Take your permission back

I remember the moment I gave my ex “permission” to abuse me.  I did not do this by outright telling him he could hit me or hurt me some other way.  I told him by protecting him.  It was back in 1998-99.  We were dating and living in our first home together.  It was a Saturday morning and he was making us omelet’s for breakfast.  He asked me if I wanted onions in mine.  I was confused by this question because he knew I did not like onions, but I still answered him and said, “No thanks.”  Suddenly he started yelling at me and threw the frying pan in my direction.  I was beyond shocked, what had just happened? He then stormed through the dining room into the living room.  I followed him asking him what was wrong, what had I done?  He turned around and told me to “Shut up or I will slap your mouth shut for you!!” I was speechless.  He had never threatened me like this.  What was wrong??  He started to walk away into the spare room, I followed wanting to calm him down.  As he entered the bedroom he slammed the door in my face, but I put my right hand up at the last second to stop the door.  As a result it got caught in the door jam.  He was pushing on the door so I started to scream, “My hand, my hand is in the door!” and then I felt him push even harder on the door.  I screamed some more and suddenly he released the pressure on the door and stormed past me.  I looked down at my hand and my middle finger was split open down to the bone.  I started to cry and I grabbed some Kleenex, trying to stop the blood flow.

My head was spinning.  I could not comprehend what had just happened.  How could he hurt me like this? Why didn’t he care? Where was he? It was then that I realized he had left the house. I looked at my finger and I knew I needed stitches, but what would I tell the doctor? I couldn’t tell him or her what had really happened? They would arrest him and I loved him. I couldn’t let that happen.  So I wrapped up my finger as best I could.

Later he came home.  Not a word was said between us.  I did not question his actions and he did not explain himself.  We acted like it had not happened.

The next day, and for the next few days, I stayed home from work.  I worked in the Corporate World and typed all day long.  I was so ashamed of what had happened.  How could I explain this to my co workers? What would I say had happened? I could not tell them the truth.  So, instead, I said I was sick and stayed home.  Later that day my exes mom came over for a visit.  She was shocked to see the swelling on my right had and the bruising that had developed. “What happened?” she gasped.  I opened my mouth, not knowing what I should say.  Could I tell her the truth?  It was then that I saw my ex appear behind her, staring at me with a cold dead look.  A shiver went down my spine.  I knew then that I had to lie.  What would he do if I told the truth? So I looked at his mom and just said, “Oh I caught it in the door”, nothing more was said.  I saw my ex relax and turn away.

In that moment I gave him permission.  I told him  that I would lie for him, I would cover up his abuse.  I told him that I would let him abuse me and from that day on he did, over and over again.  I also enabled him by not making him take responsibility. Like so many other victims I wondered what I had done wrong.  Not for a moment did I think that he was responsible for his reactions to me saying no to the onions.  It did not enter my head that it was HIS choice to throw the frying pan.  It was HIS choice to threaten me and it was HIS choice to keep pushing on that bedroom door.  I did not make him do those things nor did I provoke him.  I just said no to wanting onions in my omelet.  That is how, as victims, we keep ourselves down.  We take responsibility for their abuse.  We look at ourselves and think that we must be a horrible person to make the one we love act this way.  In doing that we abuse ourselves and our abuser is happy to let us do that.  It makes his or her job easier to break us down.

I encourage you to stop enabling your abuser.  They are responsible for any abuse they do to you.  Also please know you are not horrible or whatever he or she tells you.  You are beautiful.  You Deserve a life free of abuse!  When it is safe to do so hold your abuser accountable and take your permission back!

 

Peace,

Janet

If you are thinking of leaving your abusive relationship I encourage you to create a Safety Plan.  Like a how a fire drill helps you safely escape a fire, a Safety Plan helps you safely leave an abusive relationship.  Please check out this link;  http://verbalabusejournals.com/how-stop-abuse/safety-planning/  Scroll down the page it opens to download it for free.

I love writing for free, but with three kids it can get tight.  So if you like what I write feel free to make a donation towards my work.  Please click on this Paypal link; PayPal.Me/JanetBrownlee to make your donation. Thanks!

Find Freedom and let go of the guilt

I was walking home from feeding my horse today and a thought entered my mind,  as an abuse Survivor I have been asked to carry a lot of unnecessary guilt.  Perhaps you are familiar with that.  Perhaps your abuser blames you for their latest outburst or perhaps their family says, “well if you just did this……he wouldn’t explode.” Let me tell you right now that this is not your guilt to carry. None of it.

It is extremely rare for an abuser to ever take responsibility for their actions.  That is simply why they never change.  They may say they are sorry, but it is not just their words that need to change, their actions must change as well.  The majority of the time an abuser will apologize because they are afraid of losing their control over you so they apologize and perhaps say they accept some blame simply to win you back.  This is called the Honeymoon stage in the abuse cycle.  That part of the cycle may last for a month, or a week or maybe even just a day but without professional help an abuser will abuse again.  So please do not look at these apologies as the abuser taking responsibility.  These apologies are a part of them continuing to manipulate you so that they can continue controlling and abusing you. abusewheel

Instead of taking responsibility an abuser will put the blame on you for what has happened.  Sometimes they verbalize it by saying, “If you had just left me alone……or “If you had just kept the kids quiet I wouldn’t have….”or some other statement like that.  Please do not think for a moment that any of this is your fault.  The abuser is completely responsible for their own actions. They are adults and are able to know the difference between right and wrong.  Please do not take on the responsibility that their abusive actions are your fault.  Yes they want you to believe they are your fault so that your self esteem is crushed and they do not have to be held responsible for what they have done.  All of this wears you down, keeps you weak and makes you easier to control.  Instead of being their victim, be a Survivor and say, “No, it was your choice to yell or hit and throw” (or whatever it is that they did).  They made the choice to hurt you and yes they knew exactly what they did.  Let me also tell you that you could be completely perfect by keeping the kids quiet or making sure the house was clean and they will still abuse you.  Blaming you for your actions is just their way of justifying their abuse to themselves and often to others. Unfortunately there are others who will agree with them, but please know that without a doubt NONE of this abuse is your fault.  It is all theirs. So let go of that responsibility and that guilt! Hold your head high and know that you deserve more than this abuse.  Be free!

Peace,

Janet

 

If you are thinking of leaving your abusive relationship I encourage you to create a Safety Plan.  Like a how a fire drill helps you safely escape a fire, a Safety Plan helps you safely leave an abusive relationship.  Please check out this link;  http://verbalabusejournals.com/how-stop-abuse/safety-planning/  Scroll down the page it opens to download it for free.

I love writing for free, but with three kids it can get tight.  So if you like what I write feel free to make a donation towards my work.  Please click on this Paypal link; PayPal.Me/JanetBrownlee to make your donation. Thanks!

Trolls and other such things

So a “troll” or perhaps she is someone connected to my ex, commented on my facebook page today.  It was in regards to my last post regarding the  child support, or lack thereof, that I received from my ex.  In it she educated me on how Maintenance Enforcement works in Canada, all things I already knew, and proceed to tell me how negative I am on my page, my blog and to the people in my life.  She was banned from the page.  I don’t like trolls.  I don’t think anyone does.
 
I reflected on her comments for a bit.  Criticism is always a good time to reflect and see if  there is room for personal growth. I asked myself if I am negative, is the page or my blog negative and the answer that kept coming back to me was, no.
 
I share my journey, hence the name of my page and my blog, both good and bad. There are definitely things WITHIN my journey that are negative because I and my children were abused by my ex and their father, but I nor my page or my blog is negative.  It is the abuse that is negative. 
 
Now it is very possible that this person is somehow connected to my ex.  Obviously she would only hear one side of the story, his. Being he is an abuser, and abusers will lie, not take responsibility for their actions and will smear their victims name it would be no surprise that she would see me as negative.  I get that. Unfortunately for Survivors of abuse,  her opinions are so common when abuse is exposed. There will be people who will want to keep the Survivor quiet and believe the lies that the abuser tells them.  This could be because they have only ever seen the “Mr. Nice Guy” that is in all abusers.  The one who plays the doting father and husband (or wife or mother) in public, but they do not see who that person is behind closed doors.  They do not see the real person that they are.  In small ways I cannot blame the family or friends in an abusers life for not believing the Survivor.  They will have been snow balled just like the Survivor was in the beginning of their relationship. At one time the Survivor believed this person was caring and loving.  It wasn’t until the Mr. Nice Guy mask started to slip that they started to see who this person really was.  Even then most Survivors live in denial for a long time, not wanting to believe that the person they love is cruel and means to do the mean things they do.  It can take years for a Survivor to finally acknowledge what is happening to them and to finally break free.  I know for me it took 15 years to finally be able to walk away. 
 
My other thought is that this woman is abused herself and often what we do not want to see in our own life will be seen as negative when it is brought to light in someone else’s.  If that is the case I hope that one day she will find a life free of abuse. 
 
Lastly, I know my ex the best.  I have seen every single side of him.  I know exactly what he is capable of so not a troll or a supporter of his will make me back down in exposing what he did behind closed doors to myself and our children.  I share my journey to let other Survivors know that they are not alone.  I also share  how I handle it to help empower other Survivors currently in or recovering from an abusive relationship.  
 
If you have found yourself in similar shoes with a supporter I empathize with you.  I know it can be a tough road when others are trying to silence you and do not want to hear the truth about someone’s abuse of you.  I encourage you to keep speaking your truth.  You know what happened and so does your abuser, hence why they are trying to silence you.  Abusers hate exposure.  You are strong.  You can withstand what others say.  I believe in you!
 
Peace,
 
Janet

I want more!!!

The past 22 years have been one heck of a journey.  In that time I met my ex, got married, had babies, was abused,  broke free, only to be followed by years in recovery.  

The beginning of my recovery was full of numbness. All I wanted to do was sleep. Everything in me was shot; my nervous system, my focus, my emotions, my whole being just fell apart. I lay in bed for hours. Sometimes sleeping and sometimes just staring at the wall in silence.  I was in shock for two years. 

 Thankfully I had loved ones who cared for my children and I. My now fiance picked me up more than once and my sister listened to me tell story after story of my exes abuse. They were and are my rocks. 

Slowly I started to live again. I started to get out of bed and interact with my family. I started to be an active mom again! I felt the sunshine on my face, the air in my lungs and that “zombie” feeling,I felt for so many years, started to slip away.  I was finding me again. 

Recently I bought a horse. She has given me so much in the last six months. A positive focus, a friendship and a desire to be more. Yes more. I want more than just being in recovery! 

Many move through trauma recovery wanting who they were before their trauma back. I admit at one time I did too,  but not anymore.  If I went back to her I wouldn’t have the life lessons my exes abuse taught me or have found the amazing  strength within me to survive it or the skills to help my children heal and grow. I wouldn’t be me and I like the me I am post trauma. 

  Recently I registered to go back to school and I am excited! I am excited about what the future will bring. I will admit that  a part of me is nervous. Nervous that I will relapse in my recovery by adding school to my schedule, but I am doing my best  to quiet that voice. I am trusting the survivor in me and continuing to move forward. All we can do is keep putting one foot in front of the other and make positive life choices. That is how we survive the uglies that life throws at us and learn to live again. 

Peace, 

Janet 

They may not tell you, but I will 

They never tell you how hard it will be once you leave your abusive relationship.

They never tell you how many years you won’t be able to sleep or the bags you’ll get under your eyes. Or how some days all you will want to do is sleep. 

They never tell you the pain you will  feel years after you have left.

They never tell you that you’ll see counsellor after counsellor, Psychiatrist’s too just trying to get your head right.

They never tell you how you will struggle to get out of bed. Not for a day or a week, but for two years. Two years of detoxing from trauma.

They never tell you that you might not be able to work, that you’ll lose your home and most of your possessions.

They never tell you how much your kids will hurt. How shattered they will grow up even though you try to do everything right.

They never tell you.

You can’t imagine how many tears you will cry and think that you can’t possibly take one more step.

They just never tell you.

They tell you to leave, go somewhere safe, but after that…..well they don’t tell you what happens after that.

They also don’t tell you how you will find strength deep down inside of you that you never knew existed.

They don’t tell you how you will find a way to fight every battle with your head held high.

They don’t tell you that you will survive, but I will tell you.

I will tell you that it will be hard, that your heart will hurt and your knees will shake, but you will soldier on. That you are so much stronger than you think and that someday you will look back with a smile and say, “Hey, I did do all of that!”

I left.

I got help.

I found a new home.

I helped my kids.

I healed. We healed.

Or perhaps I should say we are healing.

Every step forward we are healing.

They may never tell you all of that, but believe me when I say, you will survive. I promise you that.

Peace, 

Janet 

It’s been two years….

It’s been two years.  It’s been two years since I faced all of my fears and faced my ex in Criminal Court. He had been charged with continual sexual assault against me  in the last nine months of our marriage. I am going to admit to you that this is hard to write about and so very hard to think about, but I will do my best to share my thoughts.

It’s been two years.  It’s been two years since I faced all of my fears and faced my ex in Criminal Court. He had been charged with continual sexual assault against me  in the last nine months of our marriage. I am going to admit to you that this is hard to write about and so very hard to think about, but I will do my best to share my thoughts.

In Canada only 6 out of every 100 sexual assault is reported to Police.  Many victims either don’t want Police involvement, have dealt with the assault in another way or feel it is a private matter and they do not want it in the Courts.  For myself it was two years after the assaults when I went to the RCMP.  Why did I wait two years? Well the Defence in my trial wanted the Jury to believe that the rapes never happened and that I only came forward two years later with a fabricated story and that I was seeking revenge. This of course was not the case.  The report was filed when it was because that was the  point where I was ready.  I was ready to talk about the worst nine months of my marriage. Sexual Assaults are extremely personal, hugely traumatic and full of shame.  After my ex assaulted me he would call me horrible names; whore, bitch, idiot, slut and so on. He would sit at the end of our marriage bed spewing this horribleness at me while I could hear our toddler son in the next room. I started to think that perhaps I was those things. Was I asking for this? Was I doing something during the day that let him think I did want these rapes to happen? No. No I was telling him not to touch me, not to sleep in our bed and to leave me alone, I knew that.  I was not asking for this yet he still somehow made it my fault, and so did the Defence.

I have never been involved in any other Criminal Court Cases, but I do know that the most used tactic, by Defence Lawyers, in Sexual Assault Trials is to put the victim on trial.  Every move you have made before and after the assault is scrutinized. You are blamed for not fighting hard enough, for not locking that bedroom door, for not doing enough to stop the assaults.  Victim blaming at it’s best and wow can that ever play with your head.  Defense Lawyers are just like abusers.  They implant ideas and motives as to why you did not fight the way they thought you should and make it all your fault.  You can  easily end up doubting yourself. Could I have done more? Was I wrong when I did this or that? and so on. It is abusive and it is horrible that the Judges let it happen.  It was explained to me post trial that the Crown is held to a level of decorum because, well it is representing the Crown, but Defence Lawyers are not held to this standard.  They can make cheap shots, they can laugh behind the Crowns back (yes that happened), they can throw temper tantrums (yes that happened too) and they can yell at victims (yup, it happened) and the Judge will not bat an eye.  It is sickly accepted and guess what? The Crown is not allowed to warn you ahead of time of this behaviour, so please let my testimony be enough to tell you that games are definitely played in Sexual Assault Trials.

The Defence  banks on an old text book idea of how a sexual assault victim will behave.  They will outline to the Jury that a female victim should be able to physically stop a sexual assault (lets just say that is nearly impossible, most males are physically bigger and stronger than their victim) and that when it is all over she should be in the mind frame to get herself to a hospital, be checked by a doctor and file a Police report right away.  After the assault they should behave in a certain way, not have future relationships, would never have contact with their rapist again and should not act out of character. The thing is, that’s not how trauma works. Majority of reported sexual assaults are committed by someone the victim knows and in most cases it is someone in their home.  So lets play this out.  Someone you love assaults you and probably threatens you to keep quiet.  They may threaten to hurt your children or take them away from you.  They may threaten to hurt  or kill you or a family pet. They will say whatever horrible thing it is that they have to say to keep quiet because they do not want to be exposed. That is traumatizing and most victims will believe what their rapist says will happen if they speak up. This person has just used great physical force and hurt them in unbelievable ways so what proof is there that they will not follow through with the other threats they make? There is none.  So most victims will stay quiet.  Many may talk about it later. It could be years later when they are strong enough or something else in their life triggers them and pushes them to talk about it. Hence why we have no statute of limitations on Sexual Assaults in Canada.  In fact the majority of reported Sexual Assaults are reported long after the fact.  So the fact that the Defence still leads the jury to believe the “text book” way a victim should react is completely false. It is also important to know that the victim will probably feel tons of shame around the assault.  They will worry that others will see them as tarnished, dirty or broken and they don’t want to be seen that way so they keep quiet.  There are also many who black out or are not completely present during the assault so details are fuzzy.  I know that as the assaults in my marriage continued the details became fuzzy.  In order to cope with the ongoing assaults I often separated myself from them and was not present.  It is an extremely common survival instinct in Survivors of sexual assault.  Our brain is amazing and it will do whatever it has to, to help you survive.

The Majority of Sexual Assaults do not result in a conviction.  That was the situation in my case.  Most sexual assaults happen in private and become a “He said, She said” case. Even though my ex verbally admitted to me that he knew what he was doing to me I did not have any physical proof of that.  Just my account of the incident. I had told his cousin about it shortly after the confession, but when questioned by the RCMP she lied and said she had no memory of me telling her that or about any of the many assaults. Without physical proof it is so hard to prove a sexual assault. As a result so many rapists, like my ex, get to walk away and probably hurt someone else in the future.

I have often asked myself if I regret coming forward. Despite the trauma from the trial I am still glad I came forward.  Irregardless of the outcome I did hold my ex accountable for the horrible things he did.  I shined a light on the darkness and exposed him for who he is.  Something he used to scream at me to never do because we were married.  I spoke up for simply that reason, because he told me to keep quiet and I refuse to do that.  I refuse to enable his abusive behaviours. Should you come forward if you are assaulted? I cannot answer that.  I know society tells us to speak up when we are sexually assaulted so that the rapist can be punished. I agree with that.  We should not protect abusers. In saying that though our Legal System needs to change.  It needs to stop putting victims on trial.  It needs to start putting the perpetrator on trial.  Examine their actions before and after the incident.  Examine what they do and say. Put them under the micro scope.  Maybe then we would get somewhere with this unspeakable crime. If you have suffered this unspeakable crime my heart cries out to you.  My word of advice is to do what you feel is right.  Do what you need to do to  heal in a healthy way.    It is not an easy road, I know that, but I do believe you can get through this.  Reach out for support. Go to a Sexual Assault Centre or call a Hotline, tell a friend. You did nothing wrong and you most certainly did not deserve this.  You are loved and you are beautiful, please remember that.

 

Peace,

Janet

– On a side note I am proud to say that my blog has been featured in the Top 30 Domestic Violence Blogs on Feedspot! Please go to http://blog.feedspot.com/domestic_violence_blogs/ to check it out! My blog was also featured on Open Forest as one of five must read blogs about Domestic Abuse.  Check it out at https://openforest.net/domestic-abuse-5-must-read-blogs/

 

How do you trust after abuse? 

Trust. Trust is something most of us have when we are in a relationship with someone. Whether it’s family, friendship or a romantic relationship there is an understanding that you trust the other person. It’s almost a given. What happens though if you have been abused? How do you trust after someone you trusted and possibly loved hurt you in undescribable ways? Let me tell you, it’s not easy. 

Trust. Trust is something most of us have when we are in a relationship with someone. Whether it’s family, friendship or a romantic relationship there is an understanding that you trust the other person. It’s almost a given. Trust starts when we are a helpless newborn. We trust that our parents will care for us. That they will feed us and keep us warm. What happens though if you have been abused? How do you trust after someone you trusted and possibly loved hurt you in undescribable ways? Let me tell you, it’s not easy. 

  Twenty two years ago I met a man whom I fell in love with. We eventually married and had a family. Under the grace of God I should have been able to trust him. I should have been able to trust him with our children’s lives and my own. We were married,  we were one flesh under the eyes of God, so of all the people out there I should have been able to trust him with my life. I did give him that trust, I handed my life and my care over to him, but what did he do? 

He abused me and our children. 

He threatened my life. 

To top it all off, he enjoyed hurting me! (which was apparent when he smirked when I cried). 

It was a sick marriage and one that I left just over six years ago. 

How do I trust after that? How does any Survivor of abuse trust again? It’s a pretty tall order, but believe it or not it can be done. What do you have to do? 

Baby steps. 

When I first ended my marriage my world closed in around me. I struggled to focus, to get out of bed and I was scared of everything. I “hid” from the world in my bed. After suffering this way for a year, I was diagnosed with PTSD and Deep Depressive Disorder.  Medication helped my moods, but they didn’t build my trust in others. In my head, my husband had hurt me in unbelievable ways, what was stopping some stranger from hurting me too? I barely trusted anyone. 

During this time I started a new relationship.  It was a new relationship with someone from my past, my Highschool sweetheart. We had  a history that had been built on trust. I knew that in many ways I could still trust him, but there were also parts of me that made him earn my trust. It took time for me to learn that if we had an argument it didn’t mean he would beat me. It took time for me to know that if he carried my son to his room it didn’t mean he was going to hurt him, it just meant that my young son was being put on a time out. With each incident that happened that was free of abuse I relearned that I could trust him. In time I realized he was there to protect me and care for me and the same for my children. He gave me what I never had before; safety. 

Once I trusted my new/old Beau he became the person I felt most safe with in my day to day life. If I went out I was calm if he was there. If he wasn’t there I was soon feeling panicky and running home to hide. It took another two years for me to be comfortable on my own outside of our home. At one point we moved to a new town and home. Next door we had a lovely single, retired woman and soon she became a family friend. I was ok if I went over there with my boyfriend, but the thought of going without him brought sheer panic upon me. My heart pounded and my legs shook. I wanted to visit with her.  I wanted to be friends and logically I knew she wouldn’t hurt me, but I couldn’t seem to set my foot outside my front door to see her on my own. 

Trust. It was all about trust. The world had become a scary place, a place where I now expected to get hurt everyone. 

Then one day I did it. One day I gave myself  serious talking to and asked myself if my neighbour had ever shown that she would purposely hurt me or had she been kind and caring at every visit? I realized it had always been the later. I also realized that my life was going to be pretty lonely if I didn’t at least try to put my foot out that front door on my own. 

So I did it! I went to my neighbours on my own and we have developed a lovely friendship. With that friendship and others I have made I have become stronger and now I can go to the grocery store on my own without having a panic attack. I can visit with others and make friends. Looking back over these last two years I see how I have started to trust the world around me a little bit more. Yes I still get overwhelmed at times. Yes I still have times I want to hide and yes there are times when I still do, but I am here to tell you that there can be trust after abuse.  Just take it one baby step at a time. Watch peoples actions over their words and most importantly listen to your gut. Your gut will tell you the truth about a person. 

Peace, 

Janet 

– On a side note I am proud to say that my blog has been featured in the Top 30 Domestic Violence Blogs on Feedspot! Please go to http://blog.feedspot.com/domestic_violence_blogs/ to check it out! 

I remember the first time

***Trigger Warning-Explicit***

I remember the first time. My world stopped when it happened and when it started to turn again  I wasn’t the same person.  My skin felt different, my hair didn’t feel like it was my own. My insides were on fire. My finger nails felt detached.  Nothing was my own anymore. All of it was his.  He owned me and I was screaming inside. I remember the first time he raped me.

Life had been so crazy leading up to it. At first he had been arrested.   I could no longer take the abuse.  I was so tired of crying day after day, year after year. I was so tired of begging him to stop and he never did.  I was so tired of my children being afraid. I just….I just wanted him to be nice. I wanted it all to stop. So I told the RCMP. I thought then maybe he would see. Maybe then he would stop hurting us.  I thought then maybe then I would be safe.

I just wanted to be free.

He left for a while. The RCMP removed him from our home and for a moment I was free.  I could breath again.  The knots in my stomach went away and I felt peace. Soon the phone calls started.  He wasn’t supposed to call me.  We weren’t supposed to talk,  but he called and I answered.  I thought it was his mom calling, but instead I heard his deep voice. He talked and I talked. He needed a Lawyer and I was supposed to find him one.

‘But you hurt me! Why am I supposed to find you a Lawyer?’, were my thoughts. I just want to be free!

I felt caught.

Ok. I will find you money for a Lawyer, but no one can know.

‘I want to be free. I want to be free.’ 

That’s all I heard in my head.  Somehow though I was finding him money for a Lawyer. It was crazy.

Then before I realized it he was back in my home.  I wanted to be free, but he was back.  The father of my children, the man I married, he was there even though the Courts said no.  So I carried on like nothing had happened.  I wanted to scream “He is back in my home! Take him AWAY!”, but I couldn’t open my mouth.  So I played along.  I let him back into my bed.  I pretended he had never hurt me.  I pretended we were a happy family.  I pretended I wasn’t dying inside.

My hair started to fall out.

Suddenly he WAS nice. He was what I always wanted him to be.  Maybe it would be ok? Maybe he did learn? Maybe just maybe we will make it?  Maybe. Maybe I won’t cry. So we carried on.  He went to Court appearances and I went to work. Kids went to school and daycare.  They will be ok, I thought, they have to be.  We just have to keep on carrying on.

So we carried on and soon the Court orders were lifted. We were allowed to be together.  No more hiding. No more lying to the outside world that he wasn’t at home.  We could be a real family again.  We were going to be ok.  There had been no hitting and no yelling.  He had been carrying and loving.  It was all going to be ok now.  I could breathe.

Breathe.

WHAM!!!

“YOU WILL PUT ON YOUR MITS!! YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT YOU WILL PUT ON YOUR MITS!!!”

Why is he screaming? Why is he holding my little boy up in the air? Why is this happening? Why isn’t he being nice? Make it STOP!!!

MAKE IT STOP!!

Hold onto your sons legs he can’t throw him that way.  Beg him to stop. Do it.  Take it for your son.  BEG HIM!! Ok he has stopped screaming, he tossed your son.  Your son is  in the closet now bawling.  It will all be ok now.  He has put him down.  Breath. Comfort your son.

“Shhhh baby. It’s ok,” you whisper.  You hold him and he cries.  Then you see your little girl.  She is in the corner crying and hiding her face.  How did this all start again? Why? What did we do? “Shhhh my boy, it’s ok.  Mommy is here.” Suddenly he grabs your daughter and tells you that he’s leaving and you are not coming.  You are shaking, trying so hard to hold it together, so you just nod your head ok.

They leave.

You breath and look at your little boy who is quietly sobbing now.  Then you hear his footsteps.  Dear God he is coming back! The door opens, he steps in and quietly crouches down next you and says steely, “Don’t even dream of going to the cops this time.  If you do you will never see me or anyone again!” “Ok”, I quietly answer,” I won’t say anything.”

Then he leaves.

You don’t really know what to do after that.  Your head is spinning and all you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears. You pick up your  son and you cry.  How could he do this again? He promised that he had changed!!! Why? How?

Suddenly there is a knock at the door and his mom, sister and brother-in-law are there, “Hi, how are you?”  You can’t tell them the truth. Swallow it.  They can’t know it happened again.  Smile.  Hug them and for bloody sake stop shaking!! So you smile, tell them you are fine and you stop shaking.  Soon he is home and he gives you  a kiss and hugs his sister.  Is everything ok now? Am I ok now? What just happened? My head is spinning.

No. NO! He lied.  He hasn’t changed.  He DID do it again.  I can’t do this.  I can’t breathe anymore.  Oh dear Lord please make this stop.

I just want to be free. I just want to be free.

“Yes, let’s go out for supper,” you hear. What, we are going out for supper? Ok,  pull it together, you’re all going out for supper.  So we go out and I pretend to be happy and we keep carrying on.

As the month passes we get closer and closer to Christmas.  Instead of calling our son his name he is calling him asshole.  I don’t want my husband near me. I feel disgusted when I looked at him. I  just wanted him to go away, but I can’t ask that now.  I can’t go to the RCMP again.  He warned me. He threatened me. I just need all of his family to go away.  I need the Holidays to be over.  I just need  it all to be over.

I just want to be free. I just want to be free.

“I can’t do this.”

“What?”, he asks.

I take a deep breath.  He is sitting on our bedroom floor, his back leaning up against the wall.  I feel the warmth of the blankets around me, but I am cold inside.  I can do this.  I can tell him.

“I can’t live with you anymore,” I say.

“What?” he asks again.

“I can’t live with you anymore,” I repeat. Don’t look at him. Just don’t look him in the eye.  You can do this.

“Why?” he asks.

“Why? You know why.  You PROMISED and you hurt us again!  ASSHOLE? Really? You are calling our toddler son asshole instead of his name!” I say strongly.

Just keep talking.  Don’t look at him.

Silence.

I shift my eyes and look at him.  His eyes are downcast and he looks so sad. Was I wrong?

“I know. Where am I supposed to go?” he asks quietly.

I look at him for a moment.  This is my husband, the father of my children, but he is hurting us and I need to protect us.

“To your moms,” I say.  “You stayed there last time.”

“No I can’t stay there.  She doesn’t want me there.  I guess….I guess I could live in the van…. but it’s winter”, he says softly and sadly looks down.

Don’t relent.  Don’t give in. The van? In the winter? Can I agree to that? He IS my kids father….

“Ok. You can stay BUT you are NOT allowed in our room.  This is MY room now.  I don’t want you touching me or kissing me.  You can move your things downstairs and sleep in the family room.”

He agrees.

Whew!!! I did it!!

So he moves his things downstairs and sets up the blow up bed.  Could it really be this easy?

I sit  in my room, in MY bed and for once in a long time I feel safe.

————-

“Ok girls, it’s time to get up.  I have to get to work soon!” I say as I make my way through the basement to the girls room. I open my younger daughters bedroom door and there he is, in her bed. “What are you doing here?” I ask.

“I just fell asleep here last night reading her a story,” he answers as he jumps up out of the bed.  He is only wearing his jockey underwear.

Hmmm ok, I think. Something inside of me says no this isn’t right, but I don’t have time to think about this right now.  I have to get ready for work. So I go to work and the kids go to daycare and school and we keep carrying on day in and day out.  He and I barely speak now, but he stays downstairs and I stay upstairs and we exist.  My oldest daughter starts to get upset at bedtime.  She starts to insist that she be allowed to sleep with her younger sister. “I have to keep her safe mum!” she tells me.  “What do you mean?” I ask.  She answers me with tears.  I tell her that enough is enough and to get to bed.  I tell her that her sister is fine.

She is, isn’t she? Yes. Yes she is, I tell myself.

I keep finding him there though. Morning after morning. He tells me now that he is there because his air mattress got a hole in it so we buy him a new one, but he is still in her bed and my oldest is still crying.

“This has to stop!” I insist one morning. “You can’t sleep in her bed anymore, it’s not right,” I tell him.

“WHAT?! NO!!,” he yells, “I NEED my children to be happy!!”

“You can still be with your kids, but you can no longer sleep in her bed!” I yell back, “This has to stop! No More!! It’s WRONG!!” and I turn and walk away. My heart is pounding.  My counsellor has been teaching me to trust my gut, to listen to my inner voice, to stand up. It is so scary to do, but I do it! I stood up!

I just want to be free. I just want to be free.

The next morning I woke early.  I hear him running up the stairs.  I think that he is going on a medical call with the Fire Department, but he comes into my room instead.

———————

I see him standing in my door way.  He is only wearing his underwear.  They are green, a semi light green.  He has had them forever. Why is he in my room? Why is he only wearing his underwear? What is going on? He  closes the door, locks it and walks over to my bed. What is going on? He says nothing. I don’t understand.  He is suddenly over me pulling back the blankets. I am in a t-shirt and panties. What is he doing? I told him not to touch me, why is he here? He reaches down and strokes my leg.  I freeze. He won’t look at me. He won’t talk to me. I try to speak, but nothing comes out.  I want him to go away!! He lies on top of me. NO!!!, my head screams.He is so heavy, I can’t move.  I try to pull free. I try to wriggle out from under him. He is like a dead weight.  He holds me down and pulls my panties down.  I feel him hard against my leg. NO!!! I scream inside my head. I try to roll away, I whisper no, he pulls me back, he is in me now and I am dying inside.  I don’t know where I went, but I wasn’t there.

I just want to be free. I just want to be free.

I hear him moan as he cums in me and rolls away. I lay there not moving, too terrified to speak. He pulls up his underwear and sits on the edge of the bed. I look at him in silence. Too scared to breathe.

What is that I hear?

My head is spinning, but I hear something. It’s my son, he is awake across the hall, I whisper my boy’s name. He looks at me then and tells me that I am a whore, a slut and a bitch. Then he stares straight ahead and walks out the door. I bite my lip.  I cannot cry. I will not cry.  The door is open. I could run. I could be free, but I can’t move.  I hear my boy coming into my room so I manage to pull up some blankets. He’s asking mommy to get up, he is hungry. Yes. Yes my boy I will get up. He hears daddy  in the kitchen and leaves my room. I pull up my panties and find some pants. I head out to make breakfast.

I remember. I remember the first time he raped me.

 

Epilogue

In the months following this assault my now ex raped me at least once a week.  I stopped eating, drastically lost weight, my hair fell out in clumps and I developed a rash all over my body.  I was so stressed. My right eye twitched constantly and I could not focus at work. My weight dropped to 108 lbs (I am 5’10”) and Icould no longer regulate my own body heat.  I was freezing in the middle of a hot summer.  I was slowly dying and he was the one slowly killing me.  One evening, as we were getting ready for his aunt and uncle to come over, I felt the strength to confront him.  I didn’t want to die, but if I was going to die I needed to understand why.  He was standing at our kitchen sink doing the dishes.  I walked up to him and asked him why was he forcing me to have sex? Part of me hoped that  he would tell me he had never raped me and that this had all been a terrible nightmare.  I looked at him and I waited. He stared straight ahead and looked out the kitchen window. He never said why he was raping me, but he did say, “I know. I know what I was doing. I know that I was hurting you.” He was so calm and detached. I stared at him and then something broke deep inside of me. I started to scream a blood curdeling scream, “It’s over!! It’s over!!” and I started walking around the house taking down all of our wedding photos, I was sobbing.  He was following me saying, “No!” as if he was shocked that I was ending it, but I just kept gathering everything up, saying that it was over.  Soon my arms were full of what I had thought were precious memories.  I took all those memories, all those pictures and I threw them into my bedroom closet. I was done. My heart was shattered. It was over.

Then. Then there was a knock at the door. It was his aunt and uncle and once again I had to push it all down, pretend it was all ok and I joined them to play cards.

The next day, while at work, I texted my husband.  I knew I was safe this way.  I told him that we were over.  I told him that I would stay out after work with the kids and that he had till 8:00pm to get his things out of the house and be gone.  I told him that if he wasn’t gone when I got home I WOULD call the RCMP.

He was gone when I went home.

I crashed after that.  My whole world fell apart. I was taken off of work and put on sick leave.  I could barely get out of bed. A friend had to come in to care for my kids.  I was really sick for two years and was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  It took medication and had tons of counselling to get me functioning again. In all of that, somewhere in me, I found the strength and clarity to come forward and report what he had done to the RCMP. He was arrested again and charged with Continual Sexual Assault. We were stuck in the Legal system for four years after that.  There was a Criminal Trial and a Divorce/Custody Trial. Both grueling in their own ways.  Things that I will write about at a separate time. They have their own trauma that I am not ready to share.

Finally, though, after all of that, I was free.

Peace,

Janet

 

 

 

 

 

 

Breaking the Abuse Cycle 

What is it like to realize you are married to an abuser? Life changing. Life shattering is a better description, but realizing and acknowledging that the person you love is an abuser is the first step to breaking free.

I remember when I lived in my abusive marriage. For many years I did not want to admit to myself that my husband was abusive. It was painfully impossible.   I hung on through the bad times and just prayed that in time things would get better.  I survived watching him throw chairs across the dining room in a rage or throwing our recliner across the living room because our girls were playing “too loud.” I survived the two year affair and the pushing down the flight of stairs when I was seven months pregnant.  I held on through all of it because…..well because I loved him and I was caught in the abuse cycle.

Part of seeing that the one you love is an abuser is learning the abuse cycle.  There are three parts to the cycle; the Tension Building Stage, The Incident and The Honeymoon Stage.

abusewheelThe Tension Building Stage is when you feel like you are walking on egg shells, waiting for the other shoe to drop so to speak.  You, as the victim, know the abuse is coming you just do not know when so you walk softly in your life hoping not to rock the boat.  For the abuser the tension is building in him/her.  They will actually create incidents in their mind to be angry about, incidents that are minor to anyone else but they will blow them up in their mind so that they have a reason to explode.  The abuser will set the victim up in a situation where they tell themselves they have a rite to explode and they will do just that; explode. The incident  in the Incident Stage is never the same thing twice.  This unpredictability keeps the victim on edge and gives the abuser control over them.  I will give you an example.  One night, in my abusive marriage,  I made Hamburger Helper for supper.  I cooked the ground beef and drained off the grease, like I had so many times before.  When my ex started eating he suddenly exploded, yelling at me that there was too much grease in the supper and he started throwing forks and knives at me.  He then got up and stormed off to the basement leaving myself and our children in a stunned silence, shaking in fear. In his head he needed to explode.  He needed to release the tension that had been building in him.  He created an incident in his head (too much grease in the meal) that justified exploding and he did just that.  A few weeks later I made the same dish again.  This time I was shaking as I made it, worried that he would explode again.  I was really thorough, almost too thorough when I drained the grease, I did not want their to be a spot of grease.  We sat down for the meal and I held my breath as he took the first bite.  This time….nothing.  No explosion, no angry words, no throwing of knives, nothing,  but the meal was exactly the same! Do you see what he did?  He created fear in me by getting angry about the grease, he then controlled my feelings and actions the next time I made the meal as I was extra careful in how I made it out of fear of him exploding again.  He had complete control over me.

Following the Incident Stage or Violence Stage is the Honeymoon Stage.  The abuser will often show remorse during this period.  Many apologize and make promises that they will change and it will never happen again.  There is a period of calmness as the victim enjoys the peace and the abuser is feeling calm because he has released all of that tension.  Sooner than later though that tension will build again and the cycle will start all over again.  As the abuser gains strength and feels more powerful each stage of the cycle will happen quicker and  quicker and in turn will become more dangerous.

Breaking the abuse cycle is not easy.  In fact, given the dangers around abuse, I believe it is the hardest cycle to break, but breaking it can happen. With proper support and understanding of the cycle you can break free.  If you find that you are stuck in this cycle I encourage you to study the dynamics in an abusive relationship. Read books, google it on the internet and seeking counselling or a support group can all be helpful things.  Empower yourself with knowledge.

In the end I did break free from the abuse cycle.  It took many attempts to finally be free, but I did it and I could not be more proud of myself.  Be proud of you.  Do it.  I BELIEVE in you.

Peace,

Janet

PS.  If you are planning to leave your abusive relationship I encourage you to create a Safety Plan so that you can leave safely.  Please follow this link to download a Safety Plan.  Scroll to the bottom of the page that initially opens to download it for free

 

I’ll just be over here laughing

As I head into the New Year I am realizing there is a shift in my healing from my abusive marriage.  What is the shift? I am laughing at my ex. Yes you read that correctly,  I am laughing at my ex.

I used to live in a world that was full of fear.  My ex enjoyed terrorizing me, raping me, physically abusing me and our son and abusing my daughters in ways that I cannot put into words.  I feared him. A lot.  He liked that I was afraid and that I was hurting.  Even my Lawyer, from talking to him, noted that my ex really enjoyed knowing I was in pain over what he had done.  As our family doctor put it in Court, my ex is mentally unwell and is an undiagnosed Sociopath.  So yes I have had every right to fear him.

So why am I laughing? Well I am laughing because my ex can no longer hurt me.  His only contact is his pathetic bashing of me online.  I will admit when I first found out he was attacking me on-line my PTSD kicked in and I was……well unsettled.  Knowing he reads my facebook page or this blog used to bug me.  I did not want him to be able to touch any part of my life.  Now though……well now I really do not care.  I see what he says online and I see it as pathetic and extremely predictable.  Abusers will do this when you leave.  They will trash your name (see my blog The Smear Campaign) to deflect from what they have done and they will watch you online because they still think of you as their property and something they own.  This is what they do. Now that you know that and I know that it almost makes what they are doing pathetic don’t you think? There is nothing special in their actions, they are simply like every other hum drum abuser (is that too crass??!!) It kind of takes away their power doesn’t it?  Well it certainly has for me.

So to my ex, and all of his minions who also follow me online, read away.  I hope you have fun going over what I write, how I share what he did and in turn empower other Survivors to break free.  Please enjoy my work.  I’ll just be over here in the corner laughing at your predictability.

Peace,

Janet