First, I'd like to thank you all for being here. This is where you will find a condensed version of the origin story of RYV Apothecary. It has taken me approximately four years to muster the courage to write this for you. For me. This narrative includes sensitive topics, so please take this as a trigger warning for domestic violence, and other forms of abuse. If you become activated in reading of my encounter, I encourage you to step away and nurture your being. For healthy coping skills, please see the page "Coping Skills". 

 

In early January of 2020, I was nearing the end of a 5 month toxic relationship, but I wasn't fully aware of this yet. At least not how it would end or if I'd actually be able to walk away. Things had been rough for awhile, but like most narcissistic abuse cases, I was isolated from friends and family and didn't recognize myself when I looked in the mirror. I was a shell of the vibrant girl I once knew. I felt completely out of control and stuck in a hole with no hope of breaching the surface. I was self-sabotaging, gaslighting myself--anything I could do to avoid the harsh reality. Before I knew it, I was drinking every day, experimenting with drugs to be "cool", to fit in, and to find some semblance of reason for why this was happening. I was in a victim mindset. It wasn't until it was too late, or I felt it was too late, that I realized I was in way over my head. The control I thought I had over myself and the situation was soon proven to be an illusion. When the fear set in, when I came to the point I could verbalize and admit that I was tremendously afraid--afraid of myself and afraid of him--I felt like this persona that had been built over the last 5 months, shattered, in a matter of moments. A veil was lifted. I know now, if it weren't for the unwavering love and support of my mother, I wouldn't have had the courage to see it and to face it. The veil was indeed lifted. I remember the conversation with my mother in December of 2019, when she asked me if this is what I wanted, and I replied, "no". But, I told her I didn't know how to get out. I think a part of me knew I was in danger and the other part still believed that if I loved harder or enough, I could change an inevitable outcome...because I was that powerful. And what a humbling experience it was to learn that I was in fact, the opposite, powerless. Powerless not over myself, but of him. January 2nd into the early morning of January 3rd, he held me against my will in my apartment, which we both resided. I was held for several hours, being intimidated, threatened, beaten, accused, and told I wouldn't see my mother again...I tried every possible way I could think of in the moment to stop the abuse. I plead, I promised, I loved, I lied, I was loud, I was quiet, I was complaint, I was challenging... Again, I didn't understand until much later, it wasn't going to matter how I acted, so even the control I realized I had over myself wasn't enough to sway the situation to a positive outcome. He was done when he decided he was done, or at least until he needed a break. He went out on the porch to look for his phone while I laid on the ground racking my mind for an alternative escape plan, after being punched repeatedly all over my body. My ears were ringing, and my vision was becoming blurry. I still knew there had to be a way out..even if I couldn't see it yet. I felt it. And there was no way I was going to accept never being able to speak to my mother again. Perhaps he was unaware his attempt to dissipate my hope would fail had he included my mother. He must have failed to see how the most hurtful phrase he could have said to me ended up being the motivator that saved my life. I was able to muster the strength to get to the door. Only a thin piece of wood separating me from him. I still don't know how he didn't see me coming, but I no longer care. Two dead bolts on the door. But he was big, and he was angry. The moment I pushed the door closed, I felt resistance. I gave my everything to latch the two deadbolts, to give me more time. Immediately, he began banging and berating...trying to break my will. I ran for the front door, which was locked...and struggled to unlock that deadbolt, as the adrenaline raced through my veins. But I got it. I had to take this moment by moment...I had no other choice, not in my mind. He broke through the door, explosively splintering the door frame, and ran after me. I don't remember how far he followed, I don't remember the rocks piercing my bare feet as I ran as fast and far as I could without looking back. I remember the parking lot blacktop was cold. I made it to a neighbors who was kind enough to open the door to a crazy-looking, young woman, pleading for assistance. The whole time I was running, I kept saying to myself, "you're going to make it, you have to make it, just keep running, don't look back". The first thing I did when I entered my neighbors and they had locked the door, was call my mother. In that moment I felt pure gratitude and love and that outweighed everything that I had just endured. 

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There are so many more details, so many parts of the story I know I need to tell...and plan to. But for the sake of making this as concise of an introduction to my experiences and how they shaped RYV, I will stop here. 

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Now, to share how the aftermath of this night spawned RYV Apothecary: My whole reality had just been shattered. I was confused. I was shameful. I hated myself, but I still loved him. I've always been good at giving others the benefit of the doubt...but never myself. Sound familiar? This experience was the catalyst to my first conscious spiritual awakening. I began to research everything I could about empowerment, faith, religion, abuse, resilience, shame, love, manifestation, and energy. The only thing that made sense to my soul at the time was this resounding truth that we are all connected. And I needed to feel connected. I couldn't focus on how alone I truly felt in a room full of people that loved and supported me. And no matter how much I wished it would, the world didn't stop just because I had experienced trauma. So how do we keep living when we just wish it would stop? Stick around. I didn't know I was about the learn the difference between fitting in and belonging. Although that painful moment was over, I knew I had a lot farther to go, no matter how many things I did after to convince myself otherwise. Eventually, I had to do this really hard thing called, surrender. Ask anyone that loves me, they'll tell you I'm stubborn. Just like my grandfather (RIP). To be honest, I haven't stopped fighting since that night. Fighting for my freedom, for peace, for authentic connection and vulnerability...So RYV was created for anyone and everyone. Because pain is inevitable in the human experience, but we don't have to go it alone. And in moments we are alone or feel alone, we can learn to find solace in our true, authentic selves, given we can surrender and accept that we are nothing but energy in motion. With the potential to love greatly and harm greatly. We all make mistakes and endure things we wish we didn't have to. RYV is a community of like-minded people who strive to remind those of us that try to falter or return to places we have outgrown, that even when we forget, we are still human...we are still capable, and if we choose, we can do great things, from a place love and gratitude. 

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In the spirit of practicing what I preach, I will leave you with that and go practice my own form of healthy self-care. Talk soon. 

 

Happy Healing, 

           Haley