the pain of rejection, anger over betrayal, or even fear. The will to annihilate another comes from a place that love has never touched. It is the absence of love, coupled with the will to destroy.

2: Confronting evil comes at a significant cost.

We all know the quote by Edmund Burk: “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” But why do good men do nothing? They are busy counting the cost. I do not know anyone who proceeds with divorcing a narcissist who does not do so at a high personal price. It isn’t the money but the meanness that is, at times, terrifying. My ex brought my diary to court, threatened me with jail, and brought flunkies to falsely testify against me. And I had it easy. I know far too many women who, in fleeing the abuse, lost their children to their abusers.

Frodo bore wounds both physically and spiritually, that though healed, did not completely resolve. I still have moments of anger, grief, and futility, as I watch my daughters battle the anxiety, trauma, and despair that comes from a father who enjoyed their pain. But what brings me some measure of healing is knowing that their lives are not ruined. Healing comes from understanding the cost is well worth the freedom.

3: Isolation is part of the abuse.

My ex-husband brought us out into the deep country of Kentucky. Separating us from friends and family made me much more vulnerable. Frodo had Sam, and thank goodness. He would never have made it. But I had the Holy Spirit who strengthened me from the inside out until I was ready to leave. But for many years, I thought that no one could understand what I had been through. That is part of the lingering isolation of abuse. We are afraid to find out if anybody else knows what it is like.

Interestingly, my blog is a part of my healing process in that area. I get emails from many women and a few men as well. They tell me their stories. Some are out of their prisons, and others are preparing for the great leap. Still others are looking for validation. Can I leave? Will God still love me? These questions leave me sad, but I know that I once asked the same ones. Far too many people are caught in situations beyond their control. But they are not alone. God brought me help, sometimes through direct, miraculous intervention. Reaching out helps quell the loneliness and isolation.

4: Abuse trains us to be silent, keeping us in isolation.

Abuse teaches us that lying or silence will keep us safe. We have to grey rock day in and day out, attempting to avoid the great eye from landing on us. I think of Frodo in the elven cloak hiding on the hillside in Mordor as orc armies passed. That is a picture of the life of an abuse victim. Underneath, Frodo breathed small breaths, trying to avoid any movement or sound. It wasn’t until I saw a counselor that I understood that I had essentially been holding my breath for decades. Whenever an emotion hit, I stopped breathing until it went away. Subconsciously, though free from that marriage, I still believed that to show any feeling meant instant punishment.

What freedom it was to cry in front of my therapist, to breathe through all the anger and grief. But the longer one stays in an abusive system, the longer it can take to break free from the chains of silence. Regaining our voices is crucial to regaining a sense of belonging. Not everyone should hear our story, but somebody should, for our sake, at the very least. Again, this blog has given me a chance to tell my story without having to watch the disbelief or discomfort on someone else’s face. Stories of abuse are unbelievable to those who have not experienced it, another kind of isolation that afflicts victims.

I suppose the last healing task is to learn to be with others, to recapture a sense of belonging. Frodo had to leave his hometown. His friends understood his dilemma, but they had not worn the ring around their necks for so long. We have to fight for our voices to tell our dreadful stories. Our bodies have to relearn affection and ease. Trust will come slowly, as will the belief that we are loved. But they do come. In the end, isolation is just the last chain broken by the reality of love, love from God, from ourselves, and if we are blessed, from others.

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