How does one go from confident, successful, and living her best life to homeless, unemployed, shamed, and wondering how did this happen to me. Let me start with saying this is just a snippet of what I endure over 3 years of marriage.
In 2016, I met the man of my dreams caring, selfless, financially stable, business owner, educated, charismatic and the stars aligned…or so I thought. Shortly after meeting him I started to see signs that at the time I ignored. He had a few different names he went by, he always blamed everyone else for what has happened to him, he didn’t have any friends, and had an extremely volatile relationship with his ex-wife after 7 years of divorce. I knew he had been to prison for violating a protection order(and lying about it) with his first wife but he made sure I knew that he was wrongly convicted and it was all her fault. I believed him. I mean he told me in advance, he didn’t try to hide that he went to prison and he had a successful business and appeared to be back on his feet and doing well. The signs kept coming and I kept ignoring them. The mental, emotional, and intellectual abuse began and then lead to the physical and financial abuse. He “supported” me leaving my 15 year career in order to pursue my own dreams as well as working with in his business. What I did not know is that this was the control he would later have over me. He would accuse me of hiding things and stealing from him. I recall one event where he yelled at me for hiding the stapler and when I said I did not he started banging on the kitchen table telling me I did. I walked into the room he was in and the stapler was sitting in front of him. If I ever questioned him or he thought I was against him, he would become very angry and yell, cuss, or slam/throw things. He would get up in the middle of the night and turn lights on and do things that were loud or disrupt those sleeping. Originally, I thought it was just him not being able to sleep until I questioned it. It then would turn into a fight and he would keep me up all night yelling and trying to keep me awake. I later learned this was a form of abuse. Sleep deprivation in order to wear me down mentally. The lies continued and became so ridiculous that he had me question if he was lying or not, because why would someone lie about that. For example, he said he was at the store getting milk and he would be right home. A few hours later he came home and did not have milk. When I asked about the milk, he would dismiss me and tell me to go get it. I learned not to ask where he was. The ending was never good. He would lie about anything and everything and for no reason. Even his name. He went as far as telling me his current name on his drivers license was what he was born with and his birth certificate was wrong. Again, one would think why lie about this? And, did I really care what his name was exactly, no I did not but the act of him lying was what was so disturbing. One day while I was working from home I started to clean up the living room and went to find the tv remote to put it where it belonged and texted him asking where it was and he said “I caught you”. He purposely hid the remote so I would not watch tv. What I did not realize then that I do now, is that he was hard at work in an attempt to break me down. Attempting to distort my reality in order to make me believe I was crazy. Break me down to make me feel worthless. I couldn’t tell you how many times he called me a whore, cunt, bitch, and other words I cannot bring myself to even repeat. Early on I would argue back, try to disprove his lies, and question him. This eventually led to the physical abuse. He already mentally wore me down so that when he physically hurt me, I would be less likely to fight back. He would tell me that if I called the police he would just tell them I hit him first and they will believe him. In fact, he even threatened to call the police and let them know I went crazy again and he was defending himself. I was so broken, that I let him spit in my face, punch me in the face, kick me while I was on the ground, slam my head into the console of our car, put a pillow over my face, and throw the kitchen garbage on me. I was ashamed, worn out, tired, and feared what he would do next. It became so bad that I was mentally and physically paralyzed and could not function on a daily basis. I stayed home so no one would see the black eye, swollen lip, gash in my forehead, and the trouble I had sitting because he kicked me in my tailbone so hard. I started trying to figure out what was wrong with me. How did I go from confident, successful, and happy to being depressed, tired, exhausted, and crazy! How can the outside world think I am still that confident person but at home I am not?? I did a great job of hiding it and no one knew except for maybe the neighbors who would have heard his yells and throwing stuff out the windows and doors. I lied for him in order to hide the abuse. I would tell people how great of a business owner he was. How honest and caring he was. It was all a lie. I was afraid of how he would turn the truth and what he was capable of doing if I didn’t support him. Once I started trying to figure out why I was crazy is when I started to see what was really going on. I started opening up about little things and doing research on my own. It led me to reading stories like this one you are reading now.
On 11/13/2019 I left my husband for the first and last time. It wasn’t easy and still isn’t but I know that I am safe and so are my doggies. Since leaving I have continued to endure abuse. He has broken into my car, abused my dogs, not followed court orders, and continues shaming me to others. I was able to obtain a protection order, however as any domestic violence survivor knows, that while this might deter them or slow them down, this does not stop them. He has continued to violate the orders and make attempts to shame me speaking out against him. Through the help of local domestic violence organizations and amazing friends/family I have been able to continue to have a voice, stand up for myself and not be afraid to speak up no matter how big or small it is. The worst abuse that I endured was the mental abuse. I still struggle with what is real or not real. I still check the back of my car each time I get in to see if he is hiding in there. I still cringe when someone raises there voice or I hear loud noises and struggle sleeping at night. I still struggle believing anything anyone says. I still wonder what he will do next. The journey to healing will be just as long as the abuse or longer but what I do know is that I am no crazy and that I will recover.
