Bruised & Battered: Volume 1: Beauty & The Beatings

By S.L. Cook

Domestic violence, mental health issues, addiction, and suicide rob millions of people of their lives each year. SL Cook believes that by talking about these issues, the taboo is removed and healing can begin. This inspiring and empowering book is about her abusive marriage, the poor choices she made, the victory of finally leaving that destruct

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palmetto Publishing
• Release date: Jul 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9781638370819

S.L. Cook

S.L. Cook hopes to educate others by sharing her own life experiences dealing with tough topics such as domestic violence, mental health issues, addiction, and suicide. She is an activist who aims to inspire others through her writing, outreach, and community involvement. She is an advocate, giving a voice to those who can't find theirs or may have lost it all together.

Book preview

Prologue

T

he accounts you are about to read are taken directly from the archives of my mind and pieced together from the various journals I’ve kept over the years. Some details I remember granularly, others barely at all. I should warn you, there is mention of rape, guns, child abuse, and extreme domestic violence. But I should also tell you that if you are going through this or have gone through this, you really should try to power through the accounts of violence and get to the part where I recover! Why? Because in doing so, you, too, are recovering. These tragedies we hold in the front of our hearts are what give us our strength. They are the very things from which we evolve. We may not know one another, but please believe me when I say, I pray for you daily. As survivors, we are a part of a sorority. When you feel weak, scared, and alone, I will be here holding you up in prayer and light. If you have read this far, thank you and congratulations. You are one step closer to taking back your power!

The Beginning

I

am the oldest of four children and grew up in a ridiculously small town in Ohio…population 200. And before you ask, no, I did not forget a zero behind that number. The community I am from is a small (clearly), family-oriented, agricultural community. Generations of families work the same plots of land year after year. I attended the same high school as my parents did and would eventually send my own children there as well. At an early age, I established myself as a very independent (my teachers called it bossy—whatever, tuh-mae-to, tuh-mah-toe) young lady. I had no issues leading on the playground, in the classroom, or in my Bluebirds group.

I was, and still very much am, a girly girl, feminine in every sense of the word. Growing up with a mom who sold Avon as well as being the first grandchild to both sets of grandparents, there really wasn’t much I wanted that I didn’t get. Every new baby doll, perfume, pendant, Barbie accessory, and fashion trend there was, I was most definitely sure to receive it for my birthday, Christmas, or any other gift-giving occasion. This fed my inner diva and by the age of 12, I was well on my way to being far too fabulous for my small-town roots. I dreamt of the city, Chicago specifically. I was 15 when I visited for the first time and I fell in love! There were so many people and all of them were so different than me and anyone I knew. The diversity had me completely awestruck. Over the course of the next several years, I visited the city several more times and decided firmly that, that would be my location as soon as I was 18 and off to college. I would marry a handsome, educated man. We would live in a high-rise condo and host cocktail parties. I had not planned out what we would do to afford the lavish life I had planned for us, but at that point in time, the significance of this detail was lost on me. My overly romanticized, fairytale view of the world has always been my downfall.

In addition to planning my new fabulous city life, while I was in high school, I stayed social. I attended every home basketball game with my best friend, was active in my church youth group, loved participating in my school's musical productions, got good grades, volunteered as a candy striper at the community hospital, played softball, and did all I could to make my parents and grandparents proud.

Then, in August of 1991, I packed up a U-Haul trailer attached to my parent's station wagon and headed to Southern Ohio for my freshman year of college. My Chicago dream was put on hold because out-of-state tuition wasn’t something my family could afford. That was okay though, because even though I was still in Ohio, I was four hours away from the small town I felt I had outgrown. Oh, the naivety of youth.

I adjusted well to my new scene. I have always been outgoing and bubbly, so meeting people had never been an issue for me. Within a few days, I