By Anonymous Survivor
**The following is written by a survivor of domestic violence and abuse. Names have been changed to protect all involved.**
I’m the oldest out of 4 daughters and raised in a home where my dad’s beliefs are law. Where the man goes and makes a living to provide for his family. And the wife stays home tending to the kids cooking and cleaning and whatever else she’s expected to do.
We grew up struggling because my dad owned his own little heating and a/c business in Texas. In the late 1980’s until the late 90’s business wasn’t that great. But of course in the summer we never seen my dad but we would have good dinners and we would each get a new pair of flip flops.
I Never Knew Anything Else
I didn’t know any difference as a kid growing up with both parents working. So, I thought it was normal and even though we didn’t have expensive things we had a home full of love. To this day my parents are still happily married recently celebrating 50 years.
Their story was what I wanted my future to become. All in all, I thought it would be that mindset would turn out to be a nightmare I felt trapped in instead of my happily ever after. It would be a life of emotional abuse and neglect.
I was 17 and he was 20 when we met and as soon as I saw him I knew I would love him for the rest of my life. There was a magnetism between us. Electrifying a fated encounter, we both just looked at each other. It was like we knew each other from somewhere long ago and after that night he would end up being my addiction.
“A bond that I didn’t know would be so painful and life shattering.”
After we met, he started calling me a lot. He had a really good job, brand new truck, his parents lived in a nice house, and here I was in second hand clothes. In my family there was only one car. I felt beneath him and ashamed, but he didn’t care he told me he just wanted me.
After 3 months he asked me to marry him after 6 months we move in together. I thought wow my real prince I get to be a princess he has rescued Cinderella. So I hoped.
After we moved in together I started noticing little strange things about what he would say and then do the opposite. Then he started verbally abusing me. Real emotional abuse. I didn’t have a job and he knew how I was raised from the first night we met.
“And didn’t bother him until it did.”
I would have a nice dinner made and have the house all nice and clean. Then he would come in after work and not say one word unless of course I did something wrong. Like fold his socks wrong, or the towels he would be quick to point it out.
Then it went from the household things to me everyday. I would get to hear that I was lazy worthless of I’m not going to get a job. Then I will be his slave I would have to lick the dog crap off his boots if he told me to.
That I was at the lowest priority. The dog came before me.
The Emotional Abuse Continues
Then he started talking about my body one day while grocery shopping. I reach to hold his hand, and he jerks it away from me. Then says how can I hold your hand it would be like holding a brick layers hand. I started to tear up. He looks at me with annoyance and says, “You need thicker skin. Can’t take a joke. Geez, you wear your heart on your sleeve.”
Then I would do something different with my hair, he wouldn’t notice. But he was quick to let me know that he wanted me to dye it red because he loves red heads.
Over the next 2 1/2 years I heard all the verbal abuse. “You’re too fat” now “too skinny”. He would open the front door and immediately ask “What you been doing all day? Sitting on your fat ass, watching Oprah eating bon bons?” Comparing me to Peggy Bundy from Married with Children, then Roseanne Bar.
“I felt disgusting.”
My self confidence was destroyed. My self respect and self worth disappeared. The abuse took it’s toll. I focused all my time trying to be whoever he wanted, just so he would want me. We weren’t even married yet no kids either.
By the time we got married, 3 years after he asked I was 3 months pregnant. I’m 20 he’s 23, I thought once we are married then everything will be as it should. However, it wasn’t.
He made me feel so insecure. I became so suspicious of him cheating because our sex life consisted of once a month and that’s only if he wanted to. I dare not initiate. I learned harsh lessons early on no lingerie and most definitely do not initiate. If I did I would end up on the couch in tears feeling even worse the rejection took such a mental toll.
After our son was born, he started working a lot of hours and started to act really distant. Never helping with the baby at all, stating that’s your job. Then one night he comes home late and I question him he starts going on and on about what he does is none of my business. How he spends his money that he actually works for is none of my business.
Spinning in Jealousy
I go to our bedroom and I see something on the wall out of the corner of my eye and I walk over and it’s a nude girly calendar. I rip it down and he starts freaking out about me being so stupid to be jealous over something like that. Then I say, “Well if you were to ever look at me, or tell me I look nice I wouldn’t be.”
He says that’s never going to happen and you’ll be pissed to know I have porn magazines under the truck seat hidden from you now. I turn slam the door and go to the bathroom feeling very hurt and confused.
I waited until he fell asleep and lay the baby down and I go out to the truck to check if he was telling the truth. He was telling the truth, once in his life, but not only did I find that I felt a box inside the springs in the actual seat itself. I pull it out and my heart sank.
I couldn’t breathe it felt like someone knocked the air out of me. It was a box of condoms and we don’t use condoms. Why would he have those hidden?
“I was in shock.”
Trying to come up with a reason he would have them. Any reason just not the only reason. So I go inside try to stay calm and sit down at the kitchen table. Every degrading horrible thing he had said to me comes flooding in. Every unspoken criticism, every rejection I was thinking maybe it’s because he has someone else.
At 6 am, at least 8 hours after my discovery, he opens the bedroom door comes in the kitchen and says where you been. I look at him, I’m sure crazed, and say sitting right here. He asks why with a sarcastic tone I throw the box at him and say because I’m trying to figure out why my husband would need these when we don’t use them.
Why were they hidden so well? Like a deer caught in headlights before he could open his mouth, I ask again seeing that scramble to come up with any answer. I look in his eyes he then says in a smart ass tone.
“I don’t know I guess the condom store. I don’t have time for this, I have to go to work. You know a job some people actually get up and leave the house for 8 hours or more. A job to make money you should try it sometime.”
“And he walks out the front door and leaves.”
I’m sitting there in shock. Did he really just say that to me and leave? I sat all day with all kinds of thoughts racing through my head and to this day I still don’t have the truth. A year later he brings it up. Claiming he was hiding them for his best friend and promised to never tell anyone.
Now come on I didn’t even entertain that story. The manipulation was his way to abuse me more.
Then the night finally came when I met my breaking point. October 6, 2001, my nieces 1st birthday and a week later our son’s 2nd birthday. We arrive at a really nice park for her birthday party and he decides that staying in the car listening to the OU TEXAS football game was more important.
After the party on the drive home, he tells me that a friend from work the one that live 3 blocks from us was having a couple of guys over for some beer and told me he was going for a few hours. In my head I’m already doubting, but didn’t feel like fighting. So I don’t say anything. He then says oh and no wives or kids allowed.
The Negative Thoughts and Abuse
We get home. He drops us off and he leaves. I call my mom and tell her what was going on she tell me oh you’re worried about nothing you made your bed now lie in it.
So we hang up and the negative thoughts are eating me alive. So I grab my son and tell him we are going on an adventure. I drive 3 blocks over to see what was really going on I park midway up the block get out and tell him to be very quiet we are playing a game.
I pick him up and place my hand over his mouth and as quiet as a mouse I arrive the garage door up. Enough to see feet. Music is playing, and I heard men laughing then a woman. I look and see 3 sets of men boots and 2 sets with sexy high heels.
I hurry away full blown panic attack happening. I get home and trying to be calm and collected for my son sake, I order a pizza and about an hour later he comes in I immediately confront him and he starts blaming me. Calling me names telling me he’s filing for divorce come Monday.
Begging
He can’t stand being with me and he lays back on the bed I’m begging and pleading. I just want you to love me. He says we’ll I don’t know what to tell you, but come Monday morning I’m filling. I turn and walk in the kitchen my sweet son sitting there.
All I can hear is all the horrible things he has said to me everyday. Nothing ever good I go get my purse I just picked up my antidepressants and my sleeping meds. That day I popped the lid off and in one swallow I took 28 Elavil, similar to Valium. In that moment I just wanted silence.
I needed him to stop saying all those mean things to me. End the emotional abuse. Then immediately I look at our son and thought what did I do? I can’t leave him with that monster.
Choosing Something More than Abuse
So I call the Dr on call service and tell her she tells me to go straight to the hospital now or you will die. I go into the bedroom and I say hey. He says what, I then tell him what I did he sits up and says you are so freaking dumb. You deserve to die.
He gets up and says are you going. Then makes me get the diaper bag and carry our son and load him up. The hospital was a good 15 minutes away and the entire way he is poking me in the forehead between the eyes repeating your so freaking stupid. You deserve to die.
We pull up and at this point I’m swaying in out, but not losing my focus. He once again makes me get the baby and bag I go to the sign in desk. Write my information and cause down I sit down holding my son when the nurse comes frantically walking out calling my name.
He sits there in silence, not even looking at me. I look at my son, I hug him and whisper I’m so sorry if I don’t come back. Please know I love you so much. I’m sorry.
“I turn and go through the double doors.”
My son is chasing me crying for me. I get in a room 4 big men, they strap me down and hold me down. Then the nurse puts a tube in my mouth.
The next thing I know, I am waking up a strange woman sits next to my bed. I asked where I am and what day is it she tells me the hospital psychiatric floor 4 days later. That she is with social services trying to find out what happened.
That my husband and mom went to discuss the next course of action for me. As in if they want me to go inpatient, or outpatient. At that moment I thought he would change. Something that big, something so traumatic for everyone. What a miracle I survived.
But no. He just got worse. I stayed in a loveless, lonely marriage had 3 more kids and sacrificed myself trying to fix whatever was broken for 29 years.
I became a slave to him. I have no friends. He turned my sisters against me.
“When all I ever wanted was love.”
But I recently read somewhere that it’s a sick kind of love that the other person feels powerless when someone loves them unconditional. No matter what they do, the person will love them no matter what.
The woman wrote in her blog this quote, I don’t remember word for word, but something like this: “When they feel a deep love, they lose their sense of control. To get that back, they need to attack your love to ensure love doesn’t take them back to that place in early childhood.”
I am sharing my story of abuse to grow stronger.
Check These Resources on Abuse:
- Complete Guide to Mindful Meditation, and Emotional Healing.
- The Hidden Impact of Teen Dating Violence
- Find Support with BTSADV
Support Line
Other Resources and Information for DV and Abuse:
