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Dear Fellow Human

These times are hard for everyone, but even more difficult for a certain group of your fellow humans.

Dear Fellow Human,

Before coronavirus, we saw each other often. You asked me how I was doing and your smile encouraged me.

Now we cannot see each other due to the quarantine and social distancing.

My social contacts have changed and my problems are so much worse.

Many nights I lay in my bed listening to the sound of fighting.

My father drinks too much alcohol, my mother says something to him about anything, he lays into her, and the screaming starts.

She cries, he seethes, and I hold my teddy bear over my head.

During the day, he bruises me.

What hurts most is my insecurity.

The internal brokenness that only an abused human beings experience.

It’s like this: our mental scars cause agony that can a human can perceive only on the inside.

No one sees our injured souls on normal days,

but now no one has a chance to notice them and help us.

For most human beings, staying home right now may just seem like a long break from the daily grind of normal life.

But, for me, it makes me want to die—if my father doesn’t kill me first.

Please help me! If you can, reach out to me through a phone call or an email.

Try to find a private time with me to agree on a code word that means “please call the police to help me.” And keep in touch with me.

Sincerely,

Someone You Know

***

Fortunately, coronavirus didn’t invade our lives

when I was a child many years ago.

Had this have happened,

I would have tried to get this message out somehow, someway.

Now I’m in a safe and loving home. I am warm, dry, and I have plenty to eat and nice clothes to wear.

Even though my circumstances have dramatically changed, my heart cannot forget the abuse I’ve suffered, and I realize that not everyone enjoys living like I do now. And I wonder about my fellow human beings who may be locked behind a closed door with an abuser. How are they doing? Do they need anything at all? Is there any way I can help them?

Although my bruised heart identifies others who’ve experienced abuse, most people don’t recognize them. Most don’t know who these people are because they usually hide their pain from others. They fear that if they spoke up, their abuser would make their lives even worse. I call them and their abusers on the phone and actively listen to what they say. If someone needs food or something else, I do my best to get it and deliver it to them. I look for signs in their eyes when they collect my gifts from their porches that they want additional help.

But I live in one community, and there are abused people who need help in every city in this country—not just mine.

Please call people, listen to them, and provide any offer any help you can provide. I will feel so much better about our current situation if you would do this!