Well now, hard work has finally paid off. I FINALLY got my bonus at work and now sit here (on my death bed =) *will the flu ever go away?*) with a new laptop! Woo Hoo!
Ok, this means so much more to me than just a new laptop. With my bonus, I had originally planned to pay my bills, buy some new clothes for work and get a new tattoo. Well let's say the tattoo is still going to happen but taxes are going to pay for that. This computer is a real big deal for me.
This is going to turn into a longer post than I originally planned but I feel I need to get this all out. I do this for myself and to keep healing and growing from my past. My past is what's made me who I am today and I've touched on this before so here it goes.....
It'll be two years come Wednesday that my now Ex-husband tried to kill me. J and I had me in highschool and had a very unhealthy relationship (as I see now) but enormous love for each other. We overcame a lot of struggles together in the 12 years shared but I learned more than he did with every one.
From his house burning down, to drug and alcohol addictions, abuse from his father, to a car accident that should have killed him and ended his dream of the military; I was there by his side like a rock. It's what you do when you love. I took abuse from him too many times to count and while I can remember every last blow to my ego, self-esteem, body and heart; he has memory problems and doesn't remember or chooses not to all the bad.
I do want to say here that in between the bad times and fights, J was an amazing husband. I fell in love with him because he took time to do all the little things to show me love. The biggest was when lil man was born I had an emergency C-section and a week after it got infected and I was left with a gaping whole in my stomach that had to heal from the inside out. The first 3 months of lil man's life are nothing but memories of a home care nurse and a lot of pain. J stepped up and took care of us both like a real man. He did it all: worked, cleaned, ran me and lil man to doctors appointments, cooked most the time and took care of a very sick wife and very new baby. He was my hero and the love of my life.
Lil man wasn't but a year old and we were having a lot of trouble. We couldn't agree on anything. We both thought each other should be doing a lot of things differently and we argued a lot. It turned into him drinking more and going back to drugs. I wanted to leave and let him get a taste of life without me. I found myself pregnant once again. When I told him he was definitely more excited than I was. He became my husband again and I thought maybe he start treating me better and for good.
KK was about four months old when it started getting bad and stayed bad. He worked all day and found every reason not to come home or most days came home and did very little with us. If I got a babysitter to try to reconnect with him it consisted of ordering food and him sleeping or even me sitting at home alone while he was out. Trying to talk to him about this brought on the fights. Then again there were times I did nothing and found him in my face or hitting me.
The beginning of November I left him but was back right before Thanksgiving. Left again the second week of December and was back 2 days before Christmas. Every time was promises we'd go to counseling and he loved us and wanted our family together where they belonged. January, the night of the Ohio State vs Florida game I found myself locked in the garage as he stood in the kitchen and broke all my dishes yelling and screaming and threatening to beat me like never before. That's when he left. I threw him out.
He stayed a few blocks away at his grandparents house and came over to get the kids for a couple hours most nights. I tried to get ahold of counselors and help for us both. I no longer trusted him and feared he would kill me. He spent a lot of nights drinking and calling me late at night. One minute the conversation was how much he loved me and he was sorry the next was I wasn't good enough and no one would ever want me.
I had been up late one night online looking for a job, talking to friends and just killing time because I never slept any longer. I received a call from him, drunk and begging to come home. I told him call me in the morning and we would talk and he could come over for the day and see how it went. At 1:30 am I logged off the computer and at the same time the door from the garage into the kitchen was kicked in. There he was, drunk, hurt, mad and crying with a rage in his eyes more fierce than ever before. Instantly the computer was on the ground shattered into a million pieces. I can still sometimes hear his words,'"I hope you're ready to die because I'm going to kill you." and it began.
What I remember clear as day *and wish I didn't* was laying face down on the floor looking out the back glass sliding door, the phone about 3 feet beside me open to 911 *I managed to dial it without him noticing as soon as he came through the door* him sitting on my back, arm in a choke hold around my throat, my body aching like never before, crying, unable to scream anymore, looking out into the blackness praying a cop would be coming or anyone for that matter. I could beg him to stop any longer and I couldn't breathe. His words, "I hope you kissed your kids goodnight. You're never going to see them again. I came to kill you." I tried and tried to get away or scream but he tightened with every jerk. I saw myself in the reflection of the glass when I thought it was done. I saw my kids and I saw him. Then I thought I was done. Everything started going black and I saw stars. My lungs burned and my body ached. I passed out.
I woke lying on the floor and turned to see where he was. He was standing smashing more things and I started to get up. He turned and lined up to kick me in the head. I don't know how or why but it honest to God felt as if someone grabbed my legs and pulled me back as his foot missed my head. I was searching to find my glasses and was struggling to get away from his hold when he hit the ground. He snapped back to reality and started crying saying he loved me then he noticed the phone and picked it up. He clicked the receiver off and started crying asking if I called the police. Then rage hit again. His eyes went black. "If I'm going to jail it's going to be worth it" and at me he came again.
I was scrambling to get away and he was scrambling to kill me as the phone rang. "This is the 911 operator" I heard the voice say. "Do yo need help." Through the tears I found my sarcasm and told her "what part about he's going to kill me didn't you hear?" In seconds the house was surrounded by police and off to jail he went. He did plea guilty and spent 28 days in jail.
I stayed at the house and started trying to figure out what to do. Jail came and went. We were talking and he was seeing the kids. I finally moved in with my sister. I would stay at the house during the day while he worked and would leave when he came home. That way we both had time with the kids and didn't interrupt their routines. Then it came again.
It was in early April. The kids were napping and I was in the bedroom on the phone with Holly. He said he was working late. He came home drunk again. The second he stepped in the door he was at it. I grabbed my coat and purse and the whole time remained on the phone. I got out to my van him cussing me the whole way. As I got in he was screaming I wasn't going anywhere. He came running with a coffee can filled with sand ( we used for cigarette butts) and threw it against my passenger window. The whole time yelling he was going to kill me and every other cuss word he could think to call me.
I put the van in drive and started to pull away. he grabbed ahold of the van. I tapped the breaks and he started beating the window and jerking at the handle so I pulled away and down he went. I looked back in my rear view mirror and there he was. On the ground, bleeding, not moving at first. When he finally stood he was dazed, stumbling around. By this time I was on the phone with the 911 operator. He needed an ambulance. Off he went though, jumped the fence and through the field in the church, but he didn't make it far. The cops and paramedics found him passed out in the filed.
Jail wouldn't take him for the severity of his injuries *broken jaw, broken shoulder and a couple missing teeth* The whole time I'm hurting that he is hurt and I hurt him. This time I was gone for good. My family turned their back for whatever reasons and there was Holly. She took us in.
When I left it was me, the kids, almost all there clothes and toys and my clothes, my old computer and that's it. I had nothing but my life and my children and was very lost. After being a stay at home mom for three years; I found myself starting from the ground up. No job! No money! No place of my own to live and two very small children.
That's when hard work began....
Two years later here I am. Working a job I really do love most days. My own apartment. My Life! Goals and a brand new laptop to obtain them. I can now start back to school! I want my degree in Psychology specializing in addiction.
What a long way to tell you huh?
Today I sit here as a survivor and not a victim! I am not proud of everything I did in my life especially quite a few things I did in these past two years. It took losing the only life I knew *being a wife and mother* to find myself and my strength, my security and mostly my pride! I shared this because it's the path I've walked in life and it's the biggest part of who I am. Also, because these memories have come up strong again this year. I found myself last night once again wondering what I did or could have done to kept my marriage together. I do love him and always will but I remind myself everyday that I deserve better and so do the kids and we have it. I may fall asleep alone every night but I wake everyday thankful to be alive.
J and I get along today! We will always both love each other but he is still the same man. He can be amazing, loving and caring. He has a side of him I hope he's learned to deal with. I will always remember the good we did have but maybe all the bad we faced started killing us both a long time ago. I do hope he's learned as much about himself as I have myself.
And the tattoo yet to come is symbolic to all of this as well as my heart and passion in life now. When I finally get it I'll post.
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2 comments:
That took a lot or you to write and I think it was written perectly :)
You are such a strong woman! I hope that you realize how strong you are, and I hope that you one day find that special person that truly deserves to be loved by you.
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