The Night I Decided to Stand Up for Myself

I didn't expect anything more than the usual on my way home from work.  Typical nervousness not knowing what I would find at home. I wanted a normal marriage, not stressful, with love returned.  Most nights he came home late. Drunk already having spent the evening with his alcoholic, pot smoking friend M. I didn't expect any different but was hopeful maybe tonight would be different and we could spend a quiet evening together eating dinner like normal people.

The Jeep was parked out front. I went inside to find the dog asleep but no AMD. Really unusual. He wasn't in the backyard either. I thought maybe he went for a walk hoping he would get into a pattern of regular exercise that would help him battle his alcoholism and depression.  I waited a half hour and then called his phone. No answer. I texted asking where he was and wanting to know what he wanted to do for dinner. No response. About 1/2 hour later he called and said he was riding his bike and would be home in 20 minutes. I figured I would wait for him to get home and we could figure out dinner. He seemed to be in an even mood at this time. Didn't sound like he had been drinking and seemed calm.

Almost two hours later he was still not home and it was getting quite late. I was hungry and concerned. I knew he was lying and drinking at this point. I tried calling again. Twice. No answer. Messaged that I guess we weren't having dinner at this point in the evening. 20 minutes later he called angry, and out of breath wanting to know what my problem was. I reminded him that two hours ago he told me he would be home in 20 minutes. He said he was farther on the bike trail than he thought and started asking me what we were doing for dinner because he was hungry. I told him we would talk when he got here. A few minutes later he called me again sounding wound up and whining about being hungry.  I had enough. I knew the evening would be disastrous so I felt I should just go to bed no matter how hungry I was and avoid trouble.

15 minutes later he came in the door, put his bike away and started screaming at me that I was a terrible wife because I didn't have dinner ready for him. I didn't bother to start in that I didn't know where he was and that from one night to the next he couldn't decide if he wanted me to cook for him or to never cook for him or my cooking was terrible. It was a game of confusion and control from one night to another. He became angrier and angrier that I was going to bed. I told him to just sleep on the couch and leave me alone. Nope. He came into the bedroom to harass me further and got undressed to take a shower. I asked him to use the other bathroom, the extra bedroom, please leave me alone.

As he got into the shower screaming at me in English and Spanish about how worthless I was my heart just ached. Tears streamed down my face at the abuse.  Inside I had been nervous all day because I was late for my period and wanted to talk to him about it. Wanted some reassurance from my partner. I finally blurted it out hoping it would stop him from belittling me.  Wrong. He became angry. Tore the shower curtain down and started swinging the rod at the lights, breaking glass, while he was still in the shower under the water.  He called me a whore. Insisted it wasn't his baby but the baby of my-ex-husband or "some Mexican. Not my son. What love is there here?" I broke inside deeply. And I was afraid. I asked him to leave or I would call the police. I had enough.  I continued to ask him to get dressed and leave while he berated me further. I had turned my ears off to the words coming out of his mouth. I grabbed his car keys and told him it was time to leave heading for the door. He jumped from the shower unclothed and began to chase me outside of the house. As I ran screaming into the front yard he grabbed my left shoulder and threw me to the ground as I threw his keys. He took my phone and went back into the house.

I was afraid but I didn't want to go to the neighbors. I wanted to give him a chance to leave on his own without having him arrested which I knew would be deportation.  Still trying to protect him over me.  I went inside for my phone and told him it was time to go.  He just laughed at me as he began to cook himself dinner. I saw his phone and grabbed it to try to call 911 but he had it locked and I couldn't figure out how to use it so I put it in my bedroom.  I went back to the kitchen and was firm and stood strong that I wanted him to leave. I grabbed my phone from the kitchen counter and repeated my request. I told him I didn't feel safe with him in the house and it was time to go. He just laughed and shook his head and told me to leave him alone he was on-call for the hospital. No. I had had enough.

It happened to fast. He just grabbed me by the shoulder and backed me up quickly against the wall to sit on a stool. So quickly, he slammed my head against the wall when I sat. He proceeded to slap me across the face as hard as he could with his open hand. I was stunned. The force of it took my breath away. I must have felt pain but I don't remember it. After hitting me a number of times he grabbed my hands pinning them above my head and came at me biting me on the face. Which was a shock to me and him. I saw him hesitate for a second like he was surprised by his action but it didn't stop him. I still held my phone in my hand although it was being crushed by his grip. He hit me again across the face and this time my head turned from the force in slow motion and I remember thinking that I couldn't believe this was happening. As everything came back to real time I said that it was enough and I turned away from him to call the police.  He began to hit me with an open hand on the head with such force it knocked me to the ground in the dining room. I couldn't count the number of times he hit me but even when I dropped my phone he didn't stop. He stood over me hitting me in the head and I felt like I had disconnected from my body and I knew if I didn't stop him that he was going to kill me. He was in some kind of rage. The force of the blows was knocking all of the strength out of me but somehow I began to scratch at his bare legs and I tried to grab his testicles. Something, anything to shock him enough to get him to stop. But he was hitting me so hard I didn't have the strength to make an impact.  All of a sudden I had enough clarity to offer him his phone. I told him if he stopped I would get his phone from the bedroom for him. And just like that, he stopped. And handed me my phone.  Calm. Unbelievable.

I have no idea how I stayed calm but I did. I went to the bedroom and gave him his phone.  I said as calmly as I could that I was calling the police now. His response? "Good. We will call them together."  I stayed calm until the 911 operator came on the line and I broke down. I could barely answer her questions in between the gulping sobs. He stayed calm and got dressed and went outside to sit and wait for the police like nothing had happened.

That night, he railed at the police that he had only pushed me and it was because I was cheating on him and was trying to extort him and his family for money.  No idea where that came from. None. Inside the officers were taking pictures of me. My face swollen, red, broken skin where he bit me. Broken skin on my foot where he threw me to the ground. They took pictures of the damage in the bathroom and all of the holes he had punched in the walls over the years, the doors he tore off the hinges, etc. 

I was in shock. Why? Why did he have to do this to me when I loved him so much? Why couldn't he talk to me like a normal human being. If he hated me so much, why didn't he just leave? I had given him plenty of opportunities. I had asked him to leave, I had even written him a check to buy a plane ticket. He had plane tickets he could have exchanged and left at any time.

The police that evening were wonderful.  They were so supportive and gave me lots of information for help and counseling and I was lucky in that.  The police officer that had been called to drive AMD to the county jail for holding came in the house and was livid. He looked at me and told me to be at the arraignment tomorrow and make sure the judge knew I was going to prosecute because he did not want to get called back to my house to find me dead.

After they took AMD, I just sat in the house with the dog. I don't think I slept more than an hour or two that night out of exhaustion. But, all of a sudden, I felt relief. It was over. I wasn't going to allow him to hurt me anymore. I still didn't realize how much he had hurt me at this point. But, then, I just felt free.

I apologize for the rambling nature, but I knew this would be a difficult thing to write. But, I needed to get it out there. And it was the most difficult thing I have ever done in my life. So, what's next? How do you get strong again? How do you get your power back? Next time, I will tell you what helped me begin to put myself and my life back together.

One Step at a Time

So, as well as I and my therapist consider I am doing, I still get impatient at the constant change in emotions I can experience in a day, even a few hours. I am told by my therapist, and the many, many women I have met who have gone through similar situations that this is completely normal.  Distraction, appears to be the order of the day.

In May, 2012, just a couple of months after AMD and I were married, I had to unexpectedly have spine surgery.  It was a serious disc rupture in which the spinal fluid was pressing on nerves to my legs cutting off the circulation. I had even started to drag my leg a little which my surgeon informed me was really bad. As a matter of fact, in his over 10,000 surgeries, he was excited to report that I was no doubt in the top 5 worst cases he had ever seen.  Apparently, grown men much larger than me normally roll and scream on the floor with an injury like I had. My response, "What good would that do me?" Anyway, it took two years to feel like I was getting back to normal.  A lot probably had to do with the unnecessary stress and lack of support at home.  But, I began an exercise regimen and worked on my eating habits.  It wasn't until early this year that I really started feeling strong again, and probably why I was finally able to decide that I had enough abuse because I deserved far better.

The secret to improvement is to take one step at a time.  If you try to change everything at once you will fail.  Choose one thing and work on that change and once it becomes a habit choose something else. Slow and steady wins the race. At least in this game.  I began working out again last week. I had a strong habit of working out 3-5 times a week for over a year. I loved it. It took work. I had to experiment with the best time of day.  I had to endure being laughed at by my own husband. I still have not put back on the exercise outfit I had saved up for from Athleta after gazing at their catalog for months because he made fun of me. But, it didn't stop me from working out and changing my eating habits. And I felt amazing. Clean eating mentally changed my mood, my energy, everything. And I'm working my way back to it. I will never eat garbage daily again. I was totally converted.

So, here I am again, working towards improvement. Next week, I focus back on the clean eating routine.  The following week I start adding a social activity.  Salsa dancing. Have been wanting to take lessons for years. And I thought it would be a good way to meet new people and help battle the anxiety I have had since the last beating.  I am excited. Uncomfortable, but excited.

Next time, I will begin telling the story about how I ended up here. Beginning with the night AMD was arrested.

Into Recovery

It has been awhile since my first post. And, honestly, I don't really remember it. It was three days after my husband was arrested and I was still in shock. Today, I am writing to you from a new home. Having sold almost everything I own to move somewhere new, safer, clean. It has been a long process and I will slowly tell everything that has happened over the next few weeks. I hope to write a few times a week. And hopefully, my story will help others. My husband is no longer in the country. I have been reconciled with my daughters and am moving forward one step at a time. Each week is a little better. Some days good, some days bad. I am seeing a counselor and receiving assistance from our state's Crime Victim Fund which has been a blessing. Anxiety comes and goes. This is the first time in my life that I am living alone, at 43.  It was difficult moving from my home of eighteen years, but at the same time, I found it continually difficult to live there after all that had occurred.  The injuries I had received from the last attack on May 7, left me with at least one broken molar, a mild concussion and extreme anxiety.  I will have to have two oral surgeries at least for an implant above the damaged molar and a root canal and crown.  Normally, I have never had a problem with these things, but due to the anxiety I am not doing well with having to allow someone to do something so intrusive and additional pain. It's mental. I'm strong and I will fight through it.

Unfortunately, my husband was allowed to leave the country on his own without signing dissolution paperwork. This was against my wishes, the wishes of the prosecutor and my husband's probation officer. The court lost track of my husband as no one was certain if he had left the country or not for over a month.  Eventually, I received his credit card statement in the mail and was able to determine that he had left the country and was hiding in Madrid, Spain for almost a month until he finally went home to his family in Alicante.  We were supposed to go there for vacation for a month beginning in early July.  I had a feeling my husband would hide from his family until the time we were supposed to arrive and then tell them that I had left him. Ever again playing the victim.  Little did he know that his family had contacted me to find out what was going on as they had not heard from him for almost two months. They also had contacted the Spanish Consulate who in turn contacted me wanting to know his whereabouts. As we will eventually discuss, this type of behavior, protecting reputation, etc., is typical in an abuser. Particularly, one with narcissistic personality disorder. I believe this profile may fit who we will just refer to as AMD.

Today, I am happy in my apartment. At least, relieved. I can live comfortably, peacefully, and that is something I have been unable to do for over two years. I grieve for the loss of time with my children, the hurt that has been caused to them. I hope that in my recovery, I can find some type of understanding of what was wrong with AMD that he was unable to communicate with me in a rational way and we could have peacefully ended the relationship. He was at best a severe alcoholic.  Easy answer, but not one that helps.  Because, there is something behind it.

For now, I have returned to exercising regularly. I am working on developing a regular habit of meditation and focusing on clean eating.  All of these help me to battle the depression and anxiety from the abuse and to feel centered and grounded. No longer focusing on the past or the future, but the present.  I don't always want to do these things, but I know they will help me get better and remember what an amazing person I am.  Although, physical abuse is damaging, verbal and emotional abuse is destroying. And that was the worst.  You can get better. You are not a victim. I don't like the term survivor either. I just am.

I'm writing to you as a woman fresh out of an abusive relationship. Verbal and physical abuse in the worst, and continuous forms. I'm writing to heal myself, but also because I've discovered how little support there is from the court system and how little people understand about abuse. I have lost friends and been alienated from family because of the abuse I suffered. Yes, I was an educated, and many people would say I was stupid and should have known better. But, I until you are in the middle of it, you cannit comprehend the damage and disability it does to a person.

We are all human. We want love and companionship. My story, as I tell it, is not unique. Unfortunately, it is common and most times untold. It is embarrassing. But, hopefully, it willtake power away from the perpetratorsbof the abuse and someone will be brave enough yo stand up for themself or others. You are not alone.