Friday, June 11, 2010

Abuse in My Life {Domestic Violence Awareness}


As I was reading through the documents on abuse to create my last blog post, it really hit home how many of those things were a huge part of my last relationship and how those things made me feel. I never told anyone about the abuse my children and I suffered at the hands of a man I thought I could trust once.
When I met my daughter's father, I thought he was a wonderful Christian single parent, trying to raise his two beautiful girls and had just fallen on some bad luck in love. I didn't realize until later that bad luck was due to his abusive nature. He painted a glorious picture of himself and thinking back now I realize I was silly to fall for it. I barely knew him when I moved in with him, trusting my children's lives in this man's care. This major decision will haunt me for the rest of my life.
Within months, his true nature started to show but by then I was pregnant with our beautiful little girl and I had nowhere else to go, nor the money to support myself or my children. Plus I thought I could handle his anger, and of course I thought I provoked and deserved his anger. Then, like all good Momma's, I just wanted to give my children a life with a father and mother and love. It took a while to realize it takes two loving parents to be able to provide that and by then I was already in love with his two beautiful daughters. I didn't want to leave them alone to deal with the abuse they had endured for so long alone.
I was there for two years before I finally got the nerve to leave and when I did, I had to leave everything behind to make it, children included, ashamedly. I wish I had been braver, I wish I had reported him for the abuse he did to me, my children and especially his own gorgeous young girls. My choices, though not always right, have led to much better, THANKS to God.
Abuse: threatening and harming, body and soul.
In two years, I saw this man push his daughters around like they were less of a human than him. I watched him practically slam his younger daughter into counters or push her to the floor. I watched him yank the hair on their heads because they hadn't brushed it thoroughly enough. He'd scream at them like the lowest of animals and hit them for the littlest of things that ticked him off. My own daughter, he would hold with arms and legs tightly wrapped around her to the wall in time-outs until she gave up the fight. The last straw for me was when he hit her bottom so hard that he left his handprint behind. He would thump my son in his penis for not peeing in the potty when he woke him around 2 am each night (he woke him to prevent bed-wetting and he refused to buy any of the kids pull-ups to sleep in, his daughter included). He would hit all of the kids in their heads, so as not to leave a mark and then state, "I do it that way so DSS has no idea" and "they'll never catch me for abuse".
For me, he would be very loving one day and completely opposite the next. He was jealous of my friends, of which I had none while living in his home. We had no phone and only had the internet thanks to the Wi-Fi signal from his parent's home (put in for me) and that was only while we had a computer which was not the whole two years. I had no way of contacting friends and family. When we would fight or argue he would pettily provoke me and degrade me like a middle school bully would do. He would lie on top of me or push me with his body weight into corners, walls, and counters, even while I was pregnant with my youngest daughter. He made me feel worthless and undeserving. He treated me very much like a child instead of the woman he claimed to love dearly. He broke my spirit and that of those I love most: my children.
At two years, the abuse came to the point that I was reacting abusively myself. His youngest daughter and I did not get along and I treated her despicably after watching him for so long. At one point, when I attempted to leave he refused to allow me to get to my children and refused to hand over my baby so I threatened to kill him with a 12 inch butcher knife. I was not myself: I was an abused, unloved woman desperate for a way out, so finally I just left.
My mother was with me through most of this time and saw the events that happened. I trusted her with my children so I left them in the house with her and with him. It was a bad choice. He convinced her I was the problem and that she should take custody of my kids, which she attempted to do. I fought five long months to get my children back to me, everyday fearing for their lives and everyday fearing of speaking of the abuse we had suffered in the advent it get turned around upon me instead of on the abuser himself. To this day, I still fear that result.
My children are now back with me, in a safe and loving home, with their mother to love and care for them. I thank God every day for leading us out of that abusive life into this blessed one. At the same time, I fear the wrath of a man who is so little that he feels the need to control and bully me. I live in fear of the harassment that comes along with him and I do my best to prevent his existence in my life.
I know God has a reason for all that we have been through, that he has a reason even for allowing abuse. My past has made me stronger, but has brought much damage to my children's spirits, though they persevere every day. I do not share this story, in anger, but in knowledge of sharing my fears and hope that it will someday help someone else who may be in a similar situation. It is my goal to move on from my past, to help my children continue to persevere and heal from the damage caused and to someday bury this all inside in an attempt to forget the bad and replace it all with the best days of our lives together with God's enduring Love and Blessings in our lives.
<3

3 comments:

  1. Great post!
    I also come out of a background of abuse. Thank you for being so open and honest.

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  2. i hope that also everyone knows that there are abuse shelters out there, so if you think there is no where to turn for help, your wrong there is.. all you need to do is make the move and go.
    mother and i lived in one for nearly 2 months when we left our abuser (her second husband)

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  3. Thanks Michelle. :)

    Your absolutely right Brenduh. I listed the number to the national abuse hotline in my last post (1-800-799-SAFE). I, personally, chose not to leave ad take my children into a shelter. I'm not really sure why other than I just didn't want them to ever have to be in one. If I could do that differently now, I would but the good Lord worked it all out for the best for us in the end. :)

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