It's been almost 2 years since I wrote on this blog. Intensely personal, it was painful at times reliving the memories of the past. But one thing is true... If I would not have changed my thought process, I might have ended up dead.
Yes, I'll admit that it took a very long time to recover from the emotional wounds that he inflicted on my life. The dreams are few and far between now, and I'm grateful. I relinquished my power to him for too long, and it resulted in giving me a broken heart, along a physical ailment that flares up when it's cold outside.
HOWEVER...
To say I'm grateful I had enough courage and strength to get out of that relationship doesn't even begin to describe how I feel today.
Monday, February 18, 2013
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
The Last 20 Years
I have come a long way since those days. More than 20 years has passed by since I was caught in this life. Sometimes it seems like yesterday, and other times, it seems like a lifetime ago. In fact, sometimes it seems that I am talking about someone else's life instead of my own.
My husband and I have been married for 20 years this August. Because of this time of my life and his former life, we have not always had the most healthy relationship. We are much better than we used to be, though! I recently heard that what happens in your life is 20%, and what you do about it is the other 80%. That is so true.
What is your reaction when trouble comes? It WILL come. James tells us this in the first chapter. We are to consider it "pure joy" WHEN we face trials "of many kinds." "For the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you will be mature and complete, not lacking anything." He also admonishes us to ask God for wisdom if we need it, and He will give it to us if we believe and not doubt. In 1:12, he says this. "Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love Him." (NIV) I want to be that person who stands.
God has been faithful to me always. I have not always been faithful to Him. I have been better about this over the years. Now, I can look back and be 100% sure that God has always loved me and has a plan for my life. When I stepped away into that life of hurt, lies and violence, I could have died. That was not God's plan for my life, though, and He steadily pulled me out of the muck and mire and gave me a place to stand. Psalm 40:2 says this, "He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along." (NLT)
That is the real story of my life. And I am grateful that He has used what the enemy of my soul meant for harm to make me into the masterpiece of His heart. Ephesians 2:10 says this: "For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago." (NLT)
Thankful doesn't even begin to describe how I feel today.
My husband and I have been married for 20 years this August. Because of this time of my life and his former life, we have not always had the most healthy relationship. We are much better than we used to be, though! I recently heard that what happens in your life is 20%, and what you do about it is the other 80%. That is so true.
What is your reaction when trouble comes? It WILL come. James tells us this in the first chapter. We are to consider it "pure joy" WHEN we face trials "of many kinds." "For the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you will be mature and complete, not lacking anything." He also admonishes us to ask God for wisdom if we need it, and He will give it to us if we believe and not doubt. In 1:12, he says this. "Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love Him." (NIV) I want to be that person who stands.
God has been faithful to me always. I have not always been faithful to Him. I have been better about this over the years. Now, I can look back and be 100% sure that God has always loved me and has a plan for my life. When I stepped away into that life of hurt, lies and violence, I could have died. That was not God's plan for my life, though, and He steadily pulled me out of the muck and mire and gave me a place to stand. Psalm 40:2 says this, "He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along." (NLT)
That is the real story of my life. And I am grateful that He has used what the enemy of my soul meant for harm to make me into the masterpiece of His heart. Ephesians 2:10 says this: "For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago." (NLT)
Thankful doesn't even begin to describe how I feel today.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
You Never Know What is Around the Corner!
I came back to town after that trip very refreshed and hopeful for my future. I had some messages from Don on my answering machine, but I deleted them. I wasn't interested in my life being the same as it was before I left.
I just knew there was someone out there for me. I had a feeling that he wasn't in my town, but he would be coming for me sometime.
I was still going to college part-time and working full-time. Things were going pretty well except for the occasional phone call and/or visit from Don.
I probably should have continued in counseling, but I didn't see how it would do any good. I went a few times early on, and I didn't feel that the counselor really cared too much for what happened with me... I felt that I was just another $70 visit.
So, deep inside of me, there were these gaping wounds that I was covering up. I tried to ignore them, but as you know, they never really go away. Yes, sometimes they are healed, but the scars remain, even if they are faded.
My sister and brother-in-law came over for dinner on April 12th. He put some mini-blinds up in my apartment for me, and I made dinner for them. We talked about my life and what had changed. I told them that I thought I would be fine without anyone special in my life. I was getting used to being alone, and it wasn't so bad.
Two days later, I met him.
I went to church that morning, and there was this really good-looking guy sitting next to my parents. So, I went over and introduced myself to him. I am usually not that bold, and I couldn't really believe I did it!
We didn't talk again until that night, but it was the day that changed both of our lives.
I just knew there was someone out there for me. I had a feeling that he wasn't in my town, but he would be coming for me sometime.
I was still going to college part-time and working full-time. Things were going pretty well except for the occasional phone call and/or visit from Don.
I probably should have continued in counseling, but I didn't see how it would do any good. I went a few times early on, and I didn't feel that the counselor really cared too much for what happened with me... I felt that I was just another $70 visit.
So, deep inside of me, there were these gaping wounds that I was covering up. I tried to ignore them, but as you know, they never really go away. Yes, sometimes they are healed, but the scars remain, even if they are faded.
My sister and brother-in-law came over for dinner on April 12th. He put some mini-blinds up in my apartment for me, and I made dinner for them. We talked about my life and what had changed. I told them that I thought I would be fine without anyone special in my life. I was getting used to being alone, and it wasn't so bad.
Two days later, I met him.
I went to church that morning, and there was this really good-looking guy sitting next to my parents. So, I went over and introduced myself to him. I am usually not that bold, and I couldn't really believe I did it!
We didn't talk again until that night, but it was the day that changed both of our lives.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Sometimes, You Just Gotta Believe
For the first time in a very long time, my life was taking on a sense of "normal." I still dealt with my insecurities and longing for someone to share my life with. But I began praying for forgiveness and mercy. And God showed up for me big time!
Even though I didn't feel like it some of the time, and even though my heart had been broken into a million pieces, I was still moving forward and trying to do the right thing. My life was being transformed little by little, even though I still slipped up occasionally.
That fall, I moved out of the apartment complex and into an apartment on the second floor of a two-story four-plex. It had two bedrooms and was very similar to the one I had lived in a couple of years earlier. I didn't have the nicest things, and I didn't even have a color television. But it was MY place, and I didn't really worry about much when I was living there. If anyone was walking up to my apartment, I could hear it and be prepared.
Don showed up there one night very drunk, and I took him back home to get him out of my hair. He called me later and blamed me for the problems he and Cindy were having. He beat her up again, and he tried to blame it on me. He said it was my fault. I think this was the first time that I didn't let him get to me. I knew it wasn't my fault. I told him to stop calling me, and to please leave me alone. In fact, one night, Cindy called me, and I told her that he was calling me and asked her if she could make him leave me alone.
1991 started, really with no fanfare, but on a good note. The time was getting nearer when my life was really getting ready to change. I felt in my heart that something was going to change, but I didn't really know what.
At the first of February, I went on a ski trip with my friends and pastor from church. I was so relieved that I wouldn't be home for several days, and Don couldn't call me and tell me how pitiful his life was. I couldn't be drawn into his misery if I was gone. There were no phones to call out, and he had no way to call me, either. He didn't even know I would be gone.
As I stood out on the balcony on a condo at Breckenridge, looking out at the snow-covered mountains, I made the plea to God that I had never made before. I prayed that if He would please just forgive my mistakes, would He please give me another chance with His choice for my life. I would wait for the man who was meant to be with me this time.
After I prayed, I felt peace come upon me like I had never had before. And I knew that God heard my prayer and was going to answer me.
We had such a great time on this trip. I really enjoyed being gone from home. On the long drive home, I sat in the front seat of the van and talked to my pastor about my life and all of the things that had happened. He had great words of encouragement for me, as he always did. He was very close friends with my parents, as we had all known each other for so long.
Unknown to me, God was working on my behalf. A man 1,500 miles away had just lost his job and began a traveling job, which would lead him directly to my town, to my church, and into my life.
Even though I didn't feel like it some of the time, and even though my heart had been broken into a million pieces, I was still moving forward and trying to do the right thing. My life was being transformed little by little, even though I still slipped up occasionally.
That fall, I moved out of the apartment complex and into an apartment on the second floor of a two-story four-plex. It had two bedrooms and was very similar to the one I had lived in a couple of years earlier. I didn't have the nicest things, and I didn't even have a color television. But it was MY place, and I didn't really worry about much when I was living there. If anyone was walking up to my apartment, I could hear it and be prepared.
Don showed up there one night very drunk, and I took him back home to get him out of my hair. He called me later and blamed me for the problems he and Cindy were having. He beat her up again, and he tried to blame it on me. He said it was my fault. I think this was the first time that I didn't let him get to me. I knew it wasn't my fault. I told him to stop calling me, and to please leave me alone. In fact, one night, Cindy called me, and I told her that he was calling me and asked her if she could make him leave me alone.
1991 started, really with no fanfare, but on a good note. The time was getting nearer when my life was really getting ready to change. I felt in my heart that something was going to change, but I didn't really know what.
At the first of February, I went on a ski trip with my friends and pastor from church. I was so relieved that I wouldn't be home for several days, and Don couldn't call me and tell me how pitiful his life was. I couldn't be drawn into his misery if I was gone. There were no phones to call out, and he had no way to call me, either. He didn't even know I would be gone.
As I stood out on the balcony on a condo at Breckenridge, looking out at the snow-covered mountains, I made the plea to God that I had never made before. I prayed that if He would please just forgive my mistakes, would He please give me another chance with His choice for my life. I would wait for the man who was meant to be with me this time.
After I prayed, I felt peace come upon me like I had never had before. And I knew that God heard my prayer and was going to answer me.
We had such a great time on this trip. I really enjoyed being gone from home. On the long drive home, I sat in the front seat of the van and talked to my pastor about my life and all of the things that had happened. He had great words of encouragement for me, as he always did. He was very close friends with my parents, as we had all known each other for so long.
Unknown to me, God was working on my behalf. A man 1,500 miles away had just lost his job and began a traveling job, which would lead him directly to my town, to my church, and into my life.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Transferring Your Emotions to Someone Else Does Not Help!
My friends, J & S, who set me up with K on New Year's Eve, had another friend, S, who lived in my apartment complex. In fact, he lived right across the parking lot from me. We sat and talked a lot. He had recently been divorced, too. He was going to ride with me to look at the new place that my friend had found for us to live in. He came over early on New Year's Day, and we went to see it.
It was nice having a guy friend who didn't really expect anything from me. He was single, but there were no indications of romance between us. A no-pressure relationship. Just what I needed at that point.
Even though Don was still calling me, I tried to stay away from him as best I could. I tried some counseling, but it wasn't helping me. I should have contacted another counselor, but I didn't. I just stopped going.
My friend, M, and I were still going out to the bar each weekend. There was this guy there that I thought I liked. Looking back, I seriously wonder why I would. I think I was just desperately wanting someone to care about me. He and I were just friends, but at times, I believe he led me on. That should have been okay for me, but because of my past, I wanted to believe it could be something more than it was.
This was before the Internet really became widespread, but I got involved with a singles meeting singles deal in a magazine, too. I had a date with a very nice guy, but it was when I was started to become more ill than I had ever been in my life. That winter/spring was horrible for my health, but I was working two jobs and going out when I could. My average hours of sleep each night was probably four. Maybe. The night I went out with him (it's terrible, but I can't even remember his name), I was so sick that I couldn't even hear him when he was talking to me, and my voice was almost gone. Not a good scene. He did call me back, but I told him that I just couldn't go out with him again because I wasn't over Don yet.
I had a lot more heartache during those months, too. And I did things I would not normally do.
My roommate and I started not getting along. I don't think it was her fault, but I tried to blame it on the difference in our beliefs about abortion and a bunch of other stuff. It was me trying to make excuses to get out of living there. I wasn't there much, and I spent most of my time at the other end of town, and I wanted to move over there.
Strangely enough, Don helped me move, along with my other guy friends. Strange. Weird.
He was now living with Cindy at her duplex, and I didn't see much of him. However, he did call me on the phone, though. And I did see him occasionally. For some reason, he wouldn't let go of me, and let me live my life.
After I moved into the new apartment, there was a strange peace coming into to my life. I didn't go out much anymore, and I was really trying to get my life together. The new apartment was in the same complex, actually right across the sidewalk, as my very first apartment. It was like my life was coming full circle.
It was also strange when I found out that a couple of my friends were actually interested in ME, not my friend. Of course, I was not interested in anything other than a friendship with them, and that is what we had developed.
That summer, I spent a lot of time with ME. I started seeing things about myself that I had forgotten. Even though Don was in and out of my life, especially when he was drunk, he didn't have the 100% power he used to have in my life.
He did show up at my apartment drunk in the middle of the night once, parked his motorcycle on my doorstep and passed out. After he left in the morning, my dad called and asked if he was at my apartment because Cindy had called my parents and told them that she thought he was with me. I said he wasn't there, but I didn't offer that he had been there. I was pretty hacked off, though. I told both of them to stop dragging me into the middle of their fights. It was coming to the point where I didn't want any part of it.
I think I was starting to get over it in some small way.
I was going to go out of town for work, and Don agreed to keep the dogs. He was the dog-sitter when I needed him to be. We were almost becoming friends more than anything else. The fact that he was with Cindy wasn't bothering me too much anymore. That's not to say that there weren't times when I felt guilty that I left him because there were those times.
The day I was getting ready to leave and take the dogs over to their house, he called to let me know that he had been in a terrible motorcycle accident that would have left him dead if he hadn't had a helmet on. When I did see him, he looked horrible. But I didn't feel guilty then. He was making these stupid decisions, and I was actually thankful that he wasn't my husband any longer.
One day that summer, I decided to go back to my old church again. A lot had happened in the 6+ years I had been gone, and many people knew about what had gone on in my life during this time. And they prayed for me. I think they probably didn't believe anymore that anything would change for me. Imagine their surprise when I showed up at church that first Sunday morning! It was great.
And I also enrolled in college part-time. I was going to begin pursuing my dream of becoming a teacher! That was so exciting to me because my life had been on hold for so long. I felt like I had been waiting for something to happen, and all those years had passed by with nothing to show for it.
I had sold my truck that spring, finally, so I didn't have to work two jobs. That was also helpful to my life. I was still working at the insurance company, and I was a better employee after my divorce and move.
I spent my time trying to get good grades in my classes instead of wondering if and when Don would call me. I was letting go little by little. Unfortunately, he still had a way of emotionally abusing me when he wanted to.
It was nice having a guy friend who didn't really expect anything from me. He was single, but there were no indications of romance between us. A no-pressure relationship. Just what I needed at that point.
Even though Don was still calling me, I tried to stay away from him as best I could. I tried some counseling, but it wasn't helping me. I should have contacted another counselor, but I didn't. I just stopped going.
My friend, M, and I were still going out to the bar each weekend. There was this guy there that I thought I liked. Looking back, I seriously wonder why I would. I think I was just desperately wanting someone to care about me. He and I were just friends, but at times, I believe he led me on. That should have been okay for me, but because of my past, I wanted to believe it could be something more than it was.
This was before the Internet really became widespread, but I got involved with a singles meeting singles deal in a magazine, too. I had a date with a very nice guy, but it was when I was started to become more ill than I had ever been in my life. That winter/spring was horrible for my health, but I was working two jobs and going out when I could. My average hours of sleep each night was probably four. Maybe. The night I went out with him (it's terrible, but I can't even remember his name), I was so sick that I couldn't even hear him when he was talking to me, and my voice was almost gone. Not a good scene. He did call me back, but I told him that I just couldn't go out with him again because I wasn't over Don yet.
I had a lot more heartache during those months, too. And I did things I would not normally do.
My roommate and I started not getting along. I don't think it was her fault, but I tried to blame it on the difference in our beliefs about abortion and a bunch of other stuff. It was me trying to make excuses to get out of living there. I wasn't there much, and I spent most of my time at the other end of town, and I wanted to move over there.
Strangely enough, Don helped me move, along with my other guy friends. Strange. Weird.
He was now living with Cindy at her duplex, and I didn't see much of him. However, he did call me on the phone, though. And I did see him occasionally. For some reason, he wouldn't let go of me, and let me live my life.
After I moved into the new apartment, there was a strange peace coming into to my life. I didn't go out much anymore, and I was really trying to get my life together. The new apartment was in the same complex, actually right across the sidewalk, as my very first apartment. It was like my life was coming full circle.
It was also strange when I found out that a couple of my friends were actually interested in ME, not my friend. Of course, I was not interested in anything other than a friendship with them, and that is what we had developed.
That summer, I spent a lot of time with ME. I started seeing things about myself that I had forgotten. Even though Don was in and out of my life, especially when he was drunk, he didn't have the 100% power he used to have in my life.
He did show up at my apartment drunk in the middle of the night once, parked his motorcycle on my doorstep and passed out. After he left in the morning, my dad called and asked if he was at my apartment because Cindy had called my parents and told them that she thought he was with me. I said he wasn't there, but I didn't offer that he had been there. I was pretty hacked off, though. I told both of them to stop dragging me into the middle of their fights. It was coming to the point where I didn't want any part of it.
I think I was starting to get over it in some small way.
I was going to go out of town for work, and Don agreed to keep the dogs. He was the dog-sitter when I needed him to be. We were almost becoming friends more than anything else. The fact that he was with Cindy wasn't bothering me too much anymore. That's not to say that there weren't times when I felt guilty that I left him because there were those times.
The day I was getting ready to leave and take the dogs over to their house, he called to let me know that he had been in a terrible motorcycle accident that would have left him dead if he hadn't had a helmet on. When I did see him, he looked horrible. But I didn't feel guilty then. He was making these stupid decisions, and I was actually thankful that he wasn't my husband any longer.
One day that summer, I decided to go back to my old church again. A lot had happened in the 6+ years I had been gone, and many people knew about what had gone on in my life during this time. And they prayed for me. I think they probably didn't believe anymore that anything would change for me. Imagine their surprise when I showed up at church that first Sunday morning! It was great.
And I also enrolled in college part-time. I was going to begin pursuing my dream of becoming a teacher! That was so exciting to me because my life had been on hold for so long. I felt like I had been waiting for something to happen, and all those years had passed by with nothing to show for it.
I had sold my truck that spring, finally, so I didn't have to work two jobs. That was also helpful to my life. I was still working at the insurance company, and I was a better employee after my divorce and move.
I spent my time trying to get good grades in my classes instead of wondering if and when Don would call me. I was letting go little by little. Unfortunately, he still had a way of emotionally abusing me when he wanted to.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Even If It Hurts, Move Forward
I think in my heart, I really, REALLY wanted to get over Don. I wanted to move on with my life, be healed and whole. Unfortunately, I didn't know how to do that.
He still called me. He still drove by my apartment on his motorcycle on his way home from work. He still tried to get me to be with him...on his terms. And sometimes, I did it. Sometimes, I was so lonely, and I gave in.
I don't really know why I didn't think I was important enough to have a good life. I do know that I was losing hope that I ever would.
During all this time, and probably for the duration of our marriage, Don had been looking for Cindy, the girlfriend I caught him with back in 1984. I don't think he ever got over her. I don't know what it was about her, except for the addiction cycle. She, too, according to him, was an alcoholic, so they had something in common. I had no sympathy for the girl, though, because she knew what he was, and she kept going back to him for more. Oh, wait! So was I.
Anyway, he found her somehow, and they hooked up again. In the midst of it all, he was still trying to work his tricks on me. And it was working.
It was November, and, as crazy as this sounds now, I had made up my mind that life would never get better for me, that everyone would be better off without me. I had everything all planned out. My doctor had given me anti-depressants, which worked like depressants instead, and I was going to take them all the weekend of Thanksgiving. Now, I obviously didn't give into these demons in my head, which is great, but I thought about it for a long time.
Instead of doing anything foolish, I spent a lot of the weekend with my family. My sister, her friend, and I went to the mall on the Sunday of Thanksgiving weekend, and I was so surprised when I saw him there... with her. I waited until they got past us, and I basically broke down. He didn't even see me, and he walked right by me!
I tried to not think about him and get over my feelings for him.
Each day brought new surprises. One day, he hated me; the next day, he said he made a mistake letting me go. Back and forth constantly with him really left me emotionally spent. I was also going out and drinking a lot. That wasn't helping me recover from my heartache. Even though the physical violence stopped, the emotional abuse was ongoing.
One night, he called and asked if I wanted to come over after he got off work and just stay over with him. I really debated about it because I knew that he was still seeing Cindy. But I did it anyway. I got to his apartment earlier than he did, and I sat in the parking area and waited. Then, Cindy showed up. So, I got out of my truck and went over and talked to her. I told her that he told me to meet him there, and she was drunk. And then he pulled up on his motorcycle. I went back to my truck, and they had a few words, and she left. We went inside, and he was obviously distraught over what took place.
She kept calling. Finally, at 3:00am, he talked to her, and I left. I went straight over to her house, rang her doorbell, and she let me in. We sat down like normal people (and this was NOT a normal situation) and had a two-hour conversation. She told me that he loved her, they were going to get married, blah, blah, blah. And I felt compassion for her because she really believed it. She was just as messed up as I was about him. Neither of us understood that love is not violence.
I decided when we were talking that I was really finished with all of this nonsense. And I really believed myself. After our conversation, I went back to his apartment, and I told him to leave me alone. And I meant it. I told him that I would not talk to him if he called, so to leave me alone. And I left.
Of course, he was calling and leaving messages that night. Ridiculous. I didn't answer for a while, but finally, I did. I reminded him of our conversation earlier that morning, but he didn't seem to remember it... or he wanted to keep me hanging.
In the meantime, my friend (she's the one who had the baby I liked to rock) called me. The father of the baby, her now-husband, had assaulted the baby, and she was in critical care. She was brain dead, and would I please come up there after work. Of course, I did. It was the saddest thing I had ever experienced in my life up to that point. My friend was so upset, too. I took her older girls home with me that day, and they spent the night with me. I took them to my mom's the next morning, and their dad picked them up for school. The baby died.
The funeral was on December 19th... the anniversary of my marriage to Don. It was so sad and something that didn't HAVE to happen.
Our divorce was final the next day. He didn't show up or anything. My friend went with me to court, and just like that, it was done. I was no longer tied to him...at least legally.
Sometime after this, Don received a letter in the mail stating that one of us needed to get a loan to take care of the situation with the Beretta. He was so mad! He couldn't get credit if his life depended on it, so he was hacked off. I stopped over there to look at the letter, and he was so angry that he threw beer in my face when I got there, and I was so upset that he did that, I was crying hysterically. When I got to my parents' house, my nose started bleeding. They thought that he hit me, but I told them he didn't. He just doused me in beer.
Well, I contacted the bank, got a loan, and I had two vehicles with two vehicle payments. I was going to try to sell my truck and get a part-time job to pay both payments. And I was moving out of my little apartment in February and in with one of my "lay-off" friends. I never knew that she was also being abused by her husband whom I thought was just so nice. They had been divorced that year, too. 1989 was not a good year at all for a lot of us. So, she and I decided we could get a really nice place for less than we were both paying, and we wouldn't have to be lonely, either.
I spent the last night of 1989 with my friends who set me up with a guy I had met years before. I had fully expected to have a good time with him because he was such a nice guy. It didn't really matter, though. All I could think about was Don and everything he had done to me. This was not the time for me to get involved with anyone else. It would end up being a disaster. So, 1989 went out quietly with a lot of tears, but I had high expectations for my next year.
I didn't know it, but out there 1,500 miles away from me was a man who had his own set of problems, and our worlds would eventually collide about 16 months later... and it would change everything for both of us.
He still called me. He still drove by my apartment on his motorcycle on his way home from work. He still tried to get me to be with him...on his terms. And sometimes, I did it. Sometimes, I was so lonely, and I gave in.
I don't really know why I didn't think I was important enough to have a good life. I do know that I was losing hope that I ever would.
During all this time, and probably for the duration of our marriage, Don had been looking for Cindy, the girlfriend I caught him with back in 1984. I don't think he ever got over her. I don't know what it was about her, except for the addiction cycle. She, too, according to him, was an alcoholic, so they had something in common. I had no sympathy for the girl, though, because she knew what he was, and she kept going back to him for more. Oh, wait! So was I.
Anyway, he found her somehow, and they hooked up again. In the midst of it all, he was still trying to work his tricks on me. And it was working.
It was November, and, as crazy as this sounds now, I had made up my mind that life would never get better for me, that everyone would be better off without me. I had everything all planned out. My doctor had given me anti-depressants, which worked like depressants instead, and I was going to take them all the weekend of Thanksgiving. Now, I obviously didn't give into these demons in my head, which is great, but I thought about it for a long time.
Instead of doing anything foolish, I spent a lot of the weekend with my family. My sister, her friend, and I went to the mall on the Sunday of Thanksgiving weekend, and I was so surprised when I saw him there... with her. I waited until they got past us, and I basically broke down. He didn't even see me, and he walked right by me!
I tried to not think about him and get over my feelings for him.
Each day brought new surprises. One day, he hated me; the next day, he said he made a mistake letting me go. Back and forth constantly with him really left me emotionally spent. I was also going out and drinking a lot. That wasn't helping me recover from my heartache. Even though the physical violence stopped, the emotional abuse was ongoing.
One night, he called and asked if I wanted to come over after he got off work and just stay over with him. I really debated about it because I knew that he was still seeing Cindy. But I did it anyway. I got to his apartment earlier than he did, and I sat in the parking area and waited. Then, Cindy showed up. So, I got out of my truck and went over and talked to her. I told her that he told me to meet him there, and she was drunk. And then he pulled up on his motorcycle. I went back to my truck, and they had a few words, and she left. We went inside, and he was obviously distraught over what took place.
She kept calling. Finally, at 3:00am, he talked to her, and I left. I went straight over to her house, rang her doorbell, and she let me in. We sat down like normal people (and this was NOT a normal situation) and had a two-hour conversation. She told me that he loved her, they were going to get married, blah, blah, blah. And I felt compassion for her because she really believed it. She was just as messed up as I was about him. Neither of us understood that love is not violence.
I decided when we were talking that I was really finished with all of this nonsense. And I really believed myself. After our conversation, I went back to his apartment, and I told him to leave me alone. And I meant it. I told him that I would not talk to him if he called, so to leave me alone. And I left.
Of course, he was calling and leaving messages that night. Ridiculous. I didn't answer for a while, but finally, I did. I reminded him of our conversation earlier that morning, but he didn't seem to remember it... or he wanted to keep me hanging.
In the meantime, my friend (she's the one who had the baby I liked to rock) called me. The father of the baby, her now-husband, had assaulted the baby, and she was in critical care. She was brain dead, and would I please come up there after work. Of course, I did. It was the saddest thing I had ever experienced in my life up to that point. My friend was so upset, too. I took her older girls home with me that day, and they spent the night with me. I took them to my mom's the next morning, and their dad picked them up for school. The baby died.
The funeral was on December 19th... the anniversary of my marriage to Don. It was so sad and something that didn't HAVE to happen.
Our divorce was final the next day. He didn't show up or anything. My friend went with me to court, and just like that, it was done. I was no longer tied to him...at least legally.
Sometime after this, Don received a letter in the mail stating that one of us needed to get a loan to take care of the situation with the Beretta. He was so mad! He couldn't get credit if his life depended on it, so he was hacked off. I stopped over there to look at the letter, and he was so angry that he threw beer in my face when I got there, and I was so upset that he did that, I was crying hysterically. When I got to my parents' house, my nose started bleeding. They thought that he hit me, but I told them he didn't. He just doused me in beer.
Well, I contacted the bank, got a loan, and I had two vehicles with two vehicle payments. I was going to try to sell my truck and get a part-time job to pay both payments. And I was moving out of my little apartment in February and in with one of my "lay-off" friends. I never knew that she was also being abused by her husband whom I thought was just so nice. They had been divorced that year, too. 1989 was not a good year at all for a lot of us. So, she and I decided we could get a really nice place for less than we were both paying, and we wouldn't have to be lonely, either.
I spent the last night of 1989 with my friends who set me up with a guy I had met years before. I had fully expected to have a good time with him because he was such a nice guy. It didn't really matter, though. All I could think about was Don and everything he had done to me. This was not the time for me to get involved with anyone else. It would end up being a disaster. So, 1989 went out quietly with a lot of tears, but I had high expectations for my next year.
I didn't know it, but out there 1,500 miles away from me was a man who had his own set of problems, and our worlds would eventually collide about 16 months later... and it would change everything for both of us.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
People Don't Change Just Because YOU Want Them To
So, the month of September, I was busy scurrying around, sneaking around and planning my move back in with Don. I didn't tell anyone. But he and I went out and bought a washer, dryer with a new credit account. And we also bought a new car. It was a 1988 Chevrolet Beretta. It was a very cool car! I told him that I didn't want him driving that car if he was drinking, and I don't even remember if he agreed. All I know is that he did go out and drink in that car. And when I found out, it was a done deal for me.
There had been no violence again up until this point, but this is what did it.
It was October. I was gradually moving my belongings in with him (by myself - that should have given me the clue that he really didn't want me there), and I saw the car at the neighborhood bar he went to. It made me so angry!
I stopped in there, told him that it was over, and I was taking the car and giving it back to the bank. And I left in my truck to go to his house to start retrieving my stuff.
By the time I got there and got in, he came speeding into the driveway and ran up the stairs. When he got in, he told me to give him my keys to the car and that I wasn't going to turn it back into the bank. I told him I would not give him the keys, so he basically punched me in the stomach so hard that it knocked the keys right out of my hand. Fortunately, I saw where the door key landed. He had me down the ground, was straddling me so I couldn't get up, and he was yelling at me. I thought You know, I have one chance to hurt him, so I'm gonna take it. And I kicked him in the face. His head turned to the side and back to the front, just like Arnold in The Terminator. He finally let me up again. I guess he figured he got his keys.
I called the police, and they showed up. They saw the hand marks and scratches across my neck, but they said there was no evidence of any wrongdoing. And because my name was not on his lease, and even though my belongings were at his place, I had to leave.
I couldn't believe it!
So, I casually picked up the door key and shoved it in my pocket and went back to my apartment. Unfortunately, he came there after me.
I got out of my apartment and locked the door somehow, and I was walking along the sidewalk to my truck as he was walking along with me and yelling. All of a sudden, he balled up his fist and slammed it into my chest. The impact knocked me backwards and I landed on my back on the ground. Of course, he kept on walking, yelling at me, while I stayed behind.
I stayed home from work the next day and went to the doctor. This was the same doctor who had treated my burns. He just said, "He is bad news, and he's going to hurt you really bad if you don't get away from him."
I knew he was right.
He was "nice enough" to leave his door unlocked, and some of my friends helped me get the rest of my stuff out of the apartment.
I finally talked to two of my best friends about it. One of them already knew from before, but I told the other one, too. And one night, we three were together drinking, and they told me that if I decided I was going back to him again, we couldn't be friends anymore. They just couldn't take seeing what was happening to me. At the time, I thought it was horrible, but that took a lot of guts to do that.
When I finally got my wits about me, I called a friend of mine (from before who knew what was going on), and he drove me to the car dealership. I told them what happened, and they made me a new ignition key. Then, my friend drove me to Don's house where I got out of my friend's car, opened up the car, got in, started it up, and drove it into my friend's garage. I shut the door and called the bank. It had been less than a month since the transaction, and they came and picked up the car.
Unfortunately for me, Don had left a lot of things in the car...his wallet, his clothes and his loaded gun.
The Receptionist at my office, along with my boss and some other people, knew what was going on, and she alerted me when he called the office looking for me. Another friend was going out of town that weekend, and she loaned me her car to drive and I was staying at her place instead of my own. My truck was locked up in our friends' garage.
Oh, I'm sure he was so angry!
When the Receptionist called and told me she thought he would be coming up to the office, I immediately left. He was there looking for me right afterward. It was a good thing I got away when I did.
His mom called my answering machine and left a message for me to call her. I did call, and she said she would meet me to get his things. I had no problem with that. So, I did. I took a friend, had my friend give her the bag, and she left.
WOW. Looking back at this, I seriously cannot believe it.
There had been no violence again up until this point, but this is what did it.
It was October. I was gradually moving my belongings in with him (by myself - that should have given me the clue that he really didn't want me there), and I saw the car at the neighborhood bar he went to. It made me so angry!
I stopped in there, told him that it was over, and I was taking the car and giving it back to the bank. And I left in my truck to go to his house to start retrieving my stuff.
By the time I got there and got in, he came speeding into the driveway and ran up the stairs. When he got in, he told me to give him my keys to the car and that I wasn't going to turn it back into the bank. I told him I would not give him the keys, so he basically punched me in the stomach so hard that it knocked the keys right out of my hand. Fortunately, I saw where the door key landed. He had me down the ground, was straddling me so I couldn't get up, and he was yelling at me. I thought You know, I have one chance to hurt him, so I'm gonna take it. And I kicked him in the face. His head turned to the side and back to the front, just like Arnold in The Terminator. He finally let me up again. I guess he figured he got his keys.
I called the police, and they showed up. They saw the hand marks and scratches across my neck, but they said there was no evidence of any wrongdoing. And because my name was not on his lease, and even though my belongings were at his place, I had to leave.
I couldn't believe it!
So, I casually picked up the door key and shoved it in my pocket and went back to my apartment. Unfortunately, he came there after me.
I got out of my apartment and locked the door somehow, and I was walking along the sidewalk to my truck as he was walking along with me and yelling. All of a sudden, he balled up his fist and slammed it into my chest. The impact knocked me backwards and I landed on my back on the ground. Of course, he kept on walking, yelling at me, while I stayed behind.
I stayed home from work the next day and went to the doctor. This was the same doctor who had treated my burns. He just said, "He is bad news, and he's going to hurt you really bad if you don't get away from him."
I knew he was right.
He was "nice enough" to leave his door unlocked, and some of my friends helped me get the rest of my stuff out of the apartment.
I finally talked to two of my best friends about it. One of them already knew from before, but I told the other one, too. And one night, we three were together drinking, and they told me that if I decided I was going back to him again, we couldn't be friends anymore. They just couldn't take seeing what was happening to me. At the time, I thought it was horrible, but that took a lot of guts to do that.
When I finally got my wits about me, I called a friend of mine (from before who knew what was going on), and he drove me to the car dealership. I told them what happened, and they made me a new ignition key. Then, my friend drove me to Don's house where I got out of my friend's car, opened up the car, got in, started it up, and drove it into my friend's garage. I shut the door and called the bank. It had been less than a month since the transaction, and they came and picked up the car.
Unfortunately for me, Don had left a lot of things in the car...his wallet, his clothes and his loaded gun.
The Receptionist at my office, along with my boss and some other people, knew what was going on, and she alerted me when he called the office looking for me. Another friend was going out of town that weekend, and she loaned me her car to drive and I was staying at her place instead of my own. My truck was locked up in our friends' garage.
Oh, I'm sure he was so angry!
When the Receptionist called and told me she thought he would be coming up to the office, I immediately left. He was there looking for me right afterward. It was a good thing I got away when I did.
His mom called my answering machine and left a message for me to call her. I did call, and she said she would meet me to get his things. I had no problem with that. So, I did. I took a friend, had my friend give her the bag, and she left.
WOW. Looking back at this, I seriously cannot believe it.
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