This is a blog. For those who are unfamiliar with what a blog is, I'll explain it to you... it's an online diary or journal where people can share their thoughts, experiences, hobbies, or they can even use it to piss time away much like a status update on freakin' Facebook, only longer. Got it? This is MY blog and I have chosen to use it to journal MY life and MY experiences. If there is someone who is reading my blog and it offends them... there's a beautiful thing called personal choice. You may want to exercise that personal choice and choose to NOT read MY blog.
With that said, I feel the need to apologize to my mother who felt victimized by a past entry, that out of respect, I have deleted. I didn't mean to cause any pain, but this is how I deal with feelings. At times, I have felt very overwhelmed with what has happened in my life over the past 3 years and this has been the best way for me to "talk" about it. I haven't been able to open up to people since I had to move away from my counselor and my support group. When I could talk to her about it or to other women that have gone through the exact same thing, every week, I left feeling much stronger. I lost that when I moved here. I'm sorry. I realize that everyone has their own problems and everyone deals with them in their own ways... this is how I deal with them, though I haven't really dealt with mine, I've only let them take over my life which has caused much misery to myself and my family. Hence the previous blog where I talked of dealing with things, getting back into counseling, and making a better life for my kids and myself. I've been emotionally unstable, and I'm choosing to take the steps in getting better, so that I can focus on getting a job, being a better mother, and moving on in life.
I was told tonight to "just let it go". Excellent advice. I'll be sure to get right on that. Hell, I don't know why I didn't just think of that! I'll just let it go and POOF it's gone! Ready, set, GO... nope, didn't work. There must be something really wrong with me. Excuse my sarcasm, but if it were that easy, I'd be a hell of a lot further than I am at this point. It seems as though my intelligence has been confused with stupidity.
I knew on November 4th, that my life was going to get REALLY hard. I had been living with and dealing with Brian and his crap for years, I was used to it. It may sound pathetic that a person can actually get used to that kind of life, but it became routine. It wasn't always bad, in fact a lot of the time it was okay. Abuse goes in cycles and it can vary between being happy for a week to a year and then BAM, shit hits the fan and you're back in hell. Our "happy time" was usually for a couple months and then it would go bad for a short time, then back to good. Abuse, for a lack of better term, is a mind fuck. That's how they control you. There is ALWAYS a honeymoon phase. During that time, I was made to believe that he was sorry, that it was ptsd or stress, or even that I caused him to react that way, to which I would take the blame and work extra hard to make him happy. I was always promised that he would get help and that it would never happen again. I was treated lovingly, respectfully, and showered with gifts and affection. Sometimes, he wouldn't slip back into the "normal" for several weeks. Even the normal was tolerable, and that could last for months until the dark clouds started to hover and the tension became thick... which was always followed by a massive eruption. It's a vicious cycle, and I, like most women, got caught up in the thinking that since it got better last time, it'll get better again.
Brian used the children, mostly Jack, to keep me around. He rationalized that if we could be a family and that if he continued to get help (which he was getting at the veteran's hospital when he strangled me for the last time), that we would get custody of Jack back. I AM an intelligent woman, but common sense has never been one of my strong points and I was desperate to get my son back.
We moved to IN because Jack was living with Brian's dad and step-mom, and the deal was that once they got custody, we would all go to court and they would sign custody back over to us. It was a deal that was well known to all parties in Jack's case and there was no objection. I was actually told by my lawyer that this was the way to go. Brian had shown huge signs of improvement and even became strongly faithful to God (or so I thought) and we were baptized in our church together. I had no reason to think that things would fall apart again.
Jack began living with us full time again, and Brian had stable employment and was in treatment. I was going to school part-time and working part-time as well at my school, though my job was only temporary and I was to be "laid off" in November until business picked back up in January when the winter semester began. Life was good. He was making great money between his job at the hospital and his VA benefits. Jack and I depended on him financially. We jointly leased a beautiful house, my car was in his name, he had the bank account (which I wasn't on) so he was in control of everything. When that tension period began in late September, it was then that I was thinking that I needed to get out, but as things started becoming miserable, I was reminded that I had nothing on my own, and I couldn't make it without him... not to mention, Jack's fate as far as custody, was ultimately in his hands since the baby was with Brian's family. I had no control over the situation and I felt that there was no way out and I had to sit back and watch everything unravel... and unravel, it did. Quickly.
The reason for that long, drawn out explanation, is that there is a reason why women stay. For me, I had vowed long ago that my previous marriage had failed because of me, and I wasn't going to let my relationship with Brian end in failure. I fell in love with a very different and charming man. Had I known that he was such a monster, of course I would have never gotten into even a friendship with him. He was very charming, very sincere (I thought), and seemed almost too good to be true. In my support group, I quickly learned that these other women felt the same way about their abusers. Once you fall in love with someone, it's not easy to walk away, especially if that person has been completely "mind fucking" you since day one. I began to feel like the problem was me, not him. It seemed as though I could never do anything right and I was constantly working to make him happy. Looking back, I realize that I became a completely different person between the beginning of the relationship, to the end. I can tell you that who I was then, was a much happier person that who I am now. I will get that woman back... it will take time, but she's still there. I just wanted him to love us... the kids and I. I wish I could some how make people understand what I'm saying. They're just words that you read on a computer screen, it's black and white here... but there is so much more to it. It's one of those things that I believe you have to live in order to understand. If that's the case, I'd rather none of you understand because I wouldn't want any of my family or friends to live it.
I don't write this for people to feel sorry for me. In fact, if that's how you feel about me, than I'd rather you stop reading now, and never look at this again. My ultimate goal, as far as what I want to do with my life, is to be able to educate and counsel women, young and old, about the signs of abuse and how to get out, stay out, and never end up in that kind of relationship again. I write because in the time that it takes for me to get this out, I end up feeling a little stronger when I'm done. The more that I can feel that strength, the more it will cultivate a more powerful woman. That power, will get me out of this rut, will make me emotionally stable, eventually leading to financial stability. As I become to realize that his words were bullshit, that I'm NOT worthless, that I CAN do it on my own... I've won. I've won my life back and it WILL be a million times better than I've ever known it to be.
I use the term "victim" because that is what I'm classified as when it comes to getting the support I need to overcome this shit. Just because I admit to being a "victim" doesn't mean that that is my forever title. When it came to my OB care during pregnancy, I had to make it known that I was a "victim" of domestic abuse. There is a reason for making doctors and hospital staff aware of that. Did I want to talk about it with the giggidy-billion different people I had to come in contact with through different doctor's offices and hospitals between here and Indiana? No, I would have rather explained it once, had it documented from the get go. I was content to share it with my counselor and those women in my group, but that was it. There was concern for Jude, there was concern for my security, and because for a while I didn't see just one doctor... you get the idea. I'm not a fan of most doctors so I they didn't exactly make me feel comfortable. It's far easier for me to talk here where I don't feel eyes on me like I'm being judged. Go figure.
Being a victim, doesn't mean that I feel sorry for myself (though I've had my moments, but the word isn't being used with negative connotation) or that I don't accept my role in losing my children. I didn't leave because I felt that I couldn't. I felt a responsibility to hold a family together, when really all that I did was allow it to fall apart. I see things clearly now because I'm out of that relationship. It's like I'm looking at everything through a glass window and I can see it all so clearly now. I couldn't see it like this from the inside. I can't explain it any better than that. It happened, but I'm not milking this for sympathy. I'm using this as a tool to regain who I was. I'm thankful that I live in a country where I can do this, I can write and I can choose to go back and look at these entries as time goes on and see improvement. I can already see that strength in me, and realize that all hope is not lost.
So this is why I blog... it's not to hurt anyone. I'm thankful for the good days with my family. If I can't make my mother realize why I'm doing this, how I've felt, and how I want my life to be, then there's nothing I can do about that. I'm sorry that we butt heads (heh, I said butt head), but we BOTH have to give a little to get a little. I am thankful for all they have done for my children, and for me. I haven't made her life easy by any means, and I've put my parents through more hell than I care to admit, but I'm trying to get better. I have to heal, and that's not something that can happen overnight. It took me a long time to get away from him, it's going to take some time to become who I was again. I went through 3 years of hell... and it's only been 7 months since it ended. I'm past the grieving stage as far as Brian is concerned. I feel nothing for him (nothing good anyway). I no longer miss him, or hope that someday he will try to come back just so I can tell him off and make him realize what he's done to my children and to me... I don't ever want to see his face or hear his voice for the rest of my life. That alone, is a HUGE step, but sadly it's not considered that at home. I understand where she's coming from, I just wish that she could understand where I'm coming from. I'm physically free now, but emotionally and mentally, it takes time. I'm extremely lucky that Travis understands and is so patient with me because God knows, I don't always make it easy on him. With that said, it's time for me to get to bed because my appointment is early tomorrow.
I'm thankful for:
1. My children
2. My parents and their generosity
3. Travis and his understanding
4. Those that have been through this and understand every word
5. Forgiveness
"I have learned that you cannot make someone love you. All you can do
is be someone that can be loved. The rest is up to them."
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