Over 6 years ago when I was living in Missouri, I met this man. Oh, boy was he loving, one of the sweetest men I’ve ever met. He stole my heart and he ran with it, he helps me with my 2 children (3 yrs old and 2 months old at the time) he tried helping me keep afloat during my postpartum depression. He picked up extra shifts at work, he put in so much effort. We quickly got married (Feb 18, 2014) and we moved to Florida to be close to my family and start our new life together.
Then things started changing, there was strain put on the relationships with my family and my friends. At first, I didn’t catch the signs, I didn’t see what he was doing but he was slowly pushing everyone out of my life.
I remember it like it was yesterday. We found out we were having our first child together in September of 2014. Yet he was caught once again trying to get in another woman’s pants. I’m a stubborn brat, I’ll admit that. I told him if he continued to try to be with other women he can have them and forget about me. The argument escalated and when I went to walk away he grabbed me and pushed me down the hall then tried to stop me from falling, in doing so hit my stomach.
My family called the cops and tried to get me to press charges.
They told me this is where it starts. They told me it will get worse. My grandmother begged me to listen. I didn’t want to believe them. ”I KNOW MY HUSBAND!” That’s all I kept saying.
I never pressed charges. I let him come back. He promised all these changes. He missed me so much, I missed him terribly. He LOVED me!!!
Though the promises never came. He still watched his phone all day ignoring everything and everyone, still talked to other women about wanting them, wouldn’t look for a job.
Eventually, it got to the point that we were about to lose our place to stay, he was forced to find a job. He was actually doing good at this one (for once…) so my parents helped us to get a place for our year anniversary.
Slowly he was breaking me down and I didn’t even notice. I was constantly cleaning, cooking, being a wife, striving to make him happy. I didn’t understand why he always seemed upset with me. Every day he had something to say I was doing wrong but never told me what it was. So I strived even harder the next day. I just wanted my husband happy.
Then one morning I woke up to my living room trashed, it looked like he had a food fight with jelly beans and crunchy Cheetos in the middle of the night. I was upset, but I cleaned it up and started fixing breakfast.
I woke him up told him my uncle was fixing to stop by. Shortly after, he came out of the bedroom, I’ve never seen him angry like this, he was screaming at me broke my phone so I couldn’t make any calls for help… March 3rd, 2015, the day my grandmother and family told me was going to come finally did… I remember this day clearly… And probably always will…
He slammed me into the kitchen counter and covered my mouth and nose to keep me from screaming, I tried to get him off but everything started getting dark. I won’t up coughing and he did it again. When he let go I begged him to stop but he was a completely different man. He pulled me up and pushed me into the wall screaming in my face. He told me if I told anyone he would kill them. He threatened to beat my father’s head in with a crowbar if I ever told him. I tried to get away but he grabbed me and slammed me into the stove then the counter. After he was done I was sitting on the floor crying, I was in so much pain I couldn’t get off the floor. He yelled at me to stand up and when I told him I couldn’t he said ”then you better crawl”
Then I looked up, my 3 yr old little boy was awake in his pack and play watching the whole thing… He had thrown all his toys out, his eyes best red from crying. He even threw his pull up… I started crying and kept trying to get off the floor, but by this point I was having really bad contractions.
He eventually came back in the kitchen and helped me up. He told me he was going to go to the bar and gave me a kiss.
I watched him leave and as soon as he did I took my 2 children and ran to the apartments next to us banging on doors screaming for help. Someone finally called the cops, I went to the hospital… I by this point I was about 6 months pregnant!!!!! My baby’s heartbeat was 37…. Quickly they started an IV treated some of my wounds. I had marks covering my body. But not my face, that was ”to pretty” for him to hit. I was released and told to take it very easy.
I went to a domestic violence shelter. Far away from my family or friends. I felt like a prisoner… I felt like I was the one who did wrong… I felt worse there then I did at home. I just wanted my own space for me and my kids… I wanted to feel like a person.
I ended up leaving the shelter and going back to my house since my husband went to his mother in Missouri to avoid going to jail.
I promised I wouldn’t talk to my husband… But I felt useless, I wanted to hear that he loved me… I wanted my family… He wanted to come home but I said no.
Since I had no income I ended up losing my house. I went and stayed with my mother, but I often felt like a problem. I felt like she judged me. Once again I felt alone.
My husband was showing all this care, making all these promises, he wanted to be a family again. He told me he would work on things, he was so sorry for everything he put me through.
Once again, I believed him.
I took him back…
We were homeless, bounced from place to place. Till eventually we found a house.
Our little boy was born shortly after we moved into our house in June of 2015, after my 6 weeks was up I started working. And slowly again. Things were going bad. But this time even more slowly I didn’t even notice any signs at all till it was to late… I left again December of 2015, after I came home from work and found out he was using drugs and was leaving the kids unattended for long periods of time. We left while he was asleep and went to a different domestic violence shelter.
I don’t know what made me talk to him again. I’m not sure what I was thinking. But again he made promises, again like a fool I believe him, and again I went back…
We moved, things were going very great, we barely argued, barely had problems until I got very sick. I ended up in the hospital due to a server kidney infection bladder infection and large kidney stones. They placed a nephrostomy tube to drain my kidney since I had complete blockage and was placed on bed rest. He refused to help me with the kids or the house. I kept begging him to find a job so we could pay out bills, but he wouldn’t.
We lost our home again.
We continued to try to work things out. Again we moved around a lot… During this a had a very traumatic miscarriage… Sept 11, 2016… This hit me very hard. For months I wasn’t myself.. I screamed cried almost every night. I begged God for my baby back. I had nightmares of the night I lost my baby. I didn’t eat. I hardly talked to anyone. I took care of my 3 babies and when they went to sleep I drank. I just wanted the pain to go away. I wanted to feel whole, I wanted to feel loved… I wanted my Skyler Avery back.
While dealing with this he constantly told me to get over it. Suck it up. But I just couldn’t, November a month after losing my baby I tried to commit suicide… Thankfully I didn’t succeed. I realized then that I needed to be here for my kids because they wouldn’t have anyone if they didn’t have me.
A few months I found out I was pregnant again… I was so scared. I cried I wouldn’t buy anything, I was terrified to lose her. I didn’t know if I would be able to go through another loss.
We found a house and moved again. I had my healthy baby girl in August. But by this point I knew our relationship was far past saving, it got to the point I hated myself for staying so long. I was extremely depressed. I have panic attacks constantly. I had thoughts of suicide. I barely got out of bed on most days. I was then diagnosed with depression, anxiety, and PTSD and got help. I started to feel better about my self and a little more empowered.
Well I guess that intimated him, he started using drugs again, he started saying up all night drinking. He didn’t sleep next to me anymore. He didn’t spend any time with me or the kids. Then one day I told him, it’s either the drugs or us because you can’t have both.
The baby started crying so I went and picked her up and started walking towards the bedroom to nurse her. He came up behind me pulled my shoulder grabbed my throat and slammed me into the door while holding our baby. I was done. I couldn’t do it anymore. I started really looking for a way out.
A few days later was our 4 year anniversary. Maybe about a month later when our youngest was about 7 months old, he went to Missouri to see his mother and we separated finally after he started sleeping with someone. And even though I knew our relationship wasn’t worth trying anymore I was extremely depressed that after all my hard work I got nothing in return.
I started pushing myself. I moved on. I recovered. I met some awesome people that helped me so much. Some of which could never know how much they meant to me.
2 years later.
I no longer feel like I’m worthless, I no longer feel like a failure. I’m off all my meds. I own a business. I barely ever have any panic attacks.
I recovered most of my friendships.
I made new friends.
I found things I really enjoy.
I found myself.
And I love her finally ❤️❤️
