For Mama Kat's Writing Prompts I chose #4:
Five Things. List 5 things we don’t know about you, 5 things you’re knowledgeable about, 5 things you know nothing about, and 5 things you believe.
5 Things you don't know about me:
1) I am 46 years old with 5 kids ages 28, 11, 10, 9, and 3.
2) I can't stand Lularoe clothing (I know...don't be mad)
3) I'm an eBay and Amazon seller, and I love it.
4) Driving by myself at night with loud music and the windows down is my favorite thing to do
5) I'm addicted to Diet Mountain Dew
5 things I'm knowledgeable about:
1) The best way to use cloth diapers without a diaper service.
2) Using Youtube to cook foods I've never cooked before
3) How to block games from my Facebook timeline
4) How to fall into the Youtube Rabbit Hole
5) Flip-flops
5 things I know nothing about:
1) How to convince my brother-in-law to become a democrat
2) How to make myself stick to a diet and exercise plan
3) How to deliver a joke and punchline
4) How to stop laughing when nervous or crying when mad
5) Fashion
5 things you believe:
1) Karma
2) I will find my "happy life"
3) I will build my eBay business and be independent one day
4) I will be a domestic violence advocate
5) I will teach my girls and son how to treat themselves well
Friday, November 17, 2017
POST 1: Blindsided
The question most victims and survivors of domestic violence (also known as Intimate Partner Violence) hear is "Why don't you just leave?". As if it's that simple. Maybe from the outside looking in it is just that easy. When you are on the inside looking out of that prison, the bars built on fear, guilt, shame, intimidation, uncertainty, depression, and finances are just as real as the ones found in a real prison.
I can speak from experience because I'm a domestic abuse survivor trying to break free of the physical and emotional grip of abuse. I'd like to say this was my first experience with domestic violence. My first marriage also ended because of domestic violence after 10 years.
I thought I had learned enough to not let myself become entrapped again. I was wrong. Emotional abuse is insiduous. It's often hard to point to something definitive that can be a warning that it's happening.
My first marriage was all about physical abuse. My ex gradually fell into a pit of alcoholism and addiction. He was usually too drunk or high to worry about tearing me down emotionally. He had one purpose and that was to find his next high.
I broke free of that, but it wasn't an easy process as we had one child together. Even though he was in no shape to be a father by himself, I still had to deal with him through his family because I just let them have his visitation times rather than his father.
Fast forward 7 years.
I moved to Florida in 2005. It was suppose to be a new, fresh start. I wanted to be somewhere near a beach with warm weather all year. I wanted to go to school. Start living life a little since my son was 17 and going to a military program to help him get his GED and some structure.
I met "W" not long after moving here. He had recently moved to attend college and study to be an Electrical Engineer. He seemed open-minded, smart, and didn't seem to like war and violence, drinking or drugs. I thought this was someone I could work with. I wrongly assumed these things meant he wasn't going to be someone I'd have to worry about being abusive.
WRONG
In the first few months there were little things that he did that annoyed me or frustrated me. Isn't that usually the case though? Whoever heard of someone who was perfect I thought. The signs I saw then should have been red flags. I'm not sure why I dusted away the little comments about the way I dressed, spoke, or the things I liked to do. They were never said in a nasty, condescending way.
These things were always delivered in a caring tone and usually not said outright. Just hinted at.
When I became pregnant with out first child and moved in with him in 2006 things started changing. Subtle hints to change the way I was became more overt. At times they became demands.
I was emotionally and financially vulnerable since I had quit my job to move to his town. He didn't want me to work. He wanted me to focus on getting an education to "better myself". Who could argue with someone who cared so much about my well-being and improving myself, right?
If only I had understood then what that would turn out to mean.
After 12 years, and having 4 kids with him I've suffered physical, emotional, sexual, and verbal abuse from W on a weekly, and at times, daily basis. The verbal abuse and controlling mental manipulations were constant. The physical abuse wasn't often, especially in those first few years.
I had him arrested in 2010 for attacking me. I'd hoped this would teach him a lesson and wake him up to what he was doing to our family. He couldn't see that although we didn't argue where the kids could see or hear, the effects of the abuse was obvious. I was constantly on edge and walking on egg shells to try to dance around his anger.
In April 2017, a week after I'd had a full hysterectomy, he attacked me verbally and physically one night because I had told my (female) neighbor that I'd had a hysterectomy. We weren't extremely close at that time, but I enjoyed talking to her off and on through the 6-7 years we'd been neighbors. Stopping to talk here or there and attending neighborhood birthday or Christmas parties.
He felt I had shared too personal of information that may be an embarassment to him if other neighbors found out I had had my reproductive organs removed. I can only assume that he felt this would be viewed as some slight on his manhood if other men of the neighborhood found out.
When he went to sleep, I grabbed a secret cell phone I had and called the police. It was not easy to do because, no matter how much he deserved to be arrested, I didn't want to do him harm. I was worried about the financial effects it would have on my kid's lives. They woke up as the police were leaving. I hugged them and told them that me and papa (their name for their father) just couldn't get along, so some people came to talk it over with us and decided we couldn't live together for a while and needed a break.
We packed our things into our vehicle and moved into a local domestic violence shelter before he could get out. Gradually, the no contact order was lifted between W and I, so the kids started doing visitations with him every weekend. They were happy because even though we had problems between us, he had a great relationship with his kids.
The shelter was a safe haven and place for me to recover mentally and physically. However, it wasn't a great environment for my kids. Too many people lived there who refused to clean so there was a mess and trash around even in the hallways and kitchens. The domestic violence coalition felt it was not empowering to force people to clean, so many just didn't. Some people lied to get in there and had drug problems and would do inappropriate things like stripping down or walking around almost naked when there were young children around.
Sometimes the women would fight and curse and steal. A few times the police were called. Residents were always going into other peoples cabinets and refrigerators to steal food.
There was no one to help when my truck broke down. Everywhere we went we had to walk or take a bus which isn't easy with 4 kids in the Florida heat.
I had just started seeing a psychiatrist who was treating me for depression and PTSD. Too many issues to deal with and worry about having my kids in a healthy environment.
I agreed to let my kids go back home with me coming there to stay during the day only to get my kids out of the shelter. He would go to work. I would come stay with the kids as he was leaving and leave as he was coming in.
We had an agreement to only speak over the phone about important matters. He would be gone when I was there, and I could leave as soon as he was home from work.
I homeschooled my kids through online public school, but that isn't always easy when you have depression. He wasn't satisfied with how I was teaching them. He was concerned about my depression having an effect on them (valid points), so he started complaining again and getting verbally abusive over the phone to me.
I decided to not go back there at all because I don't want to fall into the same patterns and have the past months of sacrifice wasted. He is now home-schooling them.
It's been very frustrating to me that most of the time I was there home-schooling for the last few years I didn't have a car to take them to groups and library activities like we did in the beginning. Now he does have a vehicle and takes them to the library activities at least 3 times each week and/or to the pool and different outings.
I love that my kids are finally getting to do these things again which helps them enjoy learning more. However, I feel it's so unfair of him to judge my skills and results when he doesn't have me, or abuse from me, to deal with. He has access to a car to take the kids to activities regularly. He has freedom to call out for pizza or grill hotdogs for dinner to make things easier for himself while he expected me to have a non-processed food dinner most nights and days.
I'm sure he does this intentionally, but I don't say anything just because I feel resentful since ultimately the kids are benefiting.
I'm struggling with my depression and PTSD even while on meds. I start counselling therapy next week. I'm looking for employment for the first time in 12 years and find it difficult to explain my long absence.
My domestic violence group advocate suggests trying to socialize and find myself again. But it's hard. It's hard to trust my instincts or others. It's hard to overcome guilt and worry about each little decision I make....is this the right choice? or is that the right choice? It's hard to not be around my kids each and every day like I use to be.
I know it will all come together. I feel good knowing that my kids are doing ok through all of this since they really are the most important. I will find my career path. I'll get another car. I'll get out of the shelter and into my own place. I'll overcome depression and manage my PTSD symptoms.
Right now, it's easy to fee blind-sided by all these emotions and decisions.
I can speak from experience because I'm a domestic abuse survivor trying to break free of the physical and emotional grip of abuse. I'd like to say this was my first experience with domestic violence. My first marriage also ended because of domestic violence after 10 years.
I thought I had learned enough to not let myself become entrapped again. I was wrong. Emotional abuse is insiduous. It's often hard to point to something definitive that can be a warning that it's happening.
My first marriage was all about physical abuse. My ex gradually fell into a pit of alcoholism and addiction. He was usually too drunk or high to worry about tearing me down emotionally. He had one purpose and that was to find his next high.
I broke free of that, but it wasn't an easy process as we had one child together. Even though he was in no shape to be a father by himself, I still had to deal with him through his family because I just let them have his visitation times rather than his father.
Fast forward 7 years.
I moved to Florida in 2005. It was suppose to be a new, fresh start. I wanted to be somewhere near a beach with warm weather all year. I wanted to go to school. Start living life a little since my son was 17 and going to a military program to help him get his GED and some structure.
I met "W" not long after moving here. He had recently moved to attend college and study to be an Electrical Engineer. He seemed open-minded, smart, and didn't seem to like war and violence, drinking or drugs. I thought this was someone I could work with. I wrongly assumed these things meant he wasn't going to be someone I'd have to worry about being abusive.
WRONG
In the first few months there were little things that he did that annoyed me or frustrated me. Isn't that usually the case though? Whoever heard of someone who was perfect I thought. The signs I saw then should have been red flags. I'm not sure why I dusted away the little comments about the way I dressed, spoke, or the things I liked to do. They were never said in a nasty, condescending way.
These things were always delivered in a caring tone and usually not said outright. Just hinted at.
When I became pregnant with out first child and moved in with him in 2006 things started changing. Subtle hints to change the way I was became more overt. At times they became demands.
I was emotionally and financially vulnerable since I had quit my job to move to his town. He didn't want me to work. He wanted me to focus on getting an education to "better myself". Who could argue with someone who cared so much about my well-being and improving myself, right?
If only I had understood then what that would turn out to mean.
After 12 years, and having 4 kids with him I've suffered physical, emotional, sexual, and verbal abuse from W on a weekly, and at times, daily basis. The verbal abuse and controlling mental manipulations were constant. The physical abuse wasn't often, especially in those first few years.
I had him arrested in 2010 for attacking me. I'd hoped this would teach him a lesson and wake him up to what he was doing to our family. He couldn't see that although we didn't argue where the kids could see or hear, the effects of the abuse was obvious. I was constantly on edge and walking on egg shells to try to dance around his anger.
In April 2017, a week after I'd had a full hysterectomy, he attacked me verbally and physically one night because I had told my (female) neighbor that I'd had a hysterectomy. We weren't extremely close at that time, but I enjoyed talking to her off and on through the 6-7 years we'd been neighbors. Stopping to talk here or there and attending neighborhood birthday or Christmas parties.
He felt I had shared too personal of information that may be an embarassment to him if other neighbors found out I had had my reproductive organs removed. I can only assume that he felt this would be viewed as some slight on his manhood if other men of the neighborhood found out.
When he went to sleep, I grabbed a secret cell phone I had and called the police. It was not easy to do because, no matter how much he deserved to be arrested, I didn't want to do him harm. I was worried about the financial effects it would have on my kid's lives. They woke up as the police were leaving. I hugged them and told them that me and papa (their name for their father) just couldn't get along, so some people came to talk it over with us and decided we couldn't live together for a while and needed a break.
We packed our things into our vehicle and moved into a local domestic violence shelter before he could get out. Gradually, the no contact order was lifted between W and I, so the kids started doing visitations with him every weekend. They were happy because even though we had problems between us, he had a great relationship with his kids.
The shelter was a safe haven and place for me to recover mentally and physically. However, it wasn't a great environment for my kids. Too many people lived there who refused to clean so there was a mess and trash around even in the hallways and kitchens. The domestic violence coalition felt it was not empowering to force people to clean, so many just didn't. Some people lied to get in there and had drug problems and would do inappropriate things like stripping down or walking around almost naked when there were young children around.
Sometimes the women would fight and curse and steal. A few times the police were called. Residents were always going into other peoples cabinets and refrigerators to steal food.
There was no one to help when my truck broke down. Everywhere we went we had to walk or take a bus which isn't easy with 4 kids in the Florida heat.
I had just started seeing a psychiatrist who was treating me for depression and PTSD. Too many issues to deal with and worry about having my kids in a healthy environment.
I agreed to let my kids go back home with me coming there to stay during the day only to get my kids out of the shelter. He would go to work. I would come stay with the kids as he was leaving and leave as he was coming in.
We had an agreement to only speak over the phone about important matters. He would be gone when I was there, and I could leave as soon as he was home from work.
I homeschooled my kids through online public school, but that isn't always easy when you have depression. He wasn't satisfied with how I was teaching them. He was concerned about my depression having an effect on them (valid points), so he started complaining again and getting verbally abusive over the phone to me.
I decided to not go back there at all because I don't want to fall into the same patterns and have the past months of sacrifice wasted. He is now home-schooling them.
It's been very frustrating to me that most of the time I was there home-schooling for the last few years I didn't have a car to take them to groups and library activities like we did in the beginning. Now he does have a vehicle and takes them to the library activities at least 3 times each week and/or to the pool and different outings.
I love that my kids are finally getting to do these things again which helps them enjoy learning more. However, I feel it's so unfair of him to judge my skills and results when he doesn't have me, or abuse from me, to deal with. He has access to a car to take the kids to activities regularly. He has freedom to call out for pizza or grill hotdogs for dinner to make things easier for himself while he expected me to have a non-processed food dinner most nights and days.
I'm sure he does this intentionally, but I don't say anything just because I feel resentful since ultimately the kids are benefiting.
I'm struggling with my depression and PTSD even while on meds. I start counselling therapy next week. I'm looking for employment for the first time in 12 years and find it difficult to explain my long absence.
My domestic violence group advocate suggests trying to socialize and find myself again. But it's hard. It's hard to trust my instincts or others. It's hard to overcome guilt and worry about each little decision I make....is this the right choice? or is that the right choice? It's hard to not be around my kids each and every day like I use to be.
I know it will all come together. I feel good knowing that my kids are doing ok through all of this since they really are the most important. I will find my career path. I'll get another car. I'll get out of the shelter and into my own place. I'll overcome depression and manage my PTSD symptoms.
Right now, it's easy to fee blind-sided by all these emotions and decisions.
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