My approach has always been prevention. To make sure MY children never deal with what I have. To help anyone who needs it, even if it just as simple as being a friend.
I am the aftermath of Domestic Violence. I am the child who suffered. And I am finally not afraid to tell.
My father is not violent or abusive, he never has been. We were taken from him at a very young age without his permission. My Mom was always the type who "had to have a man". She never really cared about herself enough to try to go at it on her own. I always wonder if she was scared of being alone. And if I could ask her why it all happened the way it did I would. But she is unable to share with me, and this is the story of why.
Her second husband wasn't that bad. As an adult, I understand how frustrated he may have been. He took on two children and moved us to Hawaii. He got frustrated with us sometimes. You could tell we irritated the crap out of him. He was raised by strict parents and was always quick to discipline us. We hated him as children. So when he decided to leave my Mom I was relieved. She was absolutely devastated, I think she genuinely loved him. But once he made his decision he drove us across the country and dropped us all off in our hometown of Pocatello, Idaho.
What happened next ruined my Mother's life forever.
She was completely annihilated over her divorce. She couldn't eat, she didn't sleep, she could barely breathe. Her heart was shattered into a million pieces. That is why it was so easy for that narcissistic, lying asshole to weasel his way in.
He wooed her with gifts, took her on extravagant trips and spent tons of money on her. He made her feel like she was a queen and spoiled her rotten. So she ignored his past. She ignored how verbally abusive he was. She pretended he wasn't doing anything wrong. And when she got pregnant, she willingly fled with him to an isolated area.
That was when he took her car. That was when he took away long distance. That was when he showed his true colors.
The only communication I had with my Mom was letters. I was ANGRY with her for always choosing men over my siblings and I. I couldn't believe she left us behind. He didn't want us there, so she left us. There was a time I wouldn't even open her letters.
One of the most vivid memories I have was one of the few times I went to visit her. I was 11 or 12, and my brothers and sister were in one place for the first time ever. She was so happy to have all of us under 1 roof. Then one night they got into a fight. I remember him dragging her out the door by her hair with one hand and a rifle in the other. I gathered all of my siblings and stretched the phone cord (back when corded phones were still normal) to the bathroom. I locked all of us in and called my Dad.
He didn't shoot her. He beat her and threatened to kill himself. She pleaded with him. She begged him to spare his life and had no care about her own. She didn't know that I had taken it upon myself to protect my brothers and sister and called for help. I still to this day wish that call would have been to the police.
My Dad came the next day to pick up my brother and I. He did his best to convince her to come with him. He didn't want to leave her behind. But her husband had kept my youngest brother home so she would have to go back. And she went back. If you look at pictures of my littlest brother's childhood you will notice that there are never any with my Mom from the shoulders up. She told me once that it was because she never didn't have black eyes and cuts all over. She is barely 5' and 100 lbs. He got a kick out of controlling her. He never took it easy on her. No matter how hard she tried to please him, he never stopped. I will always wonder how her family sat around and ignored this, because they knew it was happening! I was just a kid. And I did the best I could to talk her into leaving but it never happened.
Then he did even worse. He kicked my Mother out of a moving vehicle and she got hurt really bad. My Mom now has a traumatic brain injury. She cannot take care of herself anymore, and of course now he has disappeared. I lost track of him and honestly never want to know anything about him. I pray he never inflicted his craziness on anyone else. And by the time I was an adult and could help it had already happened.
What is the effect on children who struggle with being exposed to severe abuse? That is a big part of my personal story.
When I was 14 I met this guy. Boys didn't notice me when I was younger. I was always such a tomboy, I barely even combed my hair. And he paid attention to me. He smothered me with attention. Before I knew it I was completely "in love" and had a real boyfriend.
We had barely been together for a couple of weeks when he began pressuring me for sex. I never even had the desire, but I felt like if I didn't I would lose him. Eventually I gave in even though I really didn't want to.
Soon after he became very controlling. I couldn't sit on the same couch as another guy. I had several male friends at the time, but I had to quit talking to all of them. And although he could flirt with girls and cheat on me, if I even glanced at another male I was heavily prosecuted. Eventually he became extremely verbally and physically abusive. The people in my life who loved me stepped in and shipped me to Texas. I found my way back to him and landed myself homeless at 17. He was very. very abusive but I never reported it. I always wish I would have, but the only time the cops were ever called was when other concerned citizens stepped in. And even though I HATED my Mother for going back over and over, I found myself repeating the same cycle.
And then I found myself pregnant at 17. Homeless, abused, and pregnant.
After I found out I was pregnant the abuse got worse. He was cheating on me constantly. I was never allowed to leave, but he cheated on me like crazy. Whenever I would call him out he would lash out on me. One time he threw me against a truck. I was about 7 months pregnant and he hurt me really bad that time. The nurses at the hospital knew, but he hovered over me and wouldn't leave me alone with them. And of course, I lied.
Well, that time he almost hurt our baby. I sat and thought about how angry I was at my Mom for what she put me through. How could I have been so angry at her and then do it to my own child?
That was when I decided to leave him. Once and for all, I was done. I had my son and left 2 months later. He wasn't happy with my decision and he stalked me. He was actually charged with stalking, and he still kept at it. One day I think he was trying to kill me. He eavesdropped on a conversation with a friend, and attacked me when I got off the phone. I fought back hard and a neighbor called the police. They took him to jail, and I finally sought professional help.
I was referred to Family Services Alliance for help. They did more than help, they saved me. They assisted me in filing a no contact order. I began counseling with one of the most wonderful humans to grace this planet. She helped me more than she will ever know. I was able to move forward and get help for myself and my son. The resources they had available to me helped me on a permanent level. I am proud to say that I survived physical and sexual assault and never went back. He tried throughout the years to continue but I never tolerated it. Eventually I gained sole custody of my son, and never saw him again.
Then one day, I saw his picture on the front page of the paper. I cried for days. If I only would have reported the multiple accounts of abuse. If only one of the few women he did it to would have turned him in. He may not have been able to hurt that poor little girl. I helped as much as I could by talking to detectives. But it didn't help soon enough.
Should've, could've, would've. We all have our regrets. I regret allowing him to walk away without making it harder for him. I kept myself and my child safe. And I never dealt with an abusive relationship again. As soon as I saw the signs I got out. I also saved my son from growing up in that environment.
I wish my Mom would have found the same help I did. She may be normal now. She may be coherent. But now she can barely talk and requires assistance to survive. She is only 52 years old.
Domestic violence and abuse often goes unreported. Many people choose to mind their own business rather than call the police. I always wonder if anyone tried to help my Mom when she was in the thick of it. I wish I would have known before it was too late.
PLEASE report these crimes. You could literally save a life!!
No comments:
Post a Comment