tmww All Comments (3)
My Story
Do you know what domestic violence is? It is not what you think. It is not *just* physical abuse between a couple. It is emotional, verbal, sexual, physical and/or psychological.
Domestic Violence Awareness Month is October, but 75 members, myself included, at Bloggers Unite have deemed May 9th as Domestic Violence Awareness Day. Yes, I am posting this early, simply because I want to get the word out, and I want to tell you my story, while I can.
Those of us who have been abused (yes, I am one) have had to deal with one or more of these issues: punched walls, control of finances, lying, using children to manipulate a parent's emotions, intimidation, isolation from family and friends, fear, shame, criticism, cuts, crying and afraid children, broken bones, confusion, forced sexual contact, manipulation, sexist comments, yelling, rages, craziness, harassment, neglect, shoving, screaming, jealousy and possessiveness, loss of self esteem, coercion, slammed doors, abandonment, silent treatment, rape, destruction of personal property, unwanted touching, name calling, strangling, ripping, slapping, biting, kicking, bruises, punching, stalking, scrapes, depression, sabotaging attendance at job or school, brainwashing, violence to pets, pinching, deprivation of physical and economic resources, public humiliation, broken promises, prevention of seeking medical and dental care, ridicule, restraining, self-medication, forced tickling, threats to harm family and friends, threats to take away the children, threats to harm animals, threats of being kicked out, threats of weapons, threats of being killed.
Scary isn’t it? In all cultures, batterers are most commonly male. Rural and urban women of all religious, ethnic, socio-economic and educational backgrounds, and of varying ages, physical abilities and lifestyles can be affected by domestic violence. There is not a typical woman who will be battered - the risk factor is being born female.
Children witnessing domestic violence and living in an environment where violence occurs may experience some of the same trauma as abused children. Not all children are affected by domestic violence in the same way. Children may become fearful, inhibited, aggressive, antisocial, withdrawn, anxious, depressed, angry, confused; suffer from disturbed sleep, problems with eating, difficulties at school and challenges in making friends. Children often feel caught in the middle between their parents and find it difficult to talk to either of them. Adolescents may act out or exhibit risk-taking behaviors such as drug and alcohol use, running away, sexual promiscuity and criminal behavior. Young men may try to protect their mothers, or they may become abusive to their mothers themselves. Children may injured if they try to intervene in the violence in their homes.
My Personal Story - Bernard
Where to begin. I’ve been the battered woman in several relationships. I just seem to always end up with the “good guy gone bad” type. The relationship starts off great and then little by little, small things happen, and before you know it, you’re sucked in.
The first time I was a victim of DV was when I first moved to Richmond from North Carolina with my girlfriend, Kim. Her boyfriend and mine were friends and when Kim and I moved to Richmond, they wanted to come as well. So we thought about it, and with their assurances that they would both get a job as soon as we arrived to help with the household finances, we agreed. Kim already had a job when we moved, and I obtained a job two weeks after we arrived. A month later, neither one of the guys had a job yet. Kim had her four children to feed and I had my daughter. We were living together until I could get enough money saved up to get my own place for my daughter and I, and we split the cost of everything down the middle. Second month came and went, the guys still had no jobs. So Kim and I told them we were going back to North Carolina to pick up some items we had left behind and talked them in to going with us. We did not tell them that we were leaving them there – because they would not have gone with us.
My boyfriend at that time was Bernard. I got along great with his family, and thought he was a really great guy (originally). He said all the right things, did all the right things, but once we got to Virginia and he saw that he could sit back and play video games all day long and drink beer and have a woman take care of him – he changed. Boy did he change. Once we arrived in North Carolina, I dropped Kim and her boyfriend off at a friend’s house and Bernard said he wanted to visit his grandmother. So I took him to his grandmother’s house. I told him, while still in the driver’s seat of Kim’s van, that it was over between us. I was not going in to visit his grandmother, and he was not coming back to Virginia with me.
I kept my voice low and even, trying not to let my emotions creep in. April was in her car seat in the back seat and I didn’t want her to get upset. I wanted this over with as quickly as possible. Bernard had other plans. Before I knew what had happened, he reared back his fist and punched me square in the jaw. If I had not turned my head at the last moment, he would have broken my nose. As it was, he just dislocated my jaw. April screamed and that jolted me into action. Bernard had opened the passenger door to get out when I told him he was not coming back to Virginia, and the door was still open. I twisted myself around in the driver’s seat and kicked him with all the force I could muster and he fell out of the van. I reached across and slammed the door shut and locked it. I slammed the van into reverse (which was still running thank God) and raced out of the driveway.
I never saw Bernard or heard from him again.
My Personal Story – The Man Thing
Most of you know that I am still *in a relationship* with The Man Thing (TMT). Some of you think I am completely crazy for still being here, while others think I am completely crazy and just don’t say it. (smile)
Ours is not a “normal” relationship. There are a lot of underlying factors which I won’t get into because it involves the privacy of other individuals and, while I have no qualms about blogging about all the dirt in my own family, I won’t drag others into my blog without their consent (of which I would never get so we won’t even go there, m’kay?). Suffice it to say, while we have been together now for 16 years, the love that we had between us at the very beginning has died over the years. Our relationship now is more a relationship of convenience. Yes, I care about him. I don’t wish him harm (most days) but I no longer have that burning love and desire that I once did. Quite frankly, there are days when I could care less if he came home or not. As long as the bills are paid and my children taken care of, that’s all I ask of him.
I have left him and gone to a shelter three times, and always returned home again within 48 to 72 hours. I have dealt with him punching walls and cars and throwing me around, controlling our finances, using the kids to manipulate me, intimidation, isolation from my family and friends (both physically as well as cutting off my internet access), forced sexual contact, yelling, rages, craziness, harassment at work (calling 10 to 15 times a day to “say I love you” (he says – check up on where I am I say), jealousy and possessiveness, destruction of personal property (having me tear up my journals that I had kept since a young girl and the photo albums for my daughter with photos of my ex-husband because “no man wants to think of his woman in a relationship with any other man before or see pictures of another man in his house”), name calling, sabotaging attendance at job or school, brainwashing, violence to pets, public humiliation, broken promises, prevention of seeking dental care, ridicule, restraining, threats to harm family and friends, threats to take away the children, threats of being kicked out, threats of being killed.
We’ve been through a lot. I left him again, the last time, August 30, 2001. I packed up College Girl and Demon Boy (who were only *almost* 12 and 2 respectively – both had birthdays coming up in November) and hopped on the local Greyhound and headed to Pennsylvania. I visited with my dad and my sister for a few days and then continued my journey to New Hampshire to stay with The Crazy Blonde Cougar (a domestic violence survivor herself, as well as a former police officer) and her boyfriend and his son.
If ever there was a hell on earth, I found it in New Hampshire when TMT found me. You see, I had been packing stuff on the sly and sending it to The Crazy Blonde Cougar or taking it to work disguised as *work* so when the day came to leave on the bus, all I had to do was grab a suitcase of last minute things and the kids and off we would go. So that morning, TMT thought he was dropping me off at work. He didn’t know he would not see me again for several months.
I know you all are probably dying for details, but really, I don’t want to go there. I thought I could, for this post, just once, but I can’t. I’m sorry. I have spent the past 6 years putting all that happened during those months behind me. It hasn’t been easy, because one of the things that TMT does when he’s angry is drag up EVERYTHING that happened in those 5 months I was gone and find a way to blame me for all of it.
Suffice it to say, I am no longer afraid of dying and possibly going to hell when I do. Nothing the devil could put me through would be worse then what I endured those 5 months of him trying to find me, succeeding, and then doing everything he could to get me back – including having me put in jail for kidnapping our son, Demon Boy.
Did I mention I’m very good at compartmentalizing? Yeah, once its in the vault, it stays there. Those memories are in the vault with about 30 different locks in various shapes and sizes never to be released again, m’kay?
I do not consider myself a victim of domestic violence any longer. Yes, TMT still pulls his shit now and then but he is not physical, and The Crazy Blonde Cougar has taught me that nobody can walk over top of me unless I lie down and allow it. When he starts in on the emotional, verbal or mental abuse, I ignore him. It works for me. I am not saying that it will work for others, but for me, it works. I have moved past wanting to run away every time he upsets me, simply because I do not wish to put Demon Boy and the Demon-In-Training through the emotional upheaval that it will cause. They have enough issues without my adding to them. I can, and have, made their home life pleasant and shield them from TMT and his attitude adjustment periods. I made a decision when I returned to Virginia in 2002 that, if there was a next time, TMT would be the one to leave – not me – and without his children.
I am working on ways to free myself from the financial shackles he has on me as well. Finances are still under his thumb – he pays all the bills and gives me just enough for what I need to purchase at the store and not a dime more – but that will all change soon too.
In earning my Associate’s Degree in Information Technology and Web Design, I am empowering myself to be in a position where I can make some hard core cash – enough to take care of my kids and still be a stay-at-home mother and bring home the bacon, thankyouverymuch. I will get to a point where I don’t need him financially any longer as well. I will then be completely empowered and free to do whatever I think is best for my children and myself. 2010 is going to be a year of reckoning, in more ways then one.
I am going to *try* and coerce The Crazy Blonde Cougar into writing a post on her blog about that time I spent with her in New Hampshire from her perspective. She was, is, and always will be my Earthly Angel. Had it not been for her being there, helping me, comforting me, holding me when I cried uncontrollably and could not stop more times then I care to remember, giving me the courage to move forward and face things head on – I can honestly say that I most likely would be dead. I will never forget something she told me. “Red is a power color – YOUR power color. Wear it and kick some ass!” I still have that suit hon, even though it no longer fits. It is a reminder of what was, what has been, and the good that is yet to come.
If you are in a domestic violence situation, or even just *think* you might be, please, contact somebody. Tell a friend, write to me, write to The Crazy Blonde Cougar, call your local Department of Social Services, or contact the nearest Domestic Violence Coalition Office for help. All you need to do is to reach out…there are people there waiting to take your hand and help you through the darkness until you find the sunlight again.
You can find a Domestic Violence Coalition Office in your state here. Many thanks to the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence for their statistical and educational information that I have provided here.
God Bless.
My Story - Bloggers Unite - Domestic Violence Awareness Day
Do you know what domestic violence is? It is not what you think. It is not *just* physical abuse between a couple. It is emotional, verbal, sexual, physical and/or psychological.
Domestic Violence Awareness Month is October, but 75 members, myself included, at Bloggers Unite have deemed May 9th as Domestic Violence Awareness Day. Yes, I am posting this early, simply because I want to get the word out, and I want to tell you my story, while I can.
Those of us who have been abused (yes, I am one) have had to deal with one or more of these issues: punched walls, control of finances, lying, using children to manipulate a parent's emotions, intimidation, isolation from family and friends, fear, shame, criticism, cuts, crying and afraid children, broken bones, confusion, forced sexual contact, manipulation, sexist comments, yelling, rages, craziness, harassment, neglect, shoving, screaming, jealousy and possessiveness, loss of self esteem, coercion, slammed doors, abandonment, silent treatment, rape, destruction of personal property, unwanted touching, name calling, strangling, ripping, slapping, biting, kicking, bruises, punching, stalking, scrapes, depression, sabotaging attendance at job or school, brainwashing, violence to pets, pinching, deprivation of physical and economic resources, public humiliation, broken promises, prevention of seeking medical and dental care, ridicule, restraining, self-medication, forced tickling, threats to harm family and friends, threats to take away the children, threats to harm animals, threats of being kicked out, threats of weapons, threats of being killed.
Scary isn’t it? In all cultures, batterers are most commonly male. Rural and urban women of all religious, ethnic, socio-economic and educational backgrounds, and of varying ages, physical abilities and lifestyles can be affected by domestic violence. There is not a typical woman who will be battered - the risk factor is being born female.
Children witnessing domestic violence and living in an environment where violence occurs may experience some of the same trauma as abused children. Not all children are affected by domestic violence in the same way. Children may become fearful, inhibited, aggressive, antisocial, withdrawn, anxious, depressed, angry, confused; suffer from disturbed sleep, problems with eating, difficulties at school and challenges in making friends. Children often feel caught in the middle between their parents and find it difficult to talk to either of them. Adolescents may act out or exhibit risk-taking behaviors such as drug and alcohol use, running away, sexual promiscuity and criminal behavior. Young men may try to protect their mothers, or they may become abusive to their mothers themselves. Children may injured if they try to intervene in the violence in their homes.
My Personal Story - Bernard
Where to begin. I’ve been the battered woman in several relationships. I just seem to always end up with the “good guy gone bad” type. The relationship starts off great and then little by little, small things happen, and before you know it, you’re sucked in.
The first time I was a victim of DV was when I first moved to Richmond from North Carolina with my girlfriend, Kim. Her boyfriend and mine were friends and when Kim and I moved to Richmond, they wanted to come as well. So we thought about it, and with their assurances that they would both get a job as soon as we arrived to help with the household finances, we agreed. Kim already had a job when we moved, and I obtained a job two weeks after we arrived. A month later, neither one of the guys had a job yet. Kim had her four children to feed and I had my daughter. We were living together until I could get enough money saved up to get my own place for my daughter and I, and we split the cost of everything down the middle. Second month came and went, the guys still had no jobs. So Kim and I told them we were going back to North Carolina to pick up some items we had left behind and talked them in to going with us. We did not tell them that we were leaving them there – because they would not have gone with us.
My boyfriend at that time was Bernard. I got along great with his family, and thought he was a really great guy (originally). He said all the right things, did all the right things, but once we got to Virginia and he saw that he could sit back and play video games all day long and drink beer and have a woman take care of him – he changed. Boy did he change. Once we arrived in North Carolina, I dropped Kim and her boyfriend off at a friend’s house and Bernard said he wanted to visit his grandmother. So I took him to his grandmother’s house. I told him, while still in the driver’s seat of Kim’s van, that it was over between us. I was not going in to visit his grandmother, and he was not coming back to Virginia with me.
I kept my voice low and even, trying not to let my emotions creep in. April was in her car seat in the back seat and I didn’t want her to get upset. I wanted this over with as quickly as possible. Bernard had other plans. Before I knew what had happened, he reared back his fist and punched me square in the jaw. If I had not turned my head at the last moment, he would have broken my nose. As it was, he just dislocated my jaw. April screamed and that jolted me into action. Bernard had opened the passenger door to get out when I told him he was not coming back to Virginia, and the door was still open. I twisted myself around in the driver’s seat and kicked him with all the force I could muster and he fell out of the van. I reached across and slammed the door shut and locked it. I slammed the van into reverse (which was still running thank God) and raced out of the driveway.
I never saw Bernard or heard from him again.
My Personal Story – The Man Thing
Most of you know that I am still *in a relationship* with The Man Thing (TMT). Some of you think I am completely crazy for still being here, while others think I am completely crazy and just don’t say it. (smile)
Ours is not a “normal” relationship. There are a lot of underlying factors which I won’t get into because it involves the privacy of other individuals and, while I have no qualms about blogging about all the dirt in my own family, I won’t drag others into my blog without their consent (of which I would never get so we won’t even go there, m’kay?). Suffice it to say, while we have been together now for 16 years, the love that we had between us at the very beginning has died over the years. Our relationship now is more a relationship of convenience. Yes, I care about him. I don’t wish him harm (most days) but I no longer have that burning love and desire that I once did. Quite frankly, there are days when I could care less if he came home or not. As long as the bills are paid and my children taken care of, that’s all I ask of him.
I have left him and gone to a shelter three times, and always returned home again within 48 to 72 hours. I have dealt with him punching walls and cars and throwing me around, controlling our finances, using the kids to manipulate me, intimidation, isolation from my family and friends (both physically as well as cutting off my internet access), forced sexual contact, yelling, rages, craziness, harassment at work (calling 10 to 15 times a day to “say I love you” (he says – check up on where I am I say), jealousy and possessiveness, destruction of personal property (having me tear up my journals that I had kept since a young girl and the photo albums for my daughter with photos of my ex-husband because “no man wants to think of his woman in a relationship with any other man before or see pictures of another man in his house”), name calling, sabotaging attendance at job or school, brainwashing, violence to pets, public humiliation, broken promises, prevention of seeking dental care, ridicule, restraining, threats to harm family and friends, threats to take away the children, threats of being kicked out, threats of being killed.
We’ve been through a lot. I left him again, the last time, August 30, 2001. I packed up College Girl and Demon Boy (who were only *almost* 12 and 2 respectively – both had birthdays coming up in November) and hopped on the local Greyhound and headed to Pennsylvania. I visited with my dad and my sister for a few days and then continued my journey to New Hampshire to stay with The Crazy Blonde Cougar (a domestic violence survivor herself, as well as a former police officer) and her boyfriend and his son.
If ever there was a hell on earth, I found it in New Hampshire when TMT found me. You see, I had been packing stuff on the sly and sending it to The Crazy Blonde Cougar or taking it to work disguised as *work* so when the day came to leave on the bus, all I had to do was grab a suitcase of last minute things and the kids and off we would go. So that morning, TMT thought he was dropping me off at work. He didn’t know he would not see me again for several months.
I know you all are probably dying for details, but really, I don’t want to go there. I thought I could, for this post, just once, but I can’t. I’m sorry. I have spent the past 6 years putting all that happened during those months behind me. It hasn’t been easy, because one of the things that TMT does when he’s angry is drag up EVERYTHING that happened in those 5 months I was gone and find a way to blame me for all of it.
Suffice it to say, I am no longer afraid of dying and possibly going to hell when I do. Nothing the devil could put me through would be worse then what I endured those 5 months of him trying to find me, succeeding, and then doing everything he could to get me back – including having me put in jail for kidnapping our son, Demon Boy.
Did I mention I’m very good at compartmentalizing? Yeah, once its in the vault, it stays there. Those memories are in the vault with about 30 different locks in various shapes and sizes never to be released again, m’kay?
I do not consider myself a victim of domestic violence any longer. Yes, TMT still pulls his shit now and then but he is not physical, and The Crazy Blonde Cougar has taught me that nobody can walk over top of me unless I lie down and allow it. When he starts in on the emotional, verbal or mental abuse, I ignore him. It works for me. I am not saying that it will work for others, but for me, it works. I have moved past wanting to run away every time he upsets me, simply because I do not wish to put Demon Boy and the Demon-In-Training through the emotional upheaval that it will cause. They have enough issues without my adding to them. I can, and have, made their home life pleasant and shield them from TMT and his attitude adjustment periods. I made a decision when I returned to Virginia in 2002 that, if there was a next time, TMT would be the one to leave – not me – and without his children.
I am working on ways to free myself from the financial shackles he has on me as well. Finances are still under his thumb – he pays all the bills and gives me just enough for what I need to purchase at the store and not a dime more – but that will all change soon too.
In earning my Associate’s Degree in Information Technology and Web Design, I am empowering myself to be in a position where I can make some hard core cash – enough to take care of my kids and still be a stay-at-home mother and bring home the bacon, thankyouverymuch. I will get to a point where I don’t need him financially any longer as well. I will then be completely empowered and free to do whatever I think is best for my children and myself. 2010 is going to be a year of reckoning, in more ways then one.
I am going to *try* and coerce The Crazy Blonde Cougar into writing a post on her blog about that time I spent with her in New Hampshire from her perspective. She was, is, and always will be my Earthly Angel. Had it not been for her being there, helping me, comforting me, holding me when I cried uncontrollably and could not stop more times then I care to remember, giving me the courage to move forward and face things head on – I can honestly say that I most likely would be dead. I will never forget something she told me. “Red is a power color – YOUR power color. Wear it and kick some ass!” I still have that suit hon, even though it no longer fits. It is a reminder of what was, what has been, and the good that is yet to come.
If you are in a domestic violence situation, or even just *think* you might be, please, contact somebody. Tell a friend, write to me, write to The Crazy Blonde Cougar, call your local Department of Social Services, or contact the nearest Domestic Violence Coalition Office for help. All you need to do is to reach out…there are people there waiting to take your hand and help you through the darkness until you find the sunlight again.
You can find a Domestic Violence Coalition Office in your state here. Many thanks to the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence for their statistical and educational information that I have provided here.
God Bless.
Be 4 Peace
9/05/10
by: tmww
This is an absolutely wonderful endeavor you have taken on. I wish you nothing but success with your March. It is for a worthy cause, and I would be there if I were able to. Please post after the event here so we know how it turned out? Thanks!
Permalink | 1 comment Posted in: BE ALL THAT YOU CAN BE: B 4 Peace