by Priscilla G
I have been addicted to drugs since I was 18, and I moved my way through that life as well as I could until I met him. I went to his house because I knew that he always had drugs and when all of my connections were out, I forced myself to ask him for some even though something told me not to. He told me I could always come to him when I needed anything. My sister (who had young children) got a flat tire and had no money so of course, I called him because he made me feel comfortable enough to call him like that. He came brought a tire and drove off with me still in his truck. Normally when I ask for things I know I could pay back when I got paid. This time he drove up to the middle of the woods in a secluded place, too far for me to walk or even remember where I was going. He said “I gave you a tire, you owe me a blowy” and unzipped his pants. I felt gross after, but he dropped me a bag a pack of cigarettes and beer so who cares right? Some how he still found a way to make me feel cared about or even loved I guess. Our few affairs turned into a full on relationship, but he was married and kept me in his garage. I had to pee in a bucket so his wife didn’t ever see me. He kept me high he kept me fed he kept me showered once a week. Eventually he moved me into a trailer away from my family again in the woods where I didn’t know where I was. Then he started to be slightly mean to me and the kind of woman I am I didn’t take that I jumped out of his truck and walked home. He used my pride to control me. He knew that if he fought with me I would jump out of the truck or he would put me out in locations that were impossible for me to walk. Sometimes I would just walk for days because I didn’t know where I was. Finally I quit going places with him, which is what he wanted- me alone in a trailer for days, in the middle of the woods. I had to pee and poop in a bucket because the septic was full. I bathed in a stream that I also drank from because I was too afraid to leave the trailer. I only had food when he brought me food. He pushed me to the point where I could not stand being abused anymore and I just swung on him I don’t know how many times. He picked up his shoe and hit me in the face as hard as he could and my eye burned! It was instantly swollen shut I screamed for help and no one came. I tried to leave but I turned around I don’t know why. When he moved the trailer closer to where I knew where I was it was still impossible for me to leave because I was always so high and the only entrance and exit was through steep mud. I don’t know how this thought came to my mind, my conscience told me “You feel in love with a married man, and the only way out of this is in the hospital. Just let him hit you this time.” So the next argument he started I straight laid on the ground and said to him “I don’t care what you do anymore I am not going to hit you back go ahead” and he brushed it off. He emotionally abused me all night yelling and screaming. He got mad that I was actually sleeping and he was withdrawing so he dumped a gallon of cold water on me. I knew that if I didn’t do anything I would freeze because it was winter. I took off all my clothes and rolled to the other side of the bed and went back to sleep. The next day he found a fix and smoked in front me threatening me with a wire. I already thought I was dying I guess I was hallucinating but I saw my dad and my first born sister sitting at the table and they kept saying “were staying here were not going anywhere,” I could see their faces and hear their voices. He was still yelling finally I sat up and said “I am not afraid of you” that provoked him it mad him mad and he came at me swinging. I covered my face and I knew that this was it that I just had to let him do what he was going to do people needed to know what kind of person he was people needed to know what was happening to me, I needed a way out of this relationship. Because if I left on my own, he would pay people to tell him where I was or bring me back to him. I yelled “fuck you! Only a bitch hits a bitch, bitch” and he kept punching but since he couldn’t get to my face he elbowed me with all of his weight right in the middle of my chest. But I kept repeating myself so he picked up a window squeegee and smacked me with it so I covered my body with a sheet. But it didn’t stop him from hitting me all down the left side of my body. And when he was done or out of breath I just laid there quietly thinking of what to do next. I though about running to the middle of the road because eventually someone would drive by but I was naked and didn’t want to be found like that. He kept getting me high until he didn’t have any more money and then he dropped me off at a Fred Meyer and told me I needed to go in there and figure out how to get him money or he would do it again. I sat in the bathroom crying looking at all my bruises. Someone asked me if I was okay and I said yes I don’t know why I didn’t ask for help then. I had the idea to go to Liberty tax to apply for an advance and get $50, so I went out to the car and did that. I covered up my bruises and didn’t tell anyone for about a week because I had money, we had drugs and things were good again. But I couldn’t sleep I had a deep pain in my chest and I convinced him to take me to the hospital. The hospital didn’t believe my bullshit story about my bruises so I told them what happened. They took pictures and tried to convince me to talk to the police but I didn’t. They treated me for pneumonia and my abuse but I could still feel his evil. I called my grandmas the only number that wasn’t long distance. They called my dad and he brought me home. It took me a few months to be able to get out of bed but when I did, I walked to an AA meeting. I will have 7 years sober in February and it is so hard for me to be proud of that because it is a constant reminder that I was tortured for three days in order for me to get where I am today.
