Shaken:A Story of Emotional Abuse and Depression
by Kerry Louise Connelly
Kerry Connelly is an English born Australian author.
A naturally gifted writer, Kerry found her way back to the love of writing after having worked in radio, retail management and casual journalism.
Her first title ‘Observation City’ was published in February 2013 and is a relatable and humourous book on life and human behaviour.
Having had anxieties since childhood, Kerry has always been a firm believer in the importance, understanding and support of those with vairying forms of mental illness.
Her upcoming title ‘Shaken: A story of emotional abuse and depression’ is inspired by her own story with the topics and serves not only as an inspiring read, but as a self help book of sorts for those who may find themselves in the midst and confusion of an emotionally abusive situation, or the loneliness of depression.
Enjoying dual roles as an author and education assistant, another of Kerry’s passions lies in the teaching, compassion, understanding and support of early education primary school students.
Being an avid reader and also having studied film and television in her career, Kerry is a big movie buff, a lover of classics, musicals and dramas especially. She also loves to enjoy a well crafted television show and reading non-fiction and memoirs.
Publisher: Self-Published at CreateSpace
Release Date: November 2013
Inspired by her own experiences, Kerry Connelly bravely takes us on a journey into the loneliness and despair of depression while in the midst of an emotionally abusive relationship.
Having had anxieties since childhood, nothing was to prepare her for the violent convulsions and hours of un-controllable sobbing that had started to take over her life, as the stress and trauma of psychological abuse manifested itself in the form of major depressive disorder, sever panic disorder and anxiety with ocd.
Shaken is the story of one woman’s journey with deteriorating mental health while under the control of an emotional abuser. It serves to acknowledge that any form of psychological abuse at any severity is unacceptable and shows just how quickly the trauma of such can give birth to a variety of mental health issues.
Separated by sections ofcomprehensive referenceandchecklist materialto inform readers about the signs of emotional abuse and depression, as well as sections ofadvice and help for friends as well as sufferers,Shaken digs deep into the heart of a woman who hopes to dispel the ignorance and lack of understanding regarding both issues by using her own experiences as an example.
A stark, honest and well written read from the pen of an emotional abuse survivor.
“The Worst Ride”
‘Click’, went my seatbelt as I buckled up for an hour’s long journey to take a new kitchen appliance to an aging relative of his who lived outside of the city. I moulded myself into the squishy grey car seat and prepared to try and enjoy the long ride.
The weather outside was lovely. The sun and the clouds seemed to play with each other the way a new mother entertains her child. Bursts of light sparked through the marshmallow clouds to signify a beautiful day.
I had always been a lover of music. Melodies and lyrics would run through my being, taking me far away and instantly turning me into a devil-may-care rock star, a 1940’s songstress, or a midnight blues jazz singer. I loved music with a passion and actually relished the chance of an hour with the car stereo, even if it were alongside of him.
As if a breaking news story interrupted the radio channel, he began to tell tales of his brilliance and of just how macho and wonderful he was. It was a story from yesterday’s news. A story I had no interest in hearing again for the umpteenth or so time. It put a quick and firm stop to the enjoyment I had been having, by singing my part along with the radio, much to the glee of the passers-by.
Nodding my head so not to insult him, I switched my gaze between the car window and him. I just wanted to relax and tune out to everything but the radio. It was something that I so desperately needed to do. When his persistence of my acknowledgment became clear, I nodded with the phrase ‘I know’. Knowing his story may have been one thing, but as a lecturer would tell off a student, he demanded I repeat his story back to him, word…by…miserable…word. The sun withdrew its friendship from the clouds and disappeared beyond the rainbow. Uneasiness and depression set in. I heard the radio announcer jeer at me for being a selfish, loud mouthed bitch. Why did I have to say ‘I know’, when it was apparent that I didn’t know a thing.
‘Go on then, tell me what you know….Nooo come on! If you think you’re so smart, repeat it back to me! NO…repeat it back to me…exactly!’
Not having a hundred and one percent recall button attached to the side of my skull, I struggled to reach for the exact words of the story I had heard time and time again. I wanted nothing more than to look out the window and pretend I wasn’t confined in a car which was hurling itself down the highway.
After the onslaught of self-centred, rude, and selfish, I dared to say ‘Please. Please can we just be quiet and listen to the radio?’ I felt tired and deflated thinking to myself, thatthis is my life, and here we go again.
He repeated that I was selfish for not listening to him and that was rude for not wanting to hear the story. I was called selfish so many times while I was with him, that the complex still shadows me daily.
Then… he screamed.
He screamed the most startling, unnerving scream I had ever been witness to in my life. The loudest scream that I won’t ever forget. A scream so loud and frightening I retreated into my despair.