A Survivor’s Story
Have you ever been at a point where nothing in your life matters because it couldn’t get any worse? I have and that is something I never want to do again. It all started on a beautiful spring day in early May 2000. I was happily conversing with two co-workers when Brian walked in. He was hollering and ranting and raving. I quickly ran over to him, and that is when bad became worse. He pulled my arm and dragged me out of the door, threw me into his truck, and sped off. He was hollering about $150 that I charged on the credit card. At first I was not worried. He had hollered and yelled before, but nothing ever came of it. When we got home, it became a nightmare. He began pushing me and calling me names. Then came the fist and throwing me downstairs. In my mind I could not make sense of why all of this was over $150. Then I smelled the beer on his breath. Brian had been drinking and that is when my mind began to travel back.
We had only been together a few months in early March of 1998 when we went to a bridal/groom shower for his best friend’s brother. Brian was drinking and I was dancing with his nephew’s best friend. Brian jumped up and dragged me out and we raced home at speeds up to 90 mph, dodging in and out of traffic. When we got home, it seemed to die down. But the next few weeks, I was told where to go, with who I could go with, and every other aspect of life was also dictated to me. Finally I had enough. I packed my things and left. Brian called, often begging me to come back and insisting that it had been the alcohol and not him.
We started dating slowly and by June, we were finally happy again and Brian hadn’t had a drink in 3 months. In January 1999, we found out that we were having a baby. Our lives were perfect until he found the beer again. As I lay on the floor, reality finally came back to me. I had to take our daughter and get out. Brian went to the bedroom and locked the door. I grabbed Sara and out the door we went. No clothes, diapers, or anything, just her car seat and a bottle. When Brian realized we were gone, he raced out the door and finally found us. He raced up behind us, almost forcing us off the road and threatening to kill me. I made my way to my mother’s where the neighbors called the police. Brian was arrested and Sara and I were forced into a battered woman’s shelter for 2 weeks. After court, Brian called again. He promised to get help for his problems and again blamed it on the alcohol.
We have started dating again and he goes to both AA and anger management classes. He seems to be a new man, though he knows that if he makes one more mistake, he will lose everything. As for me, I am careful not to put myself in a situation where my daughter would be in danger.
Christina’s Story
I have finally left my abuser. What a victory! I was in this relationship for 12 years. A lot of people have said, “Why don’t you just leave him?” Until you are in this type of relationship, you would not understand. I am going to let you know a little about it.
I fell for this man because he was handsome and strong. The beginning of the relationship was great; he took real good care of me. He provided for all of our needs. I did not have to work. He would buy me nice things and take me out to eat all the time. Later in the relationship, after I became pregnant, was the first time he hit me. I was scared; I had no family around and did not know what to do. He beat me so bad that my own mother would not have been able to recognize me. One New Year’s Eve I said something and he back handed me and bloodied my nose. Another time, when I was trying to leave, he forcibly took our daughter out of my hands while he was hitting me. I had to call the police and they put me in my first safe house. During the relationship, he would tell me that I could not get anyone better than him. That I have it good with him and no one would give me the things that I have been able to get from him. On the other hand, he would tell me that if I left him, he would hunt me down and kill me. He would say that if he cannot have me, then no one else could.
When you have been alienated from your family and told that they are just trying to break the relationship up, you tend to believe it. When you have been told these things time after time, you believe them. I now know that they were lies. A woman has to realize that it is not normal but until she does, she will continue being beaten up by the one she loves. She thinks it is love but it is only control. I am glad that I found that out while I am still not too old to enjoy life without him.
Kelly’s Story
The shoe on the left represents my past. Jammed in it are wires, springs, and other sharp objects which represent all the anger, hurt, and pain
that I stuffed inside for many years. Anger at my abusers for the hurt and pain they inflicted upon us and anger at myself for tolerating the abuse.
The shoe on the right represents my future. It is empty, free of all the anger, hurt, and pain. Right now I am somewhere in between, learning from the past and looking forward to the future.
Lisa, Richie, and Destiny’s Story
These three pairs of shoes represent three victims of domestic violence. Tragically the two smallest victims did not survive. Richie and Destiny died on September 9th and 10th, 1999. Their father, my abuser for 7 ½ years, has been charged with murder.
For one-third of my life and one-half of my children’s lives, I allowed myself for far too long to be controlled and beat on. He treated me like I was sub-human, nothing, garbage. He threatened me on a daily basis. I was afraid to breathe around him for fear that I would breathe wrong. I was told I could not do anything properly-clean, cook, or even dress. Yet I stayed with him in an attempt to fix everything, to make my relationship and eventually my family work. I listened to promises that he would change, that the abuse would stop. That our relationship would get better if only I did things his way so he would not have to hit on me. If I would clean his way or wear this shirt and watch what he wanted me to watch and feed the kids when he was hungry and keep a 1 and 3 year old quiet while he slept at 10 a.m. Mostly, if I would not speak to my friends or family, everything would be fine. This mind control tends to still be with me the most. I can still hear him saying how ugly I am and how no one would want someone life me, how much of a disappointment I am to him and as he hits me over and over again and tells me that he loves me. I felt worthless and useless like I couldn’t do anything right. My self-esteem was gone. I went from an outgoing 16-year old to a very shy 24-year old before I left.
The abuse greatly affected my children also. If he raised his voice, they would cry, sometimes uncontrollably. Although he did not hit them, they suffered the mental anguish of watching daddy hit and scream at mommy. My turning point was when my ex-husband threw me down a flight of stairs with my 1 ½ year old in my arms. At that very moment, I knew he would eventually kill me.
In the end, it was my children who suffered the most. On September 9, 1999, I began to live every mother’s worst nightmare. My children were shot. My son, Richie, only two years old was dead and my daughter Destiny, only 3 years old was barely clinging to life. Destiny died the next day.
Many people ask me that if I knew Des and Richie would be killed, would I still have left. The answer is yes. I could not bring Destiny and Richie up in that house watching daddy beat on and scream at mommy. I wanted to save them. I left to give them a better life. Do I feel like I failed my children? In my case, the system failed my children, as did Richard, my ex-husband, I take Des and Richie with me everywhere I go. I hold them in my heart and soul. I would not change leaving my ex-husband. I did what was best for my children. Abusers say they will change, that they will love you and it will get better. It does not. Abuse is a pattern that does not change and it is easy for abusers to fall back into it. It is easy for as long as you are with the abuser to fall back into the same patterns. If you are in an abusive relationship, please get out. If not for yourself, then for your children. They need you and can’t live without you.
Sharon’s Story
When a relationship begins, so does a little giving and taking. Through the course of the relationship people grow and change. I never thought I would give so much and become someone I didn’t even recognize. Love did not make me blind, it made me numb. When I fell in love with someone I will call Siran, he told me to stop loving myself. But I did love him. At first everything was great. Then he began to slowly control my social activities. In addition he would make me feel bad for a past I had already forgiven myself for. When I would stand up for my individuality, things would turn ugly, with me on the ground and him choking me.
You are wondering why I stayed, but I mentioned earlier that I loved Siran more than I loved myself. Anyways, he was really sorry. I bent every single rule I had ever set for myself to love this person. I learned to lie in order to cover the marks both inside and out. I even learned to lie to myself. The few friends I had left constantly reminded me of the changes they were seeing. It kept my situation real.
I however, being more in love with him than I was with myself, tried to turn love around. But Siran would not release me. My inner voice was screaming to let go. I tried everything but things had gone way too far. He even controlled me intimately. By that time, my inner voice screamed it was over and when I listened, it was too late.
The last night I was with Siran he spent an hour trying to convince me to change my mind. He begged, cried, and threatened violence to himself and me. That night led to the real end. There was no going back. Siran kicked in the windshield of my car and did extensive damage to other parts of my car. Did I mention I was still in the car? As much as I minded picking glass out of my face and spitting glass out of my mouth for a day, I minded even more the assault charge I received a week later because I got a protective order against him and he got one against me. I mentioned this because abusers don’t stop abusing you because you are physically apart.
Now I want to tell my story. A story I kept silent for too long, a silence that almost cost me my life. I want to tell my story for anyone he may ever try to hurt or for anyone who has even been controlled or physically violated. Someone can only love us as much as we love ourselves. Did I mention the hardest love someone can give is the love they give themselves? That is the love I am learning.