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Never Again

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Never Again

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In all abusive relationships, it’s about manipulation & control. It doesn’t always start out that way.

*Trigger Warning*

This post is really long & about my experience with Domestic Violence, abuse & animal cruelty. It may be distressing to someone who has experienced these things hence the trigger warning if you choose to read this.

I’m breaking my silence & telling my truth about my relationship with my ex wife. This will be the only post I make about it. After this, I will not post or speak of her again as it doesn’t help my healing process or self care. I also want to say from this moment forward, I don’t even want to hear about the awful things being posted or said about me because that doesn’t help with healing & moving forward either.

I had disassociated for years & been silent about the things I went through. After a recent event involving my ex wife (which I’m not going into details) a lot of my memories came flooding back. That relationship caused me some PTSD & Anxiety.

I left a very dangerous & DV relationship March 5, 2022. It was years of verbal, emotional & psychological abuse that turned physical at times.

I left after nearly being choked to death. I still tried to make a friendship work with her because I loved her. (Yes, even after the choking.) I loved the good times. I thought if we were separated, that things would get better for a friendship. That was not the case.

In all abusive relationships, it’s about manipulation & control. It doesn’t always start out that way. It’s a slow process of a lot of grooming & love bombing that turns into silent treatment, belittling, berating, isolating, triangulating, gaslighting, name calling, hoovering, lying, controlling, manipulation, aggression, threatening, yelling, hostility, anger & pure rage. It’s a repetitive cycle & I experienced all of this & more.

My reacting to the abuse was just that, reacting. Which is something I’m working on now, how to respond instead of react to awful situations. I was videotaped reacting countless times. She would turn the camera off to continue provoking me. The time she choked me, I was only able to get her off of me by punching her. She took pictures of the bruises for “proof.”
I went into this relationship completely naive about relationships & especially naive about abusive relationships & DV.

This was the first long term relationship I ever had with a woman. I believed the stories she would tell me about how everyone in her life (family, friends & exes) all abused her, caused her harm, all exes cheated, everyone else was always to blame, etc. I could go on but you get the drift. I believed this because she seemed so innocent, sweet, loving & I thought, “I’m not like that, she’ll be safe with me & my family/friends.”
I was very naive to think that way.

She now tells people that I am one of those “crazy, abusive, cheating exes”.  All I can say is in retrospect, the things said to me in the beginning were huge red flags that I completely ignored. And during that time, I lacked some serious boundaries. These things happened to me but I’m working through it. I could write a novel on everything that happened & I have a lot of journal entries of what happened because I was constantly told that the things said or done didn’t happen, that I was delusional or crazy. (Gaslighting).

I want to apologize to anyone who still sees these things that she posts about me & my family. It’s all part of the smear campaign she’s created since I’ve been no contact. She actually started a smear campaign early in our relationship about me to her family & friends & would say the most horrendous things about me. A lot of it was distorted truth or downright lies, that I’ve spent a lot of my time & energy wondering why anyone would choose to say those things or behave like that. I’ve decided to no longer waste my time or energy trying to figure it out & move on.
I was ready to file for divorce in early September 2022 but then her mother passed away. I decided not to file & to be there for her because that’s what friends do, support each other.

I stopped talking to her on October 2, 2022, after being verbally assaulted. (It was the worst thing she’s ever said to me & doesn’t need repeating)

I filed for divorce on October 14, 2022 after another verbally assaultive situation. I experienced a range of emotions about it but decided it was for the best. That’s also when I blocked her on all social media.

On October 15, 2022, She texted me to tell me her dog died & I texted my sympathies.

The only thing I’m going to say about that is she was handed the rat poison & told many times to not let the dog get to it. This was on September 26, 2022. The dog ingested the poison on October 7, 2022 & again on October 15, 2022 & passed away. Rat poison was not laid out from the landlord & there is a lot of messages from her stating she “took care of the mouse problem & the landlord was not aloud over there.” The poison was handed to her. I was also sent horrific videos of the dog dying (without consent), which was very disturbing & I will never be able to get those images out of my head.

I decided from then on that I was going no contact, not only for my safety & sanity but to move on with my life. She tried texting me several times during my no contact period, saying some very vile & untrue things to try to get a reaction out if me. It didn’t work. (I’ll be completely honest & Most of the residual romantic feelings I had for her “died” the day the dog died.)
On January 3, 2023, I was granted my divorce.
My cat passed away January 4, 2023. His passing was such a huge loss to me. I’m still grieving & mourning his death.

On January 6, 2023, she sent me the nastiest texts about My cat dying& I broke no contact to send a courtesy message, nothing more. After another nasty message from her, I told her to lose my number & that’s when I decided to block her phone.

No contact started again that day, January 6, 2023. “No contact is a boundary that is set with a toxic person to end the relationship & to protect someone from further abuse & manipulation. No contact is not a form of manipulation & is not abuse. It’s not meant to be temporary. It’s a definite end to the relationship.”
All of this happened to me. It’s a painful part of my story but I’m safe now, happy to be moving forward, processing & working through this in therapy. I also know there can be retaliation from opening up like this & sharing my truth. I’m taking all necessary precautions to ensure my safety.

I’m making this post to share my story, break my silence, bring awareness to verbal & emotional abuse & show that domestic violence is very real & can happen to anyone, gay or straight. Maybe sharing my story, my experience can help someone who is experiencing the same thing & maybe even give them the courage to leave like I did.

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I was a scared teenager

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I was a scared teenager

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he shot up my house and held a gun to my head and told me he was going to kill me

it all started when i was a freshman in high school, i had to do drivers ed a week before school started and that’s where i met him instantly we connected he was so sweet and so nice, when we would be leaving drivers ed he would wait outside with me until my mom got there to get me, then one day he asked me for my snapchat and i gave it to him, that was the worst mistake of my life.

we started texting and talking all the time when school started he would walk me to my classes and just treated me amazing, one sigh i wish i would’ve realized sooner is he was love bombing me 2 weeks into knowing him but i would just tell my friends “that’s good he cares about me”. everything was good until he saw me talking to one of my guy friends in the hallway he didn’t talk to me rest of that day and ignored me, it upset me that night at 11 he texted me wanting to know who he was and everything about him i thought things it get better after that but no they got worse.

i thought i was inlove with him a month into dating, because he love bombed me that hard and just said and did all the right things to make me fall for him. then one day it just stopped it started by him not letting me talk to my guy friends at school anymore if i saw them i had to ignore them, he would tell me what i could and couldn’t wear, told me who i could and couldn’t hang out with, had to tell him when i was leaving my house, made me call him when i would talk to my parents so he could listen to our conversation and so much more. my friends started questioning my behavior because i was always down and never talked anymore the only person i would talk to is my boyfriend.

as time went on more people started to notice my family, my friends, hell people i didn’t even know we’re messaging me asking if i was ok. i always told me yes because i didn’t want them to worry about me, me knowing that if i didn’t get help i was going to be stuck in this i was to scared to say something because my bf would always get mad when i did he started off by just yelling at me and we would scream in each others face until we couldn’t breath, then he would throw stuff at me, he would take my phone and threaten to smash it. then one night came and i made him mad because i didn’t want to have sex and he held me down and forced himself on me. the abuse just got worse from there i would have bruises all over my body that makeup couldn’t cover, i would have to always wear hoodies and sweat pants, i was scared i didn’t know what to do.

when i finally knew i needed to leave or he was going to kill me was when he shot up my house and held a gun to my head and told me he was going to kill me, after he left i decided i needed to leave, i told my family everything he did to me and they helped me leave. i ended up getting and restraining order on him for my safety cause he would always text me on different numbers saying he was going to kill me and my family and burn down my house with me in it. teen moms if you are reading this please check up on your daughters that are in relationships abuse can be right there and you not even notice it, keep in mind abusive comes in many ways then just one. if your struggling with this kind of situation you need to leave yes it will be hard but your safety is more important then anything.

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Never Again

Trigger Warning This story may contain descriptions of physical and...

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It Never Stopped

It Never Stopped

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I thought it was supposed to be like this, I thought it was supposed to be consistent arguing, consistent pain, never happy.

I was 15, I was moving to a new town, I didn’t wanna be that new kid that came in halfway through the semester. I found him. I had just had my heart “broken” for the first time, consistently cheated on, I was young. I didn’t know love was supposed to pain free, I thought it was supposed to be like this, I thought it was supposed to be consistent arguing, consistent pain, never happy. I was never taught better.

I was 15. He was 18, he was the popular wrestler, his dad worked at the school, his whole family was loved, the “it” family of our school – community. I was 15. The relationship started out good, he showed me loved, he enjoyed my body when I felt like no one else would, so I thought. The arguments started to arise over me not skipping school, me not smoking with him, me wanting time without every friend we had around, because I didn’t want him accepting nudes from other girls, and so on and so on. The first time I looked at his phone, other girls after other girls after other girls, I asked him about, he said he was just being friendly, he said that I was dramatic, he said that he only wanted friends, he said that if I had an issue I could leave. I had no one, everyone I knew was in a totally different state. I was 15. He made me believe that it was him or nothing. All the friends I made, were through him in one way or another.

He isolated me, he told me so often that my friends in another state would just abandon me so I instead abandoned me before I could feel the pain of abandonment from them. The first argument we had in person, he said he could kill me if he wanted to, that he could and would seriously f— me up if I continued. I thought he was just mad at me, I was only 15. 16 comes along, I’m in my junior year of high-school, I felt so isolated from everyone that I’d never go to school, I’d skip to hangout with him. I dropped out. I instead decided to get my GED and that we would move in together.

He faked it so well, my parents, my ex-cop dad and my previously in a abusive relationship mom, both did not think he could ever hurt me, damage me in the ways he did. We rented a camper, moved it onto my parents property, things were okay, we lived together, I was away from my parents, he was away from his, we were “adults”. I was 16.

His drug abuse increased, anything he could get his hands on, any alcohol, any pills, anything. I felt like I had to supply, steal my parents pain killers, go broke, consistently work crazy jobs and keep an flow of money coming in to help him, because he couldn’t “handle life” without them. I’d be hungry. I was only 16. I was alone. The first time he ever hit me, he was drinking with my friend, I drove them to get weed, once we got back to my friend’s place he jumped out the car so I went to get him, he fell into a ditch, I was trying to help him up, he wanted to stay there, I just tried to help, instead I ended up under him, him pulling my hair, him putting me in a choke hold and threatening that if I ever did that again, it’d just be worse. If I ever helped again. I was only 16.

The second time he hit me was in the car, driving, we argued, I said something that he didn’t like, he slammed my head into the window until there was blood. He then drove erratically, making a turn too late and almost hitting a steam roller into my side of the car. I wish that would’ve happened then. I wish it ever so perfectly that I wasn’t in that car anymore.

The next time I was hiding in our bathroom after an argument to try to settle down before even trying to speak any, he came in anyways, with a belt, repeatedly hitting me in the head with the buckle until it was covered with chunks of skin and blood. I was too depressed to even get out of bed most days let alone fight back, I let it happen. If I fought back it only would’ve gotten worse. The times like this proceeded where he’d get drunk or high and become out of control, hitting me, bruising me, raping me to the point of becoming unconscious. The first time he raped me I had taken some edibles, I was just trying to sleep, instead he was on top of me, me telling him to stop, me begging him to stop, instead I was met with “I liked it anyways”. I was too messed up to say no, that he was my boyfriend I had to let it happen. I couldn’t fight back. I just laid there, tears rolling down my face, blankly staring at the wall until it stopped, falling in and out of sleep until it started to hurt again. Every time after that he wanted anything I just laid there, I just let him do whatever because if I didn’t want it, I’d just be made to it anyways, but he’d be mad, so it’d hurt instead. I was only 16.

During these times I wrote more suicide notes than I could ever count or even remember, I wanted to be off this earth so bad but I knew that I couldn’t leave my family blaming themselves for not seeing, for not recognizing the signs. They’d always joke oh you’re not hitting her right, when they’d see the bruises, it was laughed off as I slowly started to cover myself more and more. The night that did the most damage, I was drunk, to the point of barely even able to stand. I just tried to go to sleep, I told him no. Instead of just having his way with me, he’d pick me up and throw me out the door, onto cement blocks, I’d crawl inside begging to go to sleep, he’d throw me again. At one point I could hear my mom letting her dogs out as I laid there behind the blocks, all I wanted to do was screaming for my mom to help, I just couldn’t get the words out, I just couldn’t. I laid there until she went back in and then tried to crawl back in again, covered in blood and mud, instead it repeatedly happened. I gave up. I passed out outside, wet and cold, in my own blood and tears. I woke up before the sunrise, snuck in and showered and made myself presentable with hoodies, pants, and socks. to cover every inch he hurt, if it wasn’t covered with clothes, I’d color correct, I’d put concealer and foundation down to my shoulder blades so they couldn’t see the bruises from his fingers from where he’d strangle me the nights before, I’d make it to where it was invisible with makeup or it looked like a scratch a cat could’ve done or a bruise where I could’ve easily blamed it on hitting my head on a bunk we had.

There were also other people who’d satisfy him, I was never enough, I never understood why I was never enough, to love, to be okay with just me. It never stopped. I was only 16.

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Never Again

Trigger Warning This story may contain descriptions of physical and...

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Kristina Laine

male domestic abuse survivor

Kristina Laine

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He would tell me that my parents don’t love me, friends don’t love me that he was just trying to help me and that it was my fault

My name is Kristina Laine, and this is my story.

I met a man in 2014, who pretended I be the night in shining armor that I needed. I was obvious to what was happening around me and this is my story of surviving.

People often think that abuse only comes in one form. That you have to be hit to suffer at the hands of someone. You don’t see it coming, you make a story in your head that it’s you and they are right. You start to believe that something is wrong with you.

When I met Andy, I had just had an abortion, my sons father moved out of our apartment, and he moved in on me. At first, he was a friend that I thought I so desperately needed. He would help me through my sons leaving, would help me clean up the house and help me take care of my other two children. At the time I didn’t know he had charges, or that he had one child he has never seen and only had known of one who lived with him. He seemed like the type of person anyone would want. There were red flags that I left unnoticed or figured if I just loved him enough maybe he would stop stealing and he’s just going through a hard time.

The first time I ever noticed anything was a few months after 4th of July in 2014. A fight broke out, his rage had boiled to the point of him calling me a cunt and a bitch and he would storm off and go back downstairs to blow up my phone telling me how terrible I am and made me believe it was all my fault. Would promise to change and while it would last for a short period of time it never fully changed.

I started notice odd behaviors, he would grab a cane and pretend he couldn’t walk and go downstairs to his mom’s house and get pain pills and opioid’s, she would give him some of hers and then miraculously he could walk again. I would make excuses in my head despite my mother telling me something is wrong.

During this time, he would tell me that my parents don’t love me, friends don’t love me that he was just trying to help me and that it was my fault. I know now looking back it was not my fault, but I was young and naïve, and I didn’t realize that people were capable of this kind of thing. I never saw it coming.

In between that point and up until November of 2014, Andrew had started multiple fights and would just snap for no reason, and it would be become well you’re a bitch and a cunt and was always my fault. He would twist and turn until the facts no longer remained and it became about how I did it. While I knew in the back of my head something was wrong, I just allowed it. I figured if I didn’t upset him, it would stop, and it never did. This fight was different, I had put my two-year-old into his crib and Andrews older son was in the living room and that’s when it happened. In one moment, Andrew decided he was going to start taking a ton of sleeping pills and was saying this is your fault and you made me do this. I struggled to cover his mouth with a bottle, but he shoved me to the ground and continued to take them. At that time, I told his older son to go downstairs and get Andrew’s mother. Both Andres mom and stepfather brought him back to life and the first thing his mom said to me is why did you let him take pills? Why didn’t you stop him. As Andrew was taken away and put on a 5150, I was called multiple times in jail telling me how it was my fault he was in jail, how could I do this to him. I started thinking it was my fault so I did everything I could to get him out of jail and out of the hospital and stood by his side while he had this horrible ideal that I had caused.

After his first suicide attempt, we were evicted from our apartment and had to move to another apartment. This point he was on multiple different medications prescribed from the doctor, most of which were opioid’s and on top of that his mother would give him his prescription pills. The cops were constantly at our house, either for contempt of court for nonpayment or because he overdosed again, or because the neighbors called the cops. One day he took an extreme number of pills, was pacing our apartment in front of my daughter who was 7, son who was 3 and his older son who was 13. He began to hold a knife at his throat and proceed to tell me he will do it if I want. We sat on the couch in complete silence and had no idea what to do. I couldn’t call the cops because if he found out all hell would break loose, and his older son was in the bedroom, and I didn’t know how to get him out safe. Previously in over 6 different occurrences before this one we would lock ourselves in the bathroom to hide from him. He would break down the door, while me and my two-year-old were curdled up scared and frightened. When he put the knife down, he then proceeded to throw are large wooden coffee table up against the wall and I had to shield my two-year-old and was hit with the coffee table. He would start mumbling around the house and looking for a nonexistent key to a motorcycle he never owned. He finally proceeded into the laundry room, and I lied and said I was taking our dog for a walk. I called the cops, and they came, and he was once again put on a 5150.

At this time, I couldn’t leave because I was pregnant and he would stalk, harass, apologize every time and at this point I was convinced that it was my fault, and I became a shell of a person. I made the decision to protect my daughter and she went to stay with my father and stepmother.

I could never get out what I was going through. I could call my mom and try and explain but at the time I truly believed it was me. He had me convinced I was bipolar and if I didn’t do this or that then he wouldn’t act that way towards me.

While I was pregnant, he was arrested because was sleeping in the desert and attempted to fight himself and almost got hit by a car. He wasn’t staying with us but would randomly show up and pound on the door in the middle of the night. He would leave gifts and would stalk me for days until I would let him back.

No one ever heard the silent screams of his screaming in my face for hours calling me names, punching the wall next to my face, breaking down doors to get to where we are and spinning it to whoever would hear it. He broke down doors because I was supposedly trying to kill myself, he was yelling at me because I wouldn’t listen, and it was my fault for making him angry. At some point you take it because you have little ones and if you fight back, he gets worse and starts breaking things and my greatest fear would be he would move from me to my kids, and I was stuck. I was stuck in this cycle of abuse for too long believing it was my fault, believing if I just would listen better, behave better that he would stop, and it never did.

I allowed him back in again and multiple times he would hold a knife to his throat, it was always threating to kill himself if I leave, if I don’t listen, if I just did what he asked so I always did.

Multiple times up until this point he would OD in public and have seizures and I lost count how many times paramedics came. I lost count how many times the police would show up. There is a sense of shame I carry now for allowing what he did to us to my kids. I am an adult, but it was my fault I allowed this man to be in my kid’s life.

The same night following with the knife the cops did come and put him on another 5150.

We once gain was evicted and had to move into a weekly because he would spend our money on getting pills on the street when his mother wouldn’t provide them for him. I was pregnant and trusting a man to take care of me and instead was living in filth.

A few months passed and my wonderful mother and parents helped us get a house. I was pregnant so my mom went on the lease to get me and the kids a house. Multiple times Andrew wouldn’t work, get fired and stumble around our house high and crashing into walls. This time he pooped in the kid’s playroom, and I had it. I told him he had to leave, he had to move out that me and the kids did not want to be around him. He was stumbled around the house calling me names. My son who was 2 at the time started crying and freaking out Andrew was in the dining room and my sweet little two-year-old got angry he was screaming and threw his juice at him. Andrew smacked my two-year-old, so I then told him to get out that I was calling the police. Later I realized it was a mistake. He started slamming doors, kicking the wall and throwing things. I picked up my son and we went with the baby who was now born and hid in my daughter’s bedroom. We put her dresser in front of the door, and I was in shock that I didn’t call the cops and thought he would just leave, he didn’t. He instead stood quiet and opened the garage to make me think he was gone so I opened the door. I will never forget the evil he had in his eyes and the hatred as he stood there screaming in my face calling me names and cornering me into the wall. I slapped him to get away from me and he took off.

All day goes by, and he wasn’t anywhere to be found and then there was a knock at my door. I held the lock so he couldn’t get in and he started pounding on the door. I called the cops; he called the cops. What happened next, I feel I was robbed by the justice system. I told the truth even have police reports and show them the history. He told them I had postpartum depression, and I was going to hurt the children. I was going to hurt the children. Me? I have never even smacked my children, never once did anything but the cops believed and found me to be the violent one even with holes in the door, where we barricaded ourselves to hide from him, multiple reports prior and I was taken to jail and was at that point I lost hope that anyone would believe me.

After me being arrested I was done. He would use the police on 2 different occasions to gain access to the house, come in the middle of the night banging on the door. I lived in utter fear and there was nothing I could do. The cops let him in and by law since was on the lease I was told by an officer that what I am doing is wrong and I have to let him in. Me and my mom contacted the rental property management and had him evicted.

For months he would continue to show up and at this point I didn’t trust the police. He would play the victim and every time they would believe him, feel sorry for him so I stopped even bothering with the help of Henderson police department. I had given up that anyone would help me. I couldn’t trust anyone, and I hated myself and the whole world.

My parents helped me move to a new apartment across town. I figured I would give him a chance thinking he was a terrible husband but maybe he could be a better father to Wyatt. On Wyatts 1st birthday he showed up high to our house and was slamming doors and acting violent till a neighbor told him he was going to call the cops and he left.

From the time Wyatt from a few months old till about 3 Andrew would come over once in a while and every time would start a fight and create chaos in our home. I always made the mistake of telling him where we moved to, and we kept moving and then my mistake would tell him again. I was lying to my parents about him coming around, myself and I was completely stuck. The final straw for me was in 2017 when someone broke into our house. I still to this day do not know if it was him but police were called, and someone walked into our downstairs only to get attacked by our dog. Wyatt was little at the time and just said a man was there. Our screens have been tampered with and to this day I still fear he will try to come into the house.

In 2017 Andrew blew up in front of Wyatt who was 2 at the time over bell peppers. I will never forget Wyatts face crying on our stairs saying daddy gone. I made the decision to run, that if I didn’t, I would end up dead. This was the fear I lived in, taping the doors at night, putting chairs up against my door, all of us sleeping in my bedroom because I was afraid for my life and my kid’s life. We packed up and moved to CA and finally free I started rebuilding my life.

I can never explain how it feels too not be afraid anymore. I knew he wouldn’t find us because he didn’t know where my mom lived in Simi Valley. Previously Andrew had never even supported Wyatt so I knew he wouldn’t fight for him because his obsession was with me.

For 4 years we rebuilt our lives, I started healing going to counseling and finding out from a therapist the extend of abuse that I suffered and how it emotionally damaged me.

In 2020, Andrew stated he was clean and wanted a chance to be a father. Both his mother Janet and he had seemed to turn a new leaf and were on the outside looking like they finally got off of drugs. It started with small visits, where he would get the day with Wyatt. I would get text messages telling me I need to make Wyatt eat foods at their house, he would hold Wyatt hostage till I would beg and plead and apologize for things I didn’t do just to be able to get my son back. See apparently whoever has the child doesn’t have to return them and he used that every chance he could. I thought by law I had to allow him visitation or I would get in trouble so I would apologize, beg and tell him anything I wanted him to hear just to get my son back. I would get him back and flow him. Later I found out his obsession would turn into hate because I kept Wyatt away. For a while he would see Wyatt here and there never driving to see him, we would drive to see my dad and would take Wyatt to him. Everyone around me always made me believe that he’s his father he will be ok, but something always told me something isn’t right. Wyatt would always come back angry, say terrible things about me. This isn’t Wyatts character to act this way, he is sweet, smart, kind and a loving, outgoing child. He could come back telling stories of how daddy lost him in the forest or told him he was a little bitch at 4 or would scream at him at a water park because he was too scared to go down the slide. I of course told it was lies and Wyatt was lying and making up stories, but Wyatt wasn’t known for lying.

One day after covid me and my boyfriend at the time had to move for work temporary in AZ, we couldn’t afford CA and so I had asked Andy to keep Wyatt for a few weeks while we were moving because he was 4 and I didn’t want him living in a weekly. He would stop letting me call, avoid my phone calls, accuse me of abandoning Wyatt and even going as far as to tell Wyatt that I didn’t want him when that wasn’t Tue. When I would visit his friends would come out and harass me telling me I need to buy things for my son and accused me of abandoning my child because it was the narrative, he told everyone to make himself the hero. We immediately devised a plan to go get Wyatt and make a plan to get back to CA, so we did. At the time he had warrants so threating to call the cops ensured I would be able to get Wyatt back. We moved back to CA and Wyatt started Kindergarten and life returned to normal and we had peace in our lives. Andy barely called and when he did, he was cordial and seemed ok. What I know now is frightening to how far his obsession was and I feel he was playing a part to get on my good graces. He mostly would call to talk to me, be nosey about my relationship and barely asked about Wyatt but I didn’t see it because I am friends with my other kids’ dads and can talk about anything, so I never really saw he was obsessed with me or was still in love with me. He would try and be a friend to get information to use on me later. He would then start telling my current fiancé which at the time was my boyfriend, that I could cheat on him, that I was bipolar, and he was with me when I was diagnosed and all false allegations and never been diagnosed. This wasn’t the last time he would try and convince people in my life that something was wrong with me and he’s an amazing dad. My boyfriend actually started thinking I was in fact keeping a child away from this amazing father, which now he’s sees otherwise but that is how convincing he is. Even though I was living with this man he was starting to believe the narcissist.

Multiple times from that point to current status Andy played the poor father whose ex stole his child from him. Yet never once has supported Wyatt or even helped, despite being asked, would have an excuse as to why not to help. In 2022 we got engaged were moving back to Nevada and I thought it was all behind us. I let Wyatt come out here early to spend time with his papa and Dad and in this time, Andy used it to tell my parents he should have custody of Wyatt and for my parents to see I am a bad mother, and he should have custody. My parents knew that wasn’t true, but it didn’t stop him and his mother from calling to trying to be best friends with my stepmom to try and turn my own family against me. He started a fight because he couldn’t register Wyatt for school, he had to take Wyatt to school for one day and tried to control everything hiding paperwork from me to the point I had to go to the office to make second accounts.

Wyatt is now 7 and this has been going on since 2014. I finally had enough and after he tried to kidnap Wyatt again, claiming I was violent and so on I finally thought I would try the legal system again to get help. I first tried to file a TPO so he would be legally not allowed to kidnap Wyatt anymore and was denied.

On September 22 on Wyatts birthday Andrew called to tell Wyatt he could only get his gifts for his birthday if mommy let him come to his house. That mommy was keeping him away and I hung up the call. On his birthday?? I finally decided it was time to get a divorce and go after sole custody and prevent Andy from hurting Wyatt anymore. That the courts would see how a child is being used as a pawn and we would get peace, that’s not what’s happening. I filed for divorce on 9/23/2022, Andrew contested so we had a court date to see the judge. I advised the judge with dates and incidents and thought I had enough proof and that they could easily see he recently had a batter charge and wouldn’t put us in danger and boy was I wrong.

The judge gave a suicidal, drug addict, violent offender every weekend and told me I needed proof, so I convinced myself to get all of the 911 calls, incident reports, his criminal record to file a motion which was denied. The first weekend he had Wyatt, he told him I was violent and a bad mother, that David my fiancé was violent, and Wyatt came home angry, upset and extremely mean. I then confronted Andy and of course was oh he was fine at my house. I contacted the school to find out Wyatt was having behavior problems in school, so I got all of my proof and sent it to the judge and my motion was ignore. Until this point and if I didn’t file for divorce, he still would have not picked up Wyatt or bothered. Andy would complain when asked to help with school that we woke him up, he would try and get my boyfriend to turn on me and even go as far as to tell him me and him are getting back together and that was not even true. Currently he stalls mediation to grant me sole custody then turns around to ask for a mediator to prolong the case. I have filed multiple motions to be denied, to be ignored. Proof of 3 suicide attempts, incident report of trying to fight a police officer, multiple cases where he even went after his parents are gone ignored.

On 1/14 Andrew was a no show, didn’t bother texting, emailing or stating he wasn’t going to come. Wyatt waited till 12 and then we gave up. We want to Central, enjoyed the weekend and still nothing all week. Andrew showed up on 1/21 and he wasn’t there the previous week, so I just didn’t want to get Wyatt ready to be disappointed. He knocked on the door so I told him he would have to wait were not expecting him and you can tell he was mad but on camera, so he knows to make sure to not do anything on camera to get in trouble. Our agreement was to return Wyatt back at 10 AM, I texted at 10 am and he said he wasn’t coming because court order says 6 pm and that’s not true. We are in mediation, so court order is 10 am and he purposely never told me because he wants to get a reaction, so he sends me the mediation and I tell him that is not a court order it’s a parenting plan being built and was blocked. Panic sets in because so many times he finds a way to twist and turn any narrative to make him look like a doting, wonderful father following the rules, but he knew that wasn’t the case. ^ pm rolls around and he is nowhere to be found I text him and ask where Wyatt is, and he tells me they are running late. I tell him he’s in volitation of a court order and Wyatt is 7 hours late, he calls the police to play the victim and have Wyatt brought to his house with two police officers.

This morning I filed contempt of court. He purposely did it hoping I would flip out and get mad and he called the cops. He called the cops to pretend he is the victim to look good in front of a judge and play the role.

I have contacted the mayor, city attorney and anyone and everyone I can to get help. I don’t know what to do except to get my story out there and show how the system fails us moms who are victims of abuse.

I am writing you in regards to my current custody case. I was married to this man for 14 months back in 2015. My children and myself suffered at the hands of this man from verbal abuse, putting a knife to his throat in front of us, constant police coming, and he will not stop at attacking anyone. For years I have suffered from what he put me and the kids through and while I finally got out and away now the judge is allowing him to be a constant presence in our life. Who protects the children from violent and suicidal drug addicts? I have tried showing the judge everything from 911 calls to incident reports, previous record on not even caring of his other two children. I provided 911 calls from over 3 suicide attempts. How is that not enough? I feel the justice system has failed me and so many other moms. In 2015 while me and my kids had to lock ourselves in my daughter who was 7 at the times bedroom Andrew Bailey tried to kick it down, I was the one who was arrested for smacking him to get away from me. Even though they took photos of the door and Andrew told the same story he became the victim was I was asking for help. You become a shell of a person when no one wants to help, no one hears you, you become another statistic. He has even gone after the police.

For so many years I stayed silent, for so many years the few times he did see Wyatt and I would beg and plead for him to bring me my son back. When will enough proof be enough for mothers during custody cases? Currently as I write this, he had agreed to bring Wyatt back at 10 AM and decided to keep him till 6 PM, he has tried to kidnap Wyatt, is extremely manipulative towards him and I don’t know who to ask for help. Last week he didn’t even show and the previous weekend he tried to tell my son who is 7 I am violent and a bad mom. I tried asking the judge, no one ever hears the victims. I can never explain the terror I feel when he is legally allowed to pick up my 7-year-old boy. I need your help in finding me an advocate or having someone look over my case and tell me why 4 suicide attempts, attack on his stepfather, violent charges is not enough to allow a violent man to be in a child’s life he doesn’t even know. For 7 years Andrew has seen Wyatt 6 months in 7 years, he didn’t even have him over night until 2021. I need help! I am trying to get my story out there because the justice system will not hear me. I have lost hope of anyone being able to do something and afraid will become another statistic.

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Never Again

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True Colors Revealed

male domestic abuse survivor

True Colors Revealed

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He made me alienate my friends and family so nobody knew what was going on.

I married my ex husband in 2013. First few months were great, and then he revealed his true colors. It started with emotional abuse – I never looked good enough, didn’t say or do things the way he wanted them. He first hit me 6 months into our marriage – a punch to the side of the head because I didn’t wake up with him to his alarm to pull his clothes out of the dryer.

The abuse got worse and worse over the next few months. Punches, kicks, head slamming into the fridge. But he made everything better because he would buy me stuff the day after he hurt me. Fast forward to 2016 – I found out I was pregnant. Although we were married, the sex was not consensual. I was raped by my own husband – beaten til unconscious and then he raped me.

A week before I “escaped”, I tried to leave and he jumped through the windshield of my car and repeatedly kicked it until the windshield shattered. I ran upstairs to our apartment but he was right behind me. He beat me to a pulp with the worst injury being a broken sternum in three places.

The cops let me down repeatedly. He was military and we lived off post so they refused to arrest him – kept saying I need to go through military police and his chain of command. So I went to leadership and they let me down too. I ended up in the hospital for my sternum and he was with me the entire time and convinced the doctors I was attacked by our husky which jumped on my chest and broke my sternum. I had no family in the country, and no friends because he had total control of everything – money, my work etc. He made me alienate my friends and family so nobody knew what was going on. I was his rag doll to do whatever with.

The day before I escaped he tried to drown me in the bathtub and said “I will kill you and this bastard baby”. There was NOTHING behind his eyes. No pleasure, no anger, nothing. Just cold. I was saved by our neighbor banging on the door because he heard me yelling. The next day I drove myself to the airport with nothing but the clothes on my back and a suitcase full of my clothes and I escaped.

I flew back home and I stayed there and had the hardest time bonding with my child – my parents are now raising him as their own because the trauma is too much and I knew I couldn’t give my child the love and the life he deserved. I am in a safe, happy relationship now, but the trauma still remains just as strong as ever. I don’t know if I will ever heal, or ever be at peace, but knowing my child is safe in a place my ex husband will never find him, in a sense makes it ok. My child is alive and I am alive too.

Time does not heal all wounds, we just learn to live with the weight we carry. I am slowly learning to love myself. It’s an incredibly long, hard road. But I am on it. I got out, you can too.

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Never Again

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You Can’t Hurt Me Anymore

You Can’t Hurt Me Anymore

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I was traumatized, abused, neglected, and abandoned from childhood into early adulthood. I felt as though this was all that I deserved.

The first time he hit me, I was certain it wouldn’t happen again. If I just kept my mouth shut, not challenge or stand up to him, and be obedient, and let him drink himself to a stupor, he wouldn’t put his hands on me again.

I married my abuser and it was the worst years of my life. I was always accused of cheating, nothing I did was ever good enough, and everything I said was held against me. His drinking got so much worse after we got married. And so did the physical abuse.

My father was an alcoholic, and did unthinkable things. But, he recovered, got sober, and our relationship exponentially improved over the course of my adult life. It gave me hope that if my father could overcome this awful addiction, certainly so could my husband. I didn’t know how wrong I was… When he was sober, I was his obsession, but not in a loving way. When he was drinking, the name calling hurt almost as much as the punching and hair pulling. He literally drug my face across the floor calling me “dirt”.

I can’t say I wish I never met him because I wouldn’t have my boys, but I do wish that after my childhood trauma, that I had taken the time to heal properly.

To all women who have been in an abusive relationship; to all women who are domestic violence survivors; to all women who can’t seem to shake the abuser and the trauma bond that you feel; I have been there. I understand completely. I had my very own Jekyll and Hyde. He was an abusive alcoholic who didn’t appreciate anything I had to offer, and showed me on a daily basis that I was a piece of property with no value or worth, and that nothing I did or said was ever good enough. I see you.

I was traumatized, abused, neglected, and abandoned from childhood into early adulthood. I felt as though this was all that I deserved. When I met my abuser, he was kind, attentive, caring, and loving at the right time and I fell hard for his ill-conceived charm. The abuse escalated quickly and every time I threatened to leave, call the police, or literally tell anyone, he’d swear things would be different. Only they got worse every time. The night he put his hands around my neck, I was in far too deep. Seeking help from local resources, I fled but he would not just let me go. The stalking lasted for several years, the emotional and verbal abuse continues to this day. However, through my own healing journey, he can’t hurt me anymore. In any aspect.

I wrote a book about my time in this abusive marriage. I encourage you to purchase a copy and find some hope that there is life after domestic violence and you can find true love-love that doesn’t hurt, and that you can feel worthy, valuable, LOVED, and that you are enough just as you are after being made to feel the complete opposite. Break the Silence. “You Can’t Hurt Me Anymore” by C.A. Russell

You Can’t Hurt Me Anymore is a true story of overcoming trauma bonds and domestic violence, rising above it to find the inner strength I didn’t know I had. Decades of mistreatment programmed me to believe I would never be enough.

When the people I loved hurt me the most, my constant yearning for validation began. Finding the power to stand up to my abusers, re-learn acceptable behaviors and transform my cognitive perceptions was the ultimate feat.

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Never Again

Trigger Warning This story may contain descriptions of physical and...

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