Inspiration of a survivor

Today I sit here inspired by 2 people, Amy and Mo as I listen to their first podcast. They address issues on Mental Health and the stigma that comes along. Both are near and dear to me as I have worked along side them for the past 3-4 years in a psychiatric Hospital. In that inspiration, I pulled up my blog that I started and never opened again until today. The 1st blog I ever created was shortly after I had my daughter who is now 5 years old was born. I lost the site and my page and ended up creating this one last year. I just reposted my first blog after I corrected the errors from my original post on Dec 29, 2020. Updating it caused it to show it was posted today.

As I read my small post I reflected on where I am today from a year ago and so forth. Last year I started to blog and to document my journey. I am a domestic violence survivor. I never really shared my story except to a bare minimum. I felt so dumb even remotely telling anyone what my home life was like. I didn't have friends outside of work. The only person I really was allowed to talk to was my Mother-in-law. Anyone else would cause tension in my home and I never wanted that. I met my ex husband on Myspace and we can all laugh about how that sounds. I was friends with his family. I called his Aunt "Mom," I never knocked when visiting and attended family events. I knew his family just not him. His cousin posted to add him as he was stationed at Camp Pendleton and didn't have any friends in Southern California. Our first interaction on Myspace was him sending me a Booty Call Agreement and it being me, I filled it out. We talked online and had our first date Jan 1, 2010. We instantly clicked and  most of our relationship was with him deployed in Iraq. He proposed while overseas and I started wedding planning. We married on Oct. 8, 2010. It may not makes sense to marry so quickly but he was so charming and everything I could ever want. Not only that, it is different when you are in the military or dating someone who is enlisted. It is normal for rushed marriages. So all the signs were there when he came home and I didn't know how to swallow my pride. I wasn't able to stop and say this isn't right. I noticed his drinking when we were first started dating and never thought anything of it as he slowly cut back to prepare for his deployment. I never knew what I was walking into as we really had a long distance relationship that was either emails or skype calls and lots of care packages. 

Once home, the drinking was heavy. The anger, rage and everything that comes from trauma. I became the focus of it all. Our first big fight, he accused me of telling his mom she had to purchase a $200 dress for our wedding. He called her to prove it to me. He became so enraged even though she told him I didn't. As I tried calming him, it quickly escalated. He cornered me, clinched his fist and told me "if you are going to act like a man, I am going to treat you like a man." He was heavily intoxicated and there was no reasoning or calming him. It came to him breaking his phone and attempting to leave. Which, I can't justify or change what happened over 10 years ago I stopped him from leaving. I stood in the door and tried to get his keys. I don't remember all the small details past that of that particular night, but this became an everyday occurrence. At this time in my life I lived with my dad and he was witness to all this and never stepped in, never said anything. The issues got worse on a daily basis. He would tell me how he deployed for me and things I owed him for his sacrifice. We never saw eye to eye an I can still remember how I knew he needed time to adjust to being home. I felt I owed it to him to allow him to adjust to life after deployment with PTSD. So I married him. We lived with my dad for 7 months or so before moving into our first apartment in which things got worse.

 I still remember the first time he put his hands on me like it was yesterday. His brother was visiting from Idaho and we were sitting on the couch, arguing. Always arguing. I never was submissive to someone who wanted so badly to dominate and control everything I did. So we argued. He told me to go to the room and I refused which resulted in him grabbing me off the couch and shoving me multiple times until I was in the bedroom with one last final push throwing partially across the room onto the floor. I left our home and went for a walk, called his Mom and told her. Like I said she was the only person I was allowed to talk to. If I talked to anyone else he would flip on me and accuse me of telling people about our relationship. Which I didn't in fear of what would happen to me. So I left and sat by the mailboxes ugly crying talking to his Mom who is also a domestic violence survivor. It was typical for me to leave and go on walks in hopes of him passing out drunk. He typically drank a half gallon of whiskey a night. I learned to stay sober and alert for the days I would need to flea from our home. Usually we hosted dinner parties and fit the mold of a happy home. I knew if I reported him to the military that he would get a dishonorable discharge and I never wanted him to get in trouble. I loved him and wanted to protect him. He contemplated going to Germany and while I took a long time thinking about living overseas with him, I was terrified of what my life would be like. I didn't want to move far and be alone ,away from my family and friends who I was already slowing being isolated from. He didn't re-enlist and got out Sept of 2010 which is how I found myself in Idaho.

I moved up here transferring to the hospital I currently work at. He drove me up a month before he got out as his dates kept changing and I kept putting my transfer on hold. I remember at the time thinking about how I just wanted to move back in with my dad and stay in California but I was married and still didn't know how to ask for help. I lived with his Mom, Step-dad, Grandmother and brother with their 12 cats and 2 dogs while I waited for him. By the time he got to Idaho I was ready to have my own home so I quickly searched for our first place in Idaho. We moved in a 3 bedroom duplex. It didn't get better moving to Idaho it got worse. Now I was 16 hours away from my family and friends who I was already isolated from and had virtually no one but him. I did everything I could to maintain a happy home. I would come home from work to an angry drunk man and never knew what I was getting into. He wasn't working and collected unemployment and then went back to college. Our plan was for him to go to school while I supported us and then for him to support us so I could finish following my dreams to become a nurse. We allowed my brother to live with us which caused even more fights, tension, jealousy. My brother and my ex had this weird bromance between them which was great at first. I had hesitation when he invited my brother to move to Idaho because I knew my home life, even though I never shared it. I kicked my ex out, went to my employer and asked them to transfer back to Cali so I could leave the situation I was in. I remember speaking to HR and she talked me into staying, had one of the Dr.s put me on a leave of absence and just told me to take the time to think about what was going on instead of being impulsive. So I did. I stayed even though my dad and step mom were half way here to help me move back home. I listened to him plea with me to stay with him. All his false promises. My brother plead with with to leave him but I didn't listen. He was there watching first hand all the abuse  I was going through. After my ex moved back in he laughed about all the promises, telling me he lied and how stupid I was to believe him. 

I ended up paying for a moving truck for my brother to help get him out if the bad situation I was living in as it made it worse with him being there. One night, I sat in my brothers room, watching TV, visiting with him. My ex pounded on the door, demanding that I leave the room, I couldn't even visit my brother as I wasn't giving my ex the attention he wanted. He heated up tortilla oil and poured it all over my bed that night. There were days he would torment me all night. He wasn't working, he attended school or so I thought. I helped him study at times, encouraged him to do better as he was academic probation. Shortly after my brother left and us trying to work on things, I tried to get pregnant. We tried together while I took a prescription med to help with pregnancy. I thought it was normal with all the questions my Dr. asked related to abuse as I was pregnant. Whatever they saw at the time, I denied. In July of 2011 I found out I was pregnant. We had a camping trip a week before where he kicked me repeatedly in the abdomen. I climbed over him to get out of our bed to take my step daughter to the bathroom which woke him up and he was pissed. It was my fault for disturbing his sleep. I told his mother, as I always told her the full extent of it. So, when the Dr. asked me at my appointment, I denied any type of abuse. Was it my ticket out? I still wanted to protect him. I wasn't ready and it never did get better.

 I was the only one working and I came home early one night from work, forgetting to pick up my son from his moms. I walked in the house to him home and drunk when he should have been at school. He used his GI bill and took out loans to buy himself expensive items while I struggled to pay the bills. Finally I told him enough was enough and to get a job. Not only was I working and supporting us, but I did all the household chores while he sat around leaving a mess for me. We lost our home as I didn't have the money to pay for rent and the owner gave us a pay or quit. I asked him to give me time to catch up but he wouldn't. We moved into a new home and he eventually did quit school and start working. We split bills and I was always reminded how he paid for our apartment in California so I needed to make up for it. I always worked extra hard and took extra shifts to survive what I was going through. I stopped allowing hard alcohol after a while and usually he would avoid it and just drink beer. Somedays he would sneak it and I always knew from the way he would treat me. Life in our new house didn't improve any. He would hide my things, break them, take them, short me on money for bills, destroy our home. I did what I could. He never paid his student loans so I worked towards getting his credit good so we could buy a home. I tried not to long after moving Idaho but our debt to credit ratio was too high at the time as I was the only one working. We filed for bankruptcy not long after moving to Idaho as I couldn't maintain our home and the majority of the bills. So I spent years getting our credit good so we could invest. No matter how hard he tried to pull me down I always climbed that mountain. 

One night either in April or May of 2015, I came home to him intoxicated. The counter was full of Moonshine bottles that he had drank. That night was the end to all the physical abuse. I tried putting my son to sleep in his bed as we co-slept for many years as he was 3 now. My ex went to lay with him to comfort him. I was terrified of him sleeping in the bed with our son. He had twin bed but all I could think about was all the nights he would pass out and roll on top of me. I never could move him off of me as he would pass and be dead to the world with all his alcohol consumption. So this night, I was  afraid for my sons life sleeping in this bed with his dad. I woke my ex up to get him out of the bed, knowing he would be angry and take it out on me. I knew to not ever wake him after he had been drinking. He was so angry and belligerent. He kicked our dog out of the way and I minimized it again to protect him. This night though, after waking him up, I had to pay for the aftermath. Yes, I could have just grabbed my son out of the bed, but I was really trying to get him to sleep in his own room. So as my husband was yelling and screaming at me and my son who was screaming and crying, I tried to get him to bed and leave the situation by walking away. Not that it helped. He followed me and I pleaded for him to leave me alone and to allow our son to sleep. He pulled me out of the bed by my hair and swung at me, at my face and I covered it while I braced myself for what was coming. Only, I couldn't. My son wrapped himself around my head and screamed the most bone chilling scream you can imagine your child screaming "Daddy, no!" My ex let go of me and stopped, picking up an unknown item (at the time) and throwing it. Glass came shattering down on us both hitting not only me, but my child. My ex, calmly sat on the couch and acted as nothing happened as I grabbed my child, my purse, our house phone and slipped shoes on. It was cold out, I buckled my son in the front seat and grabbed the carseat out of the truck with shaking hands that I could hardly get to work. I called his mom panicked and the phone disconnected. We didn't have cell phones as I couldn't afford them. I drove to her house where she helped me call the police. 

I still was afraid to fully answer questions and wanted to protect him. Not myself, but him. I didn't know what he threw, I just knew my sons terror and I couldn't live like that. That night he was arrested and a protection order was placed. He spent the night in jail for domestic battery in the presence of a child. His mom came and got some of his stuff the next day after he placed bail. I didn't want any part in helping the prosecuting attorney's office with the case. I was told I would be arrested if I didn't cooperate with them. I denied everything and anything that would build a case against me ex, still protecting him. I fought the NCO order. At first it was lifted so he could see his son and so his mom could help watch him. The daycare was great. She kept my child after hours where he became a part of their family so I could work but I needed more help not having any friends or family in Idaho. I cooperated with the attorney minimally while I fought the NCO. I went to my Domestic Violence court ordered classes and did all the steps. Learned what was needed in order to fight the protection order. The attorney told me my ex was going to listen to the recording of my police statement. When you commit a crime you have the right to hear the full accusation. I was terrified but I still fought the order.  I wasn't ready to be done but the state of Idaho was forcing me into it to protect me. I still wanted to protect him. I helped get his charges lowered. I believe his final charge was disturbing the peace. I assured the attorney I would be okay.

After he moved back in I tearfully wrote the Prosecuting attorney a letter with everything my ex had done to me over the years explaining how you cant force someone into something they were ready for. I sent it anonymously to still protect my husband. I wasn't ready for the anger that was coming my way. My ex had a court order to not drink and worked nights, he usually would call the drug courts number first thing after work to make sure his number wasn't called to come in to be drug tested and to breath into the breathalyzer. After that, he would sit and get drunk. His anger towards me was worse. He was angry I called the cops, angry he was arrested, angry for what I told the cop. It was all my fault and he took it out on me even more just not physically. It became verbal, emotional and financial but the verbal was way worse than before. I used my resources provided by the victim advocate and started searching for an apartment. I used my email in fear of them calling our house. That September we went camping as we did every year for our birthdays. I was expecting to start while on our trip and knew then I was pregnant with my daughter. I told him I was late. I didn't have a test but I could tell. His mom wanted to know why I didn't drink the bottle of wine she bought me that night. I purchased a test shortly after getting home from our trip and sure enough I was pregnant. I got wrapped up in the excitement. I joyfully told him. I stopped looking for an apartment. I didn't know how I would make it on my own and didn't believe I could. I stayed.

During all this time, I continued to work hard to purchase out first home, getting his credit where it needed to be. It took me 3 years to fix his credit. We eventually bought our home in Oct 2016 and moved in the beginning of November. I did it, I worked hard to get everything I had in spite of all my obstacles. I still I never felt I could do it on my own. My ex was still drinking, life wasn't happy but I was getting to where I wanted. I had a family like I always dreamed of. My ex was accepted into a heavy equipment operating class that was free. While he went to Northern Idaho I took on all the roles more than I already did. I took the kids to his moms before picked them up after work, maintained all the household chores and kept us afloat with just my income. He didn't find a job at first as a heavy equipment operator and went to work for a water company, finally making a better income than me. I dont know how but I did it all making $14 an hour.

As these next few years until our separation and divorce, I take my certification, became a lead tach and get a pay raise. On the days I would work 16 hour shifts, I would come home to my kid awake and my ex passed out drunk. I was still not living in peace. I spent many years working on myself, learning to love myself. Something he took from me. All the years of verbal abuse, the most that weighed on me was being told how fat and disgusting I was. Never being told how worthless or dumb, but my weight. I ended up over 200lbs and worked to lose 76 of those, worked to gain confidence. The thing was, it wasn't a better at home. I was still walking on eggshells. I would come home from work and go for power walks and push myself hard. The more I walked the angrier I got. One day at work, I was talking to a co-worker and he pointed out that is wasn't a healthy coping skill. It set the anger into sadness. That night I went for a walk and cried the entire time. I finally knew what I needed to do after all this time. I asked my ex to do marriage counselling for one last hope to salvage whatever there was. We did our triage appointment. The covering therapist recommended individual therapy in order for us to manage our anger before anything was discussed together. I mentioned the abuse that day and it set my ex off in front of the therapist. Our second session was with the therapist who helped me come to my decision. He did not see the point of us doing individual therapy as there would be rapport with one and not the other. We went to the VA as anything else would have come from my pocket, I wanted counseling and he didn't. I, as a spouse, could only receive counseling through the VA if we went together. My ex had his session to establish his social history and such. Then we had ours together the following week or so. 

To do marriage counselling our time had to be divided, I go in for my 30 minutes as the last 15 would be together. Our counselor asked what I wanted when I told my ex I wanted a divorce. I immediately started to cry. I told him I felt trapped and that I didn't think I could make it on my own. He asked me what I willing to lose and walk away from to find my happiness. We discussed how my ex was only going as I wanted it and how he was not willing to put in any effort. He explained how if he was coming on his own he would be dropped from therapy. We didn't even last 5 minutes into our 15 minute session together. My ex was angry, felt I was bad mouthing him and telling lies so he stormed out. I sat there in that room, I wasn't leaving, not yet. I had enough. I wiped my tears and eventually left. That was our one and only actual session and he couldn't even do it. But that day I gained so much insight to what will never change if I stay. I pondered over everything that was said that day before he came in.  Eventually, I decided I was willing to walk away from everything I had worked hard for. Me, I WORKED HARD FOR IT! That following November, we drove to Arco to pick up dogs for our kids for Christmas. He changed our plans last minute, put me down for all the decisions and plans I made for this trip. He yelled and criticized me the entire drive there and back. Nothing I did as usual, was right. I was done in that moment during that trip. Enough was enough.

After getting home from the trip, I asked him to cut the meat I had cooked for dinner for our kids, then ages 7 and 3. He cut bigger bites than what would fit into my mouth and all the meat. He was drunk as usual and blew up on me. He yelled how nothing he does is right, how I criticize him and threw his normal adult temper tantrum. I calmly walked into the other room where he was sitting. I told him, "I am done, I want a divorce." He yelled, told me he was done and to file. 3 hours later, I walked back down the stairs and calmly told him again, "I am done, I want a divorce." You see, after all these years and him threatening me with a divorce, I never once told him those words, as I wasn't ready. November 2, 2019 after years of abuse I was finally strong enough. I finally loved myself enough to swallow my pride that I didn't know how to swallow before we even married. The next week at work was rough, I told everyone and asked them to just talk and distract me if I was crying. I knew I needed the help to stay out of my head, and they did. I stirred up old wounds, I was scared, living in fear from all my past trauma. I went to an attorney, brought all my abuse records, sent recordings of him blowing up on me. Started counselling through my works EAP. I tried to do what I could to get out of this situation. I asked myfamily for help for money for my retainer. I will never forget my mother's reaction. She replied, "hurts, doesn't it, now you now how I feel."

I did it though. It wasn't easy at all. I wrote him a 7 page letter telling him what he did to me. He read it and looked at me and told me "you didn't put any of the things you did to me in there." I asked him what I did to him, was it not doing what I was told, not using the right tone, looking at him wrong. That letter and his response was some of the best therapy for me as I knew he would never change. I finally found my strength that he took from me the first fight after he came home from Iraq. We lived together for 11 months after that. I spent many days fixing the house to prepare for selling it. I still had to deal with the normal day-to-day agreements during this time. We did mediation as I felt financially defeated with the costs of court. I learned that while I was willing to walk away from everything, I didn't have to. Everything I bought during our marriage I was keeping and he kept what he bought. That meant, I pretty much kept everything and he virtually got nothing. My anger lessoned over time and I eventual agreed to give him more of the things I had worked towards. During the time it took to sell our first home, I applied to college. I decided I had too much on my plate with a divorce, working and selling our home. He helped a little to get it ready, but he still carried his anger towards me as usual and left it all for me. One day he would do anything and beg me to take him back, the next we would yell and scream like normal.

He still stirred my past traumas while living together even though there was more peace between us. We slept in separate rooms but he'd still come barging in yelling. I still had days of living in fear from my past. He still played his games. He barricaded me out of the house one night. He would tell me it was his home since it was a VA loan and he would then try to kick me out. So this night, I went out and he put the living room furniture in front of the door, unplugged the garage door and texted me to not come home as I wouldn't return his calls or texts. He demanded that I did as he said, still trying to control me. It made him mad when I would go out. I threatened to call the cops on him if he didn't let me back in. He screamed at me for hours waking our kids. I was still living in my nightmare even though we were legally separated. I found a small fixer upper, we sold our home and I finally started my new journey. Next month will be a year that I have lived in my home. I try to maintain a good relationship with my ex for my children sake. 

I have learned so many things through my years on this earth and one was to hold onto anger. I had no peace in my home. The person I am today is different than who I was before all the abuse and a different person than I was making the decision to walk away. My smile today isn't forced. I truly feel happiness for the first time in longer than I can remember. I'm not saying I never had happy moments during my marriage and honestly our last year together before our separation, was one of the best years we had together.  I remember the girl I was, who I became through my marriage and who I want to be. I have a story that simply can't be summed up in a few paragraphs. A story to inspire others. I am a survivor, I am strong and I was meant for great things. So listening to Amy and Mo's podcast reminded me today that it is ok to be sad at times. It is okay to visit my past. I choose not to live in it. I have overcome a lot! While keeping quiet is what some people would like, I don't have to. I choose to inspire those who need it, always. And if you don't want to be the bad guy in someone else's story; learn to be the hero. Here is to new beginnings, healing the past and working towards having the life I was always destined for.