These past twenty months have been so hard for me. Exactly twenty months and one week ago, my youngest daughter's dad served me with custody suit papers. Like any normal person, I think I am the last person worthy of such a suit but nevertheless, we have been in and out of court since then and have yet to come to a final ruling. However, the judge granted him as the domiciliant parent, which really broke my heart and my spirit. Since then, I have felt so lost.
I began working in Louisiana after graduating from a community college in my home town. I thought I was moving to better myself, but I have had problem after problem since I have been here. The custody suit was more like the straw that broke the camel's back. The irony of it all was, I had gotten saved the spring before the move then I moved, and was right back in the way of the world, and after the suit began I began to question my faith.
In the course of the twenty months, I have lost so much. My good image, my sense of home, my actual apartment, friends, and most importantly my faith. I had began to question if God existed at all.
No, I did not move to Louisiana to become a stripper, yet it is what I found myself doing to make a living. Yet, that lifestyle and trying to be a Christian has never mixed, so I was already in a battle before the custody issue. However, with all the turn of events in my life, I began to feel myself gravitate more toward actually BEING a stripper which is the total opposite of what I wanted. I felt that God obviously did not care about me if he would allow my daughter to be taken from me. For that reason, I did not see a reason to continue to try to be a Christian, but from time to time I tried.
This has been one of the hardest battles I have fought. I wanted to just completely let go and say, " God does not care about me. Why should I continue to praise him and pray to him?" I tried talking with some of my friends as well as some the women I saw as mentors, and they could not help me. Some talked to me about faith, which was something totally foreign to me. No one had ever talked to me about faith growing up. I tried talking to my pastor, but how can you tell your pastor, you have began to question God. I tried visiting other churches and thought I had stumbled upon something when I found a church with a prophetess, but no one could tell me anything. Sometimes I wondered if I was asking the right questions, but now thinking back on it, I am sure I was not. I remember getting upset because I could not catch the Holy Ghost. I needed to feel something to know that He really existed.
The answer did not come fast enough, and I just wondered away. I stopped questioning and decided God had forgot about me. My family was telling me to pray, and sometimes to keep them happy I would say I was, but that had long ago stopped. I just felt like God could not care because I was going through something in every aspect of my life. The business partnership I had invested so much time into had collapsed. Dancing was not really paying the way it used to. My other kids were unhappy about the move. It seemed like every plan I came up with, failed. Even now, I say I am on Plan M. I have not attended church in months.
However I did decide to start my magazine, and though it is still moving slow, so slow that I still have to dance, I realize I have found something that I love, something that I am passionate about. That gave me some peace, but of course I was still worrying.
A couple of months ago, I met Lorna Lewis, author of The Gift of an Abundant Life . I liked her positive way of thinking and wanted her to speak at a session I was trying to put together. Therefore, I decided to read her book. To be honest, I have yet to finish reading the book, because of my schedule, but I love it. I was so amazed at Lorna's faith and she spoke in way anyone could relate to, but at the same time, I still felt nothing. Whenever I looked around me, things were only getting worse.
In the beginning, I was questioning God, but by this time, I wondered if He even existed. Last week my car broke down like it does every semester, and I have been trapped in the house. I was so upset. I actually came out and begin to tell people what I had began to think, my thoughts and opinions about God. Over the weekend, I read more of The Gift of An Abundant Life .I decided to just give faith another try like 'O well, what do I have to lose when I have already lost everything as it is?'
Now I am not trying to act like my life has changed so dramatically or that I have changed so dramatically, but today I witnessed two events that have made me believe. I have been trying with all my might to get my magazine off the ground. This morning, I got an invite to be a guest on a radio show. I accepted the invitation but I was waiting on them to send me a response saying it was an error. Instead, they responded with a the information I needed to provide them with a schedule and so on. I was so appalled. Compared to what I want it to be, my magazine is so small, so this is a big deal to me. It is free publicity!
The second event was tonight just as I was laying down after saying my prayers, something told me to check my emails. I was so surprised to see, that a publicist from California had contacted me about featuring her client. She had even attached an extensive portfolio with it. I was so flattered, and the real kicker was the client is a motivational speaker! Honestly not even three full hours ago, I was looking for a motivational speaker to network with, because am interested in speaking.
When I first started dancing, I said I would only dance two years, because I had no intentions of making that into a career. My two years were up October 1, so I have been trying to decide what I am going to do. Since I am now in school and publishing a magazine, I really do not have time for another job, but I am tired of dancing and trying to explain to people. I have been toying with the idea of speaking about my experiences, which is why I was looking for someone with knowledge in this field, so I strongly feel that this is a message as well.
I assume some people are thinking these are such small events that they could mean anything, but to me, someone who had really lost faith, they meant so much. Knowing me, I am sure I was on the verge of trying something I would regret. Maybe God knew that too. Thank you Lorna for inspiring me, and I am so proud to say God has not forgotten about me.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Anyone Can Be a Victim, Even Me
With October being Domestic Violence Awareness Month, I decided to talk about my own experience with domestic violence. I think my story is a little different because the violence itself did hurt, but it was actually the pain of no one believing me and/ or taking any action so that I could have justice served that hurt the most. In the end, I grew so frustrated I actually blocked most of the incidents out and forgot them, because the thought of letting someone abuse me both mentally and physically is a hard pill to swallow, especially when you pride yourself in being an intelligent person. Anyone can be a victim, even me...
When I was nineteen, I began dating a former classmate. Because he was a year older than me, he and I only knew each other in passing until we began working together. For legal reasons, we can call him Tim. In the beginning, Tim was very nice. He always had me laughing with his sense of humor. Though we were both young, we decided to get a place together.
In the beginning, I did not notice how controlling he was. Now that I think back on it, there were small things that he would do that perhaps should have warned me. Tim always had to have things go his way. When we moved into our house, he did not want me to bring in some of my nice things from my previous apartment. Instead, he insisted that we sleep on a bed "loaned" to us by one of his relatives. He was this way about other little things in the house as well.
As we began settling into our house, he began to complain about my friends. At that time, my ex best friend and I were really close, we did everything together. He would tell me, " I am not saying "soandso" is a hoe, but the people she hang with do hoeish stuff, and I can't have you hanging with them." At first. I was like I am not giving up my friends for anyone, but his argument was females should not act like that when they are in serious relationships. Since I had not had too many serious relationships, I began to believe him. I did not want to lose him, so I began to distance myself from my friends. I worked two jobs and went to the community college, and at that time I already had two kids, so I did not have much free time anyway.
Then Tim began to try to isolate me from everyone. Our little budget only allowed us to have one cell phone at that time, which was actually mine, because I came into the relationship with it. Instead of Tim leaving the phone with me, he would insist that he took it with him. Soon no one even called for me anymore, and from sneaking and checking the caller ID, I realized when they did, he never told me.
The first time Tim hit me, was during a Sunday football game. He used to bet with his friends, so they were all at the house as well. I remember walking into the living room and walking back into the bedroom and everything being fine. Then Tim walked back into the bedroom,and it was as if his mood had suddenly changed. I think I made a joke, and I guess he did not like it because within the blink of an eye, Tim had me pent against the wall choking me. He was maybe about 210 lbs in comparison to my 110 lbs, so I could not really fight back, but even if I could have, I would not have done so, because I was so stunned. I was trying to understand why he was doing this. I was so terrified. I remember my feet were not even touching the ground. Luckily one of his friends saw him, because he had never closed the door behind him upon walking into the room. Later, he tried to tell me he just got upset because his team was losing.
Tim and I both worked at a restaurant, and most of the time, I would come in on my days off to work with him. One night, I got off early and happen to run into my best friend at a convience store. I had not saw her in a while so we talked for maybe an hour along the side of the store. The funny thing is Tim and I had switched vehicles, so I was in his raggedy car, and he was in my truck. Therefore, I would know my truck if I saw it, and seems like he would know his car as well. While my friend and I were sitting at the store, I saw Tim ride past. I thought he had saw me, but when he never turned around, I assumed I would just meet him at the house.
I made it home before he did, and began to take a bath. Tim came home while I was in the tub and began beating on the door. I wrapped a towel around me and came to the door. I realized I had forgotten and locked the screen door, but Tim accused me of trying to lock him out because I was trying to clean up after messing around. I remember I had been in a good mood, so I laughed it off, not realizing how upset he was. He claimed he had been looking for me and I told him, he had rode right past me, but he insisted I was out cheating. Some kind of way it got physical, and he snatched the towel off of me and pushed me out of the house naked. I covered myself by standing between the two doors but you could still see through the screen door because the top part was glass and then of course it was the wire mesh, however we lived in a kind of quiet neighborhood, where traffic was not heavy so that saved me some embarassment. I had to beg and plead with him for him to let me back in the house. Of course, he apologized and smoothed things over some kind of way.
It was as if though I had become afraid of him, I still did not want to leave. I thought this was normal. I kept thinking maybe it was the stress from the bills and us being on our own. Another reason why I stayed, though it might sound crazy, though I cared for Tim my heart was with someone else, but since I could not be with him, I had to be with someone, so why not Tim? Gradually he began to incorporate small forms of abuse into our day to day schedule. He might step on my foot and then stand there or push me out of the bed onto the floor. He used his size to make me feel inferior. He never left bruises or anything.
He then began to pressure me about my family. He said my mama was in our business too much. At the same time, my mama was complaining about him and saying that it seemed as if he had me under a spell. I grew tired of going between the two, and Tim finally told me I needed to choose either my family or him. Like an idiot, I chose him. I gave my mama back the truck I had and stopped speaking to her.
The abuse continued on. It grew to be more mental for a while. At the time, I did not know he was seeing other girls, so I think maybe as his relationships grew with them, he tormented me a little less. He did not have to get physical with me, if he was being physical else where.
The holidays were approaching and I began to grow tired of sitting in the house alone. Although my mama and I were not talking, she would keep my kids partly because she did not trust Tim. I did not mind, because Tim was always saying my son was too spoiled and he did not like my daughter crying. I decided I wanted to interact with people again. This interaction is how I found out about Tim cheating. We broke up for a little while. I kind of had something like a Tyler Perry breakthrough. I both urinated and deficated all over and in his clothes and shoes. That is one my happiest moments with him. Of course he called the police on me, and his family began to tell them I was crazy, my whole family was. I did not care.
In time, we got back together, and I moved into my own place. All the time Tim accused me of cheating, I honestly was not, but my heart was elsewhere. During that time, Tim and I were broke up, I began to see the man I did love. We will call him Devin. Well Devin was in a relationship of his own, so I decided that in order for me to be able to still see Devin and not stress over him being with someone else, I would continue to see Tim.
Unfortunately, I ended up pregnant again. It seem logical that the baby was Tim's because he was my boyfriend. I hated the thought of that. I felt really trapped then. I did not like the thought of forever having him in my life. He used the pregnancy to his advantage. For a while, he did not hit me or engage any other foolishness, but he that was his way to linger around and come by my house and use all my luxuries, yet you could tell I had grown. When he threatened to leave and so on, I assured him that he could. I did not think of him as my world anymore. He had long ago began to disgust me.
As I said in the beginning, Tim and I were classmates but I did not really know him. Toward our first major break up my mama had began to tell me that she had heard he was using drugs. I did not believe her, because he and I were together so much, I thought it would impossible for him to find time to do such. When he became violent I thought back on what she said, but it still did not make sense to me. I kept thinking if he was on some kind of drugs, I would know or I would find some kind of clue.
The first clue came a little before our first major break up. One night he and I got off work, and as we were getting out of the car, he just passed out. I did not know what to do. I called the police and then his mother. I noticed when both she and the policeman got there that there seemed to be some kind of unspoken conversation going on. Tim had come to, and insisted on not going to the hospital, but he and his mama kept whispering, and the policeman kept saying, "Tim, I been knowing you a long time, are you sure you are alright?" I began to question then. Tim knew how I felt about drugs, so I guess that is why he hid it so well.
By the time I got pregnant, Tim admitted that he had "tried" powder before, but he was not a habitual user. He would go on and on complaining about how he was tired of people stereotyping him, his frieinds, and neighborhood. Sometimes I felt really bad for him, but I was no longer in love with him. I let him come around to avoid being pregnant alone and he was always complaining about how his family mistreated him, although they all had seem to come together on the issue of me. Everyone said I was crazy and he should leave me alone. No one ever said he was wrong about anything.
We both had our own places so that helped keep confusion down, but it seemed like if I went by his place he would get crazy all over again. Once we were arguing about something and I fell off his porch trying to get away from him. The most memorable incident was one time we were arguing he kicked me out of his house and then ran out to my car to continue the argument. When I tried to drive away, he tried to pull me out of the car through the window by my neck. It just so happened that his landlord was walking into the office and saw him. She hollered out for him to stop. and he let me go. Once I caught my breath, I was gone of course. That day I pressed charges against him. This time he had actually left bruises on my neck and had broken my herringbone chain, so I used that as evidence.
We did not talk for months after this. His family said I was trouble. At that time, I did not have much of a family to defend me because my mother was in prison at the time. Tim moved out of state, and I went on about my life. I was glad he was gone, because I discovered he was using drugs more than he claimed. That explained why his family treated him the way they did or so he thought they did. I think that was more his guilt eating at him.
I was unsure about what to do with the baby approaching. I was caring on my affair with Devin, but he seemed oblivious to the fact that the baby could have been his, so I never said anything to him about it. In the beginning, he had told me that we both knew the best thing for me to do was have an abortion.
A little before my daughter arrived, Tim began to call me again. He said he would come back into town when the baby was born. I remember calling him when the time came, and he claimed he was headed to the bus station. Then he claimed his mama was coming. She called me and said she could not make it, but let her know if I needed anything. In the end, I had my daughter alone in a hospital in another city where I knew no one.
Tim came into town a little after she came home, and for a while things were fine. Then I found out about someone he had been cheating with and another baby, and things changed again. He had been fined for the charges I had pressed against him, so I guess that is why he did not get too extreme. However, when my car broke down, he told me his mama would sell me hers for $500. She would give it to me for such a great price,because he and I were together. I gave Tim $500 for the car, but as soon as we got it, I began to feel like I had made a mistake. He never wanted me to drive it, because he claimed something needed to be fixed, and hell it was so raggedy, I did not want to drive it. It had only been a couple of days, and I decided I wanted my money back, but Tim just disappeared.
I tried calling his mother and at first she would not answer. By this time, my mama had gotten out, so she finally reached her. His mother told my mother, she never sold me that car, and she never recieved any money from him. She claimed she would try to get the money from him. To this day, I never got my $500 back. Tim made an appearance to my house one night claiming he was getting some things. As quickly as it always seem to happen, he had me on the wall choking me. Other times, I remember my only thoughts being questions of why, but I so clearly remember thinking this night, 'he is going to kill me with my baby here on the bed sleeping and my mama and kids in the living room watching TV.' He was so strong that I never thought of trying to fight him back, and I was too afraid to make a sound. I imagined him instantly breaking my neck. He took pleasure in my fear of him. I guess after he had saw all he needed to see, he let me fall to the floor and walked out of the house. That was the last time, I allowed myself to be alone with him, and I suppose that was what I needed to say I was done. He had not ever scared me like that before as many times as I had found myself in that position with him.
The very last time Tim put his hands on me was at a club. He saw me talking with another guy and like before when I said he would step on my foot or something subtle, he reached out to shake another man's hand who was nearby and hit me along the side of my head, hard enough to make me step back.
I tried pressing charges again, but unlike the last time when he pled guilty before, he pled not guilty this time, so we had to go to court. The majority of Tim's family worked in law enforcement, so that is partly why I took a lot of things. That along with the fact that my family has a reputation for being crazy and my being embarassed kept me quiet, but the thought of him terrorizing me even when we were not together, made me realize I would just have to deal with it and face him in court. We did a little trial thing, whereas we both were represented by public defenders, but I sensed that the judge and the attorneys were biased. My own attorney made me feel stupid and had not done a good job preparing me. The guy I had been talking with that night claimed he would come as a witness but never showed up. Then Tim was sleeping with the club's security guard's daughter, so all the security people spoke against me. Their argument was if he hit me, why hadn't I came to them? No one had reported anything. I was too embarassed to come to them, and I was afraid he might make a scene.
In the end, the judge said we just need to stay away from each other. We were too young to be doing all that fighting. To this day, I still cry remembering this, because no one believed me. When I told people back home about the things he used to do, everyone always got silent like he had already spoken to them or something, either they were thinking 'not cool Tim!' I can only speak so freely now, because I know for other reasons I will not mention, they might think back on what I said and believe me now.
I suppose most people do not want to discuss abuse anyway. I am a little embarassed to say that I have experienced it, but I hope that maybe someone will read this and realize they are in a similar situation and will get out. Tim was already a very angry person when I met him. I did not realize this at first, but I think this is where most of the mental abuse came from. When he was under the influence, the physical abuse started. I remember stories he used to tell me about abusing animals and how he used to fight dogs. I suppose I should have recognized his love for violence then. I guess I thought I was an exception to the rule and did not see myself as a victim. I decided to include these tips:
http://www.helpguide.org/mental/domestic_violence_abuse_help_treatment_prevention.htm
When I was nineteen, I began dating a former classmate. Because he was a year older than me, he and I only knew each other in passing until we began working together. For legal reasons, we can call him Tim. In the beginning, Tim was very nice. He always had me laughing with his sense of humor. Though we were both young, we decided to get a place together.
In the beginning, I did not notice how controlling he was. Now that I think back on it, there were small things that he would do that perhaps should have warned me. Tim always had to have things go his way. When we moved into our house, he did not want me to bring in some of my nice things from my previous apartment. Instead, he insisted that we sleep on a bed "loaned" to us by one of his relatives. He was this way about other little things in the house as well.
As we began settling into our house, he began to complain about my friends. At that time, my ex best friend and I were really close, we did everything together. He would tell me, " I am not saying "soandso" is a hoe, but the people she hang with do hoeish stuff, and I can't have you hanging with them." At first. I was like I am not giving up my friends for anyone, but his argument was females should not act like that when they are in serious relationships. Since I had not had too many serious relationships, I began to believe him. I did not want to lose him, so I began to distance myself from my friends. I worked two jobs and went to the community college, and at that time I already had two kids, so I did not have much free time anyway.
Then Tim began to try to isolate me from everyone. Our little budget only allowed us to have one cell phone at that time, which was actually mine, because I came into the relationship with it. Instead of Tim leaving the phone with me, he would insist that he took it with him. Soon no one even called for me anymore, and from sneaking and checking the caller ID, I realized when they did, he never told me.
The first time Tim hit me, was during a Sunday football game. He used to bet with his friends, so they were all at the house as well. I remember walking into the living room and walking back into the bedroom and everything being fine. Then Tim walked back into the bedroom,and it was as if his mood had suddenly changed. I think I made a joke, and I guess he did not like it because within the blink of an eye, Tim had me pent against the wall choking me. He was maybe about 210 lbs in comparison to my 110 lbs, so I could not really fight back, but even if I could have, I would not have done so, because I was so stunned. I was trying to understand why he was doing this. I was so terrified. I remember my feet were not even touching the ground. Luckily one of his friends saw him, because he had never closed the door behind him upon walking into the room. Later, he tried to tell me he just got upset because his team was losing.
Tim and I both worked at a restaurant, and most of the time, I would come in on my days off to work with him. One night, I got off early and happen to run into my best friend at a convience store. I had not saw her in a while so we talked for maybe an hour along the side of the store. The funny thing is Tim and I had switched vehicles, so I was in his raggedy car, and he was in my truck. Therefore, I would know my truck if I saw it, and seems like he would know his car as well. While my friend and I were sitting at the store, I saw Tim ride past. I thought he had saw me, but when he never turned around, I assumed I would just meet him at the house.
I made it home before he did, and began to take a bath. Tim came home while I was in the tub and began beating on the door. I wrapped a towel around me and came to the door. I realized I had forgotten and locked the screen door, but Tim accused me of trying to lock him out because I was trying to clean up after messing around. I remember I had been in a good mood, so I laughed it off, not realizing how upset he was. He claimed he had been looking for me and I told him, he had rode right past me, but he insisted I was out cheating. Some kind of way it got physical, and he snatched the towel off of me and pushed me out of the house naked. I covered myself by standing between the two doors but you could still see through the screen door because the top part was glass and then of course it was the wire mesh, however we lived in a kind of quiet neighborhood, where traffic was not heavy so that saved me some embarassment. I had to beg and plead with him for him to let me back in the house. Of course, he apologized and smoothed things over some kind of way.
It was as if though I had become afraid of him, I still did not want to leave. I thought this was normal. I kept thinking maybe it was the stress from the bills and us being on our own. Another reason why I stayed, though it might sound crazy, though I cared for Tim my heart was with someone else, but since I could not be with him, I had to be with someone, so why not Tim? Gradually he began to incorporate small forms of abuse into our day to day schedule. He might step on my foot and then stand there or push me out of the bed onto the floor. He used his size to make me feel inferior. He never left bruises or anything.
He then began to pressure me about my family. He said my mama was in our business too much. At the same time, my mama was complaining about him and saying that it seemed as if he had me under a spell. I grew tired of going between the two, and Tim finally told me I needed to choose either my family or him. Like an idiot, I chose him. I gave my mama back the truck I had and stopped speaking to her.
The abuse continued on. It grew to be more mental for a while. At the time, I did not know he was seeing other girls, so I think maybe as his relationships grew with them, he tormented me a little less. He did not have to get physical with me, if he was being physical else where.
The holidays were approaching and I began to grow tired of sitting in the house alone. Although my mama and I were not talking, she would keep my kids partly because she did not trust Tim. I did not mind, because Tim was always saying my son was too spoiled and he did not like my daughter crying. I decided I wanted to interact with people again. This interaction is how I found out about Tim cheating. We broke up for a little while. I kind of had something like a Tyler Perry breakthrough. I both urinated and deficated all over and in his clothes and shoes. That is one my happiest moments with him. Of course he called the police on me, and his family began to tell them I was crazy, my whole family was. I did not care.
In time, we got back together, and I moved into my own place. All the time Tim accused me of cheating, I honestly was not, but my heart was elsewhere. During that time, Tim and I were broke up, I began to see the man I did love. We will call him Devin. Well Devin was in a relationship of his own, so I decided that in order for me to be able to still see Devin and not stress over him being with someone else, I would continue to see Tim.
Unfortunately, I ended up pregnant again. It seem logical that the baby was Tim's because he was my boyfriend. I hated the thought of that. I felt really trapped then. I did not like the thought of forever having him in my life. He used the pregnancy to his advantage. For a while, he did not hit me or engage any other foolishness, but he that was his way to linger around and come by my house and use all my luxuries, yet you could tell I had grown. When he threatened to leave and so on, I assured him that he could. I did not think of him as my world anymore. He had long ago began to disgust me.
As I said in the beginning, Tim and I were classmates but I did not really know him. Toward our first major break up my mama had began to tell me that she had heard he was using drugs. I did not believe her, because he and I were together so much, I thought it would impossible for him to find time to do such. When he became violent I thought back on what she said, but it still did not make sense to me. I kept thinking if he was on some kind of drugs, I would know or I would find some kind of clue.
The first clue came a little before our first major break up. One night he and I got off work, and as we were getting out of the car, he just passed out. I did not know what to do. I called the police and then his mother. I noticed when both she and the policeman got there that there seemed to be some kind of unspoken conversation going on. Tim had come to, and insisted on not going to the hospital, but he and his mama kept whispering, and the policeman kept saying, "Tim, I been knowing you a long time, are you sure you are alright?" I began to question then. Tim knew how I felt about drugs, so I guess that is why he hid it so well.
By the time I got pregnant, Tim admitted that he had "tried" powder before, but he was not a habitual user. He would go on and on complaining about how he was tired of people stereotyping him, his frieinds, and neighborhood. Sometimes I felt really bad for him, but I was no longer in love with him. I let him come around to avoid being pregnant alone and he was always complaining about how his family mistreated him, although they all had seem to come together on the issue of me. Everyone said I was crazy and he should leave me alone. No one ever said he was wrong about anything.
We both had our own places so that helped keep confusion down, but it seemed like if I went by his place he would get crazy all over again. Once we were arguing about something and I fell off his porch trying to get away from him. The most memorable incident was one time we were arguing he kicked me out of his house and then ran out to my car to continue the argument. When I tried to drive away, he tried to pull me out of the car through the window by my neck. It just so happened that his landlord was walking into the office and saw him. She hollered out for him to stop. and he let me go. Once I caught my breath, I was gone of course. That day I pressed charges against him. This time he had actually left bruises on my neck and had broken my herringbone chain, so I used that as evidence.
We did not talk for months after this. His family said I was trouble. At that time, I did not have much of a family to defend me because my mother was in prison at the time. Tim moved out of state, and I went on about my life. I was glad he was gone, because I discovered he was using drugs more than he claimed. That explained why his family treated him the way they did or so he thought they did. I think that was more his guilt eating at him.
I was unsure about what to do with the baby approaching. I was caring on my affair with Devin, but he seemed oblivious to the fact that the baby could have been his, so I never said anything to him about it. In the beginning, he had told me that we both knew the best thing for me to do was have an abortion.
A little before my daughter arrived, Tim began to call me again. He said he would come back into town when the baby was born. I remember calling him when the time came, and he claimed he was headed to the bus station. Then he claimed his mama was coming. She called me and said she could not make it, but let her know if I needed anything. In the end, I had my daughter alone in a hospital in another city where I knew no one.
Tim came into town a little after she came home, and for a while things were fine. Then I found out about someone he had been cheating with and another baby, and things changed again. He had been fined for the charges I had pressed against him, so I guess that is why he did not get too extreme. However, when my car broke down, he told me his mama would sell me hers for $500. She would give it to me for such a great price,because he and I were together. I gave Tim $500 for the car, but as soon as we got it, I began to feel like I had made a mistake. He never wanted me to drive it, because he claimed something needed to be fixed, and hell it was so raggedy, I did not want to drive it. It had only been a couple of days, and I decided I wanted my money back, but Tim just disappeared.
I tried calling his mother and at first she would not answer. By this time, my mama had gotten out, so she finally reached her. His mother told my mother, she never sold me that car, and she never recieved any money from him. She claimed she would try to get the money from him. To this day, I never got my $500 back. Tim made an appearance to my house one night claiming he was getting some things. As quickly as it always seem to happen, he had me on the wall choking me. Other times, I remember my only thoughts being questions of why, but I so clearly remember thinking this night, 'he is going to kill me with my baby here on the bed sleeping and my mama and kids in the living room watching TV.' He was so strong that I never thought of trying to fight him back, and I was too afraid to make a sound. I imagined him instantly breaking my neck. He took pleasure in my fear of him. I guess after he had saw all he needed to see, he let me fall to the floor and walked out of the house. That was the last time, I allowed myself to be alone with him, and I suppose that was what I needed to say I was done. He had not ever scared me like that before as many times as I had found myself in that position with him.
The very last time Tim put his hands on me was at a club. He saw me talking with another guy and like before when I said he would step on my foot or something subtle, he reached out to shake another man's hand who was nearby and hit me along the side of my head, hard enough to make me step back.
I tried pressing charges again, but unlike the last time when he pled guilty before, he pled not guilty this time, so we had to go to court. The majority of Tim's family worked in law enforcement, so that is partly why I took a lot of things. That along with the fact that my family has a reputation for being crazy and my being embarassed kept me quiet, but the thought of him terrorizing me even when we were not together, made me realize I would just have to deal with it and face him in court. We did a little trial thing, whereas we both were represented by public defenders, but I sensed that the judge and the attorneys were biased. My own attorney made me feel stupid and had not done a good job preparing me. The guy I had been talking with that night claimed he would come as a witness but never showed up. Then Tim was sleeping with the club's security guard's daughter, so all the security people spoke against me. Their argument was if he hit me, why hadn't I came to them? No one had reported anything. I was too embarassed to come to them, and I was afraid he might make a scene.
In the end, the judge said we just need to stay away from each other. We were too young to be doing all that fighting. To this day, I still cry remembering this, because no one believed me. When I told people back home about the things he used to do, everyone always got silent like he had already spoken to them or something, either they were thinking 'not cool Tim!' I can only speak so freely now, because I know for other reasons I will not mention, they might think back on what I said and believe me now.
I suppose most people do not want to discuss abuse anyway. I am a little embarassed to say that I have experienced it, but I hope that maybe someone will read this and realize they are in a similar situation and will get out. Tim was already a very angry person when I met him. I did not realize this at first, but I think this is where most of the mental abuse came from. When he was under the influence, the physical abuse started. I remember stories he used to tell me about abusing animals and how he used to fight dogs. I suppose I should have recognized his love for violence then. I guess I thought I was an exception to the rule and did not see myself as a victim. I decided to include these tips:
Help for abused and battered women: Making the decision to leave
As you face the decision to either end the abusive relationship or try to save it, keep the following things in mind:- If you’re hoping your abusive partner will change... The abuse will probably happen again. Abusers have deep emotional and psychological problems. While change is not impossible, it isn’t quick or easy. And change can only happen once your abuser takes full responsibility for his behavior, seeks professional treatment, and stops blaming you, his unhappy childhood, stress, work, his drinking, or his temper.
- If you believe you can help your abuser... It’s only natural that you want to help your partner. You may think you’re the only one who understands him or that it’s your responsibility to fix his problems. But the truth is that by staying and accepting repeated abuse, you’re reinforcing and enabling the abusive behavior. Instead of helping your abuser, you’re perpetuating the problem.
- If your partner has promised to stop the abuse... When facing consequences, abusers often plead for another chance, beg for forgiveness, and promise to change. They may even mean what they say in the moment, but their true goal is to stay in control and keep you from leaving. But most of the time, they quickly return to their abusive behavior once they’ve been forgiven and they’re no longer worried that you’ll leave.
- If your partner is in counseling or a program for batterers... Even if your partner is in counseling, there is no guarantee that he’ll change. Many abusers who go through counseling continue to be violent, abusive, and controlling. If your partner has stopped minimizing the problem or making excuses, that’s a good sign. But you still need to make your decision based on who he is now, not the man you hope he will become.
- If you’re worried about what will happen if you leave... You may be afraid of what your abusive partner will do, where you’ll go, or how you’ll support yourself or your children. But don’t let fear of the unknown keep you in a dangerous, unhealthy situation.
Signs that your abuser is NOT changing:
- He minimizes the abuse or denies how serious it really was.
- He continues to blame others for his behavior.
- He claims that you’re the one who is abusive.
- He pressures you to go to couple’s counseling.
- He tells you that you owe him another chance.
- You have to push him to stay in treatment.
- He says that he can’t change unless you stay with him and support him.
- He tries to get sympathy from you, your children, or your family and friends.
- He expects something from you in exchange for getting help.
- He pressures you to make decisions about the relationship.
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