Another trip around the sun is done. As in every year of life, situations have either been a blessing or a lesson. This last year was probably one of the loneliest, self-finding, white knuckling, dice tossing, flight or fight years I’ve EVER had.
The strength it took me to walk away from a narcissist that I’d chosen to allow to work my strings was harder than anyone knew, or knows for that matter. Most don’t know the trauma, fear, loss, injuries, hurt and damage that I went through. I lost my home. Spent hours a day holding my ears while he yelled lies he believed and punished me. Said awful things to me that rolled off my back, but stuck to my being like wet seaweed. Fourteen 911 calls. The man, I believe, is possessed by a drug that is sinister. And oh, did I love that man.
We worked together doing rental repair, lawns, odd jobs. He, in my eyes, was a MAN. Rugged, hard worker, loyal, protective of me, humble, listened and cared. By my side. Aware of my needs and comfort. But when that demon came out, he would overpower me. His whole appearance changed. He’d beat me down emotionally, in my face screaming about things that I never did. Crazed. And if I tried to calm him down, beg him to listen, it got louder. Until I tried to get away from him, and he’d consider that assault, and I’d get hurt. He wouldn’t let me leave.
Out of fear, anger, exasperation, I would fight my way out my door. He threw me out of his truck 9 times in a stretch of 3 miles. Only to threaten me to get back in the truck. He hid my keys in the yard and called me an idiot when I cried cause I couldn’t find them. He turned the light out when I was in the shower. He never turned the TV off so we could sleep. He referenced me liking all the hurts I’d told him I’d experienced. He accused me of horrible things and wouldn’t allow me to say anything. He’d back me up, yelling , until I fell over something- once into the sunken tub. Then he would turn all the lights off, make me sit, and listen to him ask me why I made him that way.
He has taken me to a graveyard and terrorized me. He’s chased me in his truck. I’ve had him literally stuck in my car window because he was grabbing me through my car window and I rolled the window up on him. He’s never failed to terrorize me upon spending good time with him. And he sucked the happy, silly, friendly, Anne right outta me as I began to question my own self as to what he called “entertaining” people. He hit me ONCE in 2 yrs. Otherwise he would sinisterly talk/yell in my face for hours…get so mad he would softly yank my hair, finger in my face, squeeze my cheeks, pull softly on one tooth (that I lost eventually, a full adult healthy tooth) …until I snapped and then the fight was on.
But the demon I saw will never leave my memory. The fast moving, shallow eyes, hissing, spitting, evil, terrifying demon that preyed on me didn’t kill me, didn’t paralyze me, didn’t win the fight. I was born a strong, fight for my life, fearless woman and he, while teaching and giving me submissiveness to who I saw as a real MAN…gentleMAN..was prepping me to be his victim.
In the end, he is being charged with 3 felony charges, breaking a protective order and 2 misdemeanor charges. 6 domestic violence instances where I was hurt. I have been in therapy since 2018. Duel personality disorder, PTSD, mentally unstable (YA THINK??!!). I take Adderall (pharmaceutical amphetamine) to replace my body’s need for a year of being in my home with him, doors closed, windows shut, meth smoke, no visitors. I take Trazodone to sleep. Prazosin for nightmares. Celebrex for arthritis in my injuries. I just got myself off of anxiety meds. I am on disability. The fight in me has fizzled. I flinch when anyone’s near me. Memories shrink me to floor level. The film never stops. And my love for this man, who is in that shell somewhere…just screws me up completely.
So, 2020, I spent healing. Away from him. In a quiet room, in a quiet house, where Anne could breathe..cry..rage..hurt..and almost heal. Heartbroken extremely. Scared of people. Looked at from family/friends as a crazy, rebellious, addict who hurt her family, after living a great successful life taking care of everyone and doing all I could to give them all the tools to never end up as I did. Crazy..huh?
My therapist would cry. He is a 20 year veteran of the D.E.A. turned therapist to help victims understand perpetrators and the danger they are REALLY in. I never saw it…like he did. He wanted to refuse to council me because he saw me as the next dead victim. And he couldn’t live through watching me die.
And I could never see me happy, unless I got through to my abuser and we worked things out.
I finally escaped the abuse when I lost my home, a result of not being able to work. I think he’d hoped we’d live in his truck, like we did before I settled for a trailer for us to live in, during my divorce proceedings, after leaving a 20 year marriage.
During the abuse, I would cry and plead with him to stop before he went to prison. He never cared. His parents supported him and left me with a destroyed home, angry at ME for what I’d done to their son.
My advice to you, if you’re in a domestic violence situation:
- He will not change. He’s an abuser. YOU know in your heart and mind that he is.
- Get help through therapy. Don’t rely on him to EVER help you get well. He’s invested in your breakdown, not your strength.
- It’s gonna take a long time to move on after being abused. Somehow, we tend to gravitate to our abuser like a moth to a bug zapper. Find someone who understands and tolerates that aspect, their friendship will nurture what you’ve needed from your abuser.
- Nurture yourself and take advantage of all the help you can get. In time, you’ll rebuild and return.
My day in court will come. Society believes we should be on that stand, ANGRY victims who have been violated…when in reality we are loving partners who fought not for ourselves, but for men who we loved and tried to save. I will be heartbroken over losing the love of my life, ashamed for loving him, accused of “baiting” him, and drilled for being confused about dates, events of abuse, and self-defense. Like the abuse wasn’t enough, right?
You didn’t cause a man to abuse you. You exhibited love and desperation to an ABUSER. You can’t be responsible for his actions..no matter WHAT. And violence is against the law. You’re worth more.
If they convict him, it will break my heart when they take him away. His parents may not be alive when he gets out. He will have no one. But if they don’t, he will live to abuse again. Maybe me. For the last time.
It’s not worth it.
I can’t see ever trusting a man again. Therapy assures me I will.
Time will tell I guess.
I’m praying for you all…even your abuser. And families.
We are survivors that few understand.
You can do it! 💗.
