Yesterday I got a notification from tumblr to write something unfiltered, to be brave. Well Iāve had something on my mind alot lately, something Iād normally be afraid to share. Iāve been thinking about it because Iāve been having nightmares, about none other than Eric. Iāve had nightmares off and on, frequently not so much nightmares as just recalling things he did to me. When I told him I didnāt want him in my life anymore I was afraid, for many reasons. Besides the actual physical attacks I endured there were other strange things that had happened. I remember going to Vegas with Mark and he just stopped talking to me and of course I was hurt but I started to feel okay after awhile. Then I received a text and he said he had been in jail and he was embarrassed about it and asked to see me. I didnāt know if I wanted to see him, I tried to get out of it by being like well when I get out of work Iām going grocery shopping and Iām tired whatever. Normal people would say okay well it doesnāt have to be today but no he insisted, he said heād see me after, I really didnāt want to see him. I got home and took a shower first because I felt gross from work and by the time I got out of the shower he had texted me to ask if I was home yet. I got dressed and texted back that I had and he said he was near by then boom he was at my door. It was like an uncomfortably short amount of time. Like he had been outside when I got home or something. It made me really nervous. He made comments like if he wanted to know if something was going on he wouldnāt ask me heād find out other ways. He was telling me about a book Dave Chapelle discussed in his stand up about this pimp. He told me that this pimp made his girls loyal by beating them excessively with a coat hanger and then taking care of them all weekend so in the end they were grateful. He had this really uncomfortable look on his face, I remember feeling sick by that, because it was like he thought that was genuinely a great idea. Just some really inconsistent things. Between that and everything I experienced I was all too aware he might really be mentally ill and I might set him off by not wanting him in my life anymore. I also knew I had these really strong feelings about him that I didnāt always feel in control of so I posted on facebook that I changed my number because of him and that I hadnāt been completely honest about our relationship and that he had attacked me more than once, non consensually, unfairly, and I just wanted him out of my life. I guess I felt like that was the best way to, burn that bridge, I felt like if people in my life knew how unhealthy this was that I wouldnāt go back and people in my life would only reinforce this. I changed my locks, I put a few extra cameras up incase he showed up and attacked me again and I promised myself Iād press charges the next time. I smudged my room because I felt uncomfortable in my room, I got the new car and I had the windows tinted day one, and I parked my car in the garage so he wouldnāt know if I was coming or going incase he really did do something crazy. I joined this group on facebook with women who were abused because I didnāt understand ya know, how did I let this go on, how did I end up with this guy. Not that I necessarily think Iām better than others I think Iām better than this and how on earth did I end up here. So Iāve been having the nightmares again and Iām on this page and some girl posted that the women in this group should stop whining and theyāre to blame etc etc and it hit a nerve. My best friend said something like what were you thinking you know better than to let someone put their hands on you. I corrected her because the most terrifying points I fought I didnāt let this happen to me, maybe by allowing him in my life after and thinking it wouldnāt happen again but I didnāt just do nothing. But I canāt help but wonder what led up to me being in this situation? Or honestly any of these fucked up situations Iāve found myself in. How did I end up married to a man who put me down and beat my kids? I think thatās a legitimate question because I donāt want to spend my life being a battered woman. So what started as a decision to not waste so much time dating and focus on my goals, has turned into maybe I need to be single and celibate until Iām healthy, maybe I need to stop dating and work on myself.Ā
One thing I think led to this is being raised in an abusive household. Thereās a real culture of abuse in my family. When I was growing up both my parents were abusive. I donāt have a lot of good memories of my childhood. I remember being called a bitch, fat, lazy, stupid, you name it, by BOTH my parents. In middle school I was seeing a therapist because I was really depressed and anxious and she wanted to have me tested for ADHD, I was failing classes, and I wasnāt really trying but I was also having trouble focusing on anything. I donāt know that I had or ever had ADHD, as a grown up I realize depression and anxiety can cause difficulty with focus but I knew things werenāt okay. My son is ADHD and his therapist says thereās a lot of evidence itās genetic, so itās possible. So I brought this up to my Dad. My Dad blew up and threw a book at my face and told me there was nothing wrong with me that I was just a lazy ass bitch who needed to open a book, it hurt enough I remember it 30 years later. I remember being beat with an axe handle because I ran out the door to go play and the door didnāt close and my Dad said it was because I didnāt shut the door but I knew I had, so I wouldnāt say I left it open. He beat me until I had bruises and I remember screaming because I was worried about getting hit with the sharp part of the axe. Turned out the door was broken and wouldnāt latch. I remember my Mom pinning me down on the bed and slapping and punching me because I laughed at an inappropriate time. I watched my brothers head dent my wall from the other side of the wall because my Dad threw his head threw it. My friend recently told me she didnāt want to stay the night at my house when we were kids because one time when she was over my Dad pulled my pants down and beat me with a hair brush and then made me sit on the couch and watch everyone else eat cookies and they kept trying to get her to join in. I was frequently denied food. Even as a grown up I wouldnāt go see this doctor my Mom swore by because I remember as a 3rd grader he encouraged my parents to put me on a 1000 calorie diet. I remember crying and begging my Mom for food because I was so hungry. My Dad tried to put me on the slim fast diet that same year, and then tried to convince me to go to a fat camp, and I look at pictures of me during this time and I wasnāt even that overweight. My weight has always been a subject of ridicule from both my parents, even as an adult. I went home when I was pregnant with my son because I was sick and and needed help. I ended up septic with cellulitis and I was holding ice packs on my stomach to sleep because they wouldnāt take me to the ED because they felt nothing was wrong. My Dad told me the only thing that was wrong with me was that my fat ass needed to get up and do more. The night before I ended up in the hospital for two months they took me to the mall for my birthday so I could walk because they didnāt feel like I was moving enough. Then tried to take me to Applebees for my birthday because they had a low fat menu. I had just turned 30 and I was home and they initially forgot my birthday so this insult was their attempt to make amends. After I realized that theyād forgot my birthday I took my daughter to get ice cream and go to the beach alone. For my ex husbands birthday they threw him a surprise party, for me as an after thought they tried to make me go to a restaurant I didnāt even like because they had a menu that would hopefully help me not be such a fat ass. The kicker, everyone in my family is overweight, not just me. Infact I look like my Dad in that respect. I remember going to my Grandmas house when I was 8 or 9 and passing a cemetery and wishing I was there, my Dad had just beat the shit out of me for getting an attitude with him or something that earned a seriously disproportionate reaction, and then he made me go to the bathroom and wash my face with cold water which he always did if we were crying too hard and then he was taking me to my Grandmas because he had to do something over there. I just thought if this is what my life is going to be like Iād rather be dead. To be honest the happiest my parents have ever been with me was when I married my husband. In therapy I read a book about a narcissistic Dad and it was creepy how similar the Dad in the book was to my Dad. All the way down to pitting siblings against each other. Because to this day my brother and sister and I are in some giant competition with each other for my parents approval. Iāve opted out, itās why I didnāt move home because while I could recognize that Eric and my ex were damaging to my life, I could recognize my parents are just as damaging to it. The really crazy thing is my Dad and Mom will tell me how happy or proud they are of my brother and sister but never that theyāre happy or proud of me. But over the years Iāve come to realize they do this to them in regards to me. So we are all trying to get their approval because they wonāt ever compliment me to me or my sister to my sister. Now they do this with their grandkids, so my sister and sister in law are in some war over this, Iāve opted out. I will occasionally find myself getting upset because my kids are frequently forgotten but then I think about my childhood and I think maybe thatās a good thing. I donāt want my kids exposed to this. I think all these experiences really groomed me to be okay with being abused. Then of course as a teenager I dated a guy who cheated on me and lied to me all the time, like ALL THE TIME. I didnāt ever stand up for myself, I think now I maybe didnāt realize I deserved to be treated better. Then I was raped, I never said anything to anyone about that. Infact the guy showed up to lunch and asked me to go riding around with him the next monday like nothing happened. My best friend knew something happened. I was hanging at her house and he showed up and I acted really weird as she said and then I took off. She kept asking me what happened, what he did, and all I said was sheād be smart to keep him out of her house and away from her daughter. I was so ashamed and I just wanted to pretend like nothing had happened.
Eventually I got married and he was everything I couldāve asked for. He made me feel safe and confident. He was calm and always happy. When we left Michigan and my husband started working in his professional job, something changed. He really started to treat me like he was better than me or something. I was struggling so much at that point with post pardum depression and I initially felt like it was because I was letting him down because I sometimes couldnāt get out of bed. I ended up in the hospital for weeks at a time, I was on drugs. But even as I started to recover he did this and it gradually got worse. Nursing school pushed him over the edge. He frequently told people I wouldnāt do it Iād just quit. He started putting me down really passive aggressively, then more directly. Iād ask him to help me or ask him to do something around the house and it was almost like he intentionally wouldnāt just because I asked, it really was that childish. We fought constantly about money and housework, from the beginning. He didnāt do housework, I almost didnāt marry him over this. We got engaged and moved in together and I quickly found out that he was gross. That sounds mean but itās true. We have actually thrown away 2 stoves because he will not clean the stove top, but he insists on cooking. So no matter how big my workload was I was still expected to do all the housework. So when I worked 70 hours a week, with a new born and post pardum depression, to put him through college I was expected to clean just like I did when I was a stay at home mom or a freelance artist. When I was going to school full time, working part time and still doing everything I did with the kids like I did when I was a stay at home mom, I was still expected to do 100% of the house work. I was exhausted. If I spent money on myself at all it caused a fight. We struggled with bills, and even when I was struggling to feed the kids he wouldnāt work overtime. He also insisted on getting an allowance so that all his money didnāt go to bills and even if I was struggling to feed the kids he insisted on an allowance, that was also exhausting. He would tell the kids we didnāt have the money to do anything because I wasted all of our money when in reality there just wasnāt enough money. He frequently involved the kids in our fights. Heād make fun of me in front of them and his friends. The abuse towards the kids didnāt start until they got older. At first I honestly didnāt even recognize it as abuse, it wasnāt that much different than what I experienced growing up. Weād occasionally have fights about that, if I felt like he went too far Iād bring it up and weād fight. If he called the kids names Iād get mad. He frequently called my daughter a bitch. I think of all the things I dealt with growing up the name calling was the worst, being put down was the worst. To this day I hear my Dads voice in my head calling me fat and stupid and lazy. So I was really sensitive to that. It was like well she talked back of course she should get smacked across the face, she lied or whatever. Until my daughter lost it at school and admitted she was planning to kill herself. My 7 year old was having the same thoughts I had as a kid driving past a cemetery. I cried and cried and cried, because I knew exactly what she was feeling. I rarely hit my kids, like occasional spankings and never when I was mad. I just felt like after the things I had gone through with my parents I had the potential of going too far and I didnāt want to hurt my kids. With that though I knew I had to make changes, it was no longer optional. Itās sad that him insulting me wasnāt enough to make me leave though? Isnāt it? The first time he stood there with a bunch of people and made jokes about how stupid I was, while I held back tears because I felt so hurt and betrayed by that, shouldāve been the first time I thought about leaving. But my self worth was so bad that him treating me like that wasnāt what made me want to leave, it was him hurting my kids. But what did I do? I clung to another man who would only treat me worse?
There were many occasions where Eric did things that shouldāve been a red flag. I came to see him, and mind you I lived 210 miles away so it wasnāt a small thing to come see him at that time. Iād get here heād have time to have sex and then heād leave and that was it. So Iād make comments that all he wanted from me was sex and heād say no no and give me some line. But it was, thatās all the relationship he wanted from me. I never came back from seeing him and was happy, I didnāt like feeling used and cheap but I donāt know why I just had these feeling for him. Then there was the time he used me to get a blow job and then just took off and never came back and laid in bed and cried. I felt incredibly used, but again I continued to see him. I wish these were the worst things that he had done to me, I really do. The first time he was violent was one fall I drove to see him after my night shift job, so worked 12 hours and then drove 3.5 hours to see him because I was just so in love and he said come take a nap with me so I did. I remember feeling so happy that he wanted to see me. I get here and he tells me heās mad that I failed a test and he grabbed me by my throat and pushed up until I was on my tippy toes and told me he was upset. He proceeded toĀ āpunishā me. He took his phone out and took pictures during this, which I was upset about, I didnāt say anything though, I tried to ignore it but I was upset about it, during, after, everytime he brought the pictures up. We didnāt talk about pictures, we didnāt talk about punishment, we didnāt discuss any of this, the pictures werenāt consensual. To tell you how much I trusted this guy I was also in love with, after I left his house I did nothing but worry heād share them, or put them online, I was so stressed out, I still to this day worry about it. This evolved from being beat with a cane, to him biting me and staring at me like he was hoping to make me cry, to him deciding to fist me. I didnāt want to be fisted either, we hadnāt talked about that but he did it and he kept doing it until he said he wanted to hear me screaming. Like he wanted to hurt me. Then he almost abruptly threw me out, grabbed a bunch of stuff in a giant hurry and left. The days proceeding this were shocking. So by the time I got to my friends house my whole vagina had swelled up, like this was actually a lot of trauma, to the point where I got to her house and struggled to pee. More shocking than this I told him about it and he didnāt really care. Like if I had done something to someones penis that caused it to swell up Iād be horrified and Iād go see them or Iād act really remorseful but he didnāt do anything. When I was at his house I had this feeling that there was someone else. Like he really might have done this to me then threw me out like trash to go see his girlfriend or something? Slowly the swelling improved over the next day, he didnāt check up on me to see if it was better, like he truly didnāt care that he had hurt me. With the bdsm stuff if I was with someone trying new things like that we would have some pretty extensive after care, but there would have been some pretty extensive discussion before hand too and there wasnāt. Like if it had been someone else I would have stayed the night, or if I had called to say there was an issue they wouldāve come to me or insisted I wouldāve come to them, something. There would have been more support. But this wasnāt bdsm this was abuse, I was just entertainment and he had been entertained and it was over. That week I went to look at his page on this bdsm site and he blocked me. He tried to play it off like no he just deleted his account but Iāve family thatās on the same site and I asked my cousin to look, my cousin by the way hates this guy, she thinks he is everything that makes the bdsm community look bad. He still had his page. He denied it and denied it, but I had no idea why he blocked me, but I had had that feeling there was another girl. I didnāt want to keep asking my cousin to look so my friend and I created another page and just kept checking and a month or so later I confirmed it was another girl. This would be the first time he told me he loved me, it wasnāt because he loved me, it was because I was leaving because I knew he was lying. I have no clue why he cared? He was just trying to protect his occasional piece of ass? I have no idea, because I knew he didnāt care about me. He really did at this point suspend his account and he said whatever he had to to smooth things over. I think why didnāt I leave him alone at that? Every bit of that shouldāve made me think okay Iām in a relationship with a horrible person. But no what did I do? I made plans to move there, because while he was abusing me he said something that stuck to me, he said I needed to get through nursing school so I could come home to him. That really impacted me emotionally. I have no idea why youād say something so profound if you didnāt mean it? Just like why would you tell someone you loved them if you didnāt? I canāt answer that because I am not a bad person, so I donāt act like that. I donāt abuse the people in my life, so I donāt know how to explain the behavior of someone who does. In the end I made excuses for all of this. I thought well Iāll talk to him about the pictures, maybe this was just punishment that went over board, maybe he doesnāt understand aftercare, heās new to bdsm. He didnāt care, not about any of it, this wasnāt bdsm this was abuse.Ā
Other than the fact that he was just a complete piece of shit who walked all over me nothing really violent happened for quite a long time. I moved here, heād come for sex then ignore me. Iād see things or notice things here and there that made me aware there were others. I shouldāve kicked him out of my life 10 billion times but didnāt. I donāt know why, I feel like this is a problem, I think the fact that I allowed any of his behavior into my life is a giant red flag that maybe something is wrong with me, but I did. Eventually we were allegedly dating, because there were still others, so I was committed but he was not and I remember we had a conversation about how I some of my needs werenāt being met. He came over one night and it was rough, but quickly felt out of control to me. I remember fighting back, I donāt remember this as vividly but I remember him wrapping my hair around my bed frame and tying my feet together and beating me with my canes, and I remember crying. I remember thinking this canāt be happening to me. I remember laying there, not being able to fight him anymore thinking it was over, I really couldnāt be with this guy anymore. I remember heād beat me and randomly stop and fuck me and I felt disgusted by the fact that he was turned on. Because I was screaming and crying. I donāt know about most people but if I have to pin and tie down the person Iām sleeping with while they are screaming and crying, I wouldnāt be in the mood anymore. Even with the sadists I had been with there would always be a point where they knew I was at my limit and the focus wouldnāt be sexual anymore. But this man was not only in the mood he was continuing. I donāt completely remember why I was being punished, but this was allegedly punishment for something. I remember crying and laying still and just saying Daddy, because thatās what I called him, and then he stopped for no reason. He let me go and he held me until I calmed down. Alot of times by the end of these things he made me feel like I had done something good for him, like I had made him happy and weād have sex. I didnāt always want to but I felt like I had to. The bad thing about this was my daughter heard it, she heard him hitting me and me screaming and crying. When he left I walked out of my room and she was on the stairs crying, she was scared but didnāt know what to do, she was considering calling the cops. I didnāt know what to say to her? I wanted our new place to feel safe to her so I didnāt want to tell her what had happened. I played it off like we were just having a little fun and I was sorry she heard it. She still brings it up but now she thinks Iām loud when I have sex. I should have ended it there, because now it was effecting my kids but I didnāt. And this just got worse. Again I played this off like we just really needed to talk about it, that this wasnāt acceptable punishment and I was going to tell him that. He didnāt care, because this wasnāt a bdsm relationship, this was an abusive one.Ā
Eventually someone sends me this picture of him with another girl and I had to do something. Again that shouldāve just been it but I thought well maybe heāll just be honest with me now and weād talk to out? Iāve had friends who had a spouse cheat and they went to counseling and their relationship was actually stronger. I thought maybe weād work together and have a stronger relationship, maybe heād be honest with me. He wasnāt, cause this wasnāt that guy, he didnāt really care about me or our relationship. He said he ended it with the other girl, heād give me really inconsistent information about their relationship. I messaged her, the only question I had was does he call you princess, she didnāt respond, if she had I probably wouldāve ended it because Iām sure he did, it wasnāt special to him just to me. When it seemed obvious he didnāt care I got on a dating app and started talking to men. One day he came to my house, it was a saturday morning, at the time I worked friday nights. And he acted like he wanted to see me, like he wanted sex, and we start having sex, this is the time I remember vividly. I was on my stomach and he wrapped his wife beater around my neck and pulled. At first this felt good I like to be choked but soon my fingers and toes started tingling and everything started sounding muffled. I remember feeling stunned like I wasnāt completely sure of what was happening. Then I heard him say so you want to send pictures to other men huh? And I legit panicked I knew what was going to happen next I was terrified and I started to try to fight to get away and he forced my hands into the restraints on my bed with me screaming and crying, please donāt, please stop. I was kicking and the was sitting on my legs. this went on for what seemed like forever. Just like the time before he beat me with my canes, he broke one, he bite me, he pulled my hair, he choked me, he stopped randomly and fucked me, all while I was crying and screaming and trying to fight him off me. I was begging him to stop. My kids werenāt home this time. I remember thinking about my friend Lori. I had a friend who was killed by her fiance when she ended it. She was beat in the head with a hammer, thrown in her car, drove a ways up the highway, and then he parked on the side of the road and set the car on fire and hitch hiked home. I thought Iām going to end up just like Lori, I really was afraid he was going to kill me. He wasnāt stopping, he didnāt care, he was sexually excited by this. I just kept thinking itās over and Iām not being dramatic, I was that afraid. I decided at some point to try to get the restraints off my wrists and I managed to and thatās when he stopped. He got off me and I jumped off the bed and just cried, I was terrified of him. He kept trying to make it about other stuff, he kept saying over and over he loved me. He clearly didnāt love me. I cried the entire day, he got me to calm down long enough for him to leave and I started crying again. I thought about calling the cops, I was covered in bruises. I remember getting up for work because I had to go to work and he came back and I was scared. He brought roses, I really felt like I was in some stupid lifetime movie, he brought roses, he sexually tortured me and then he brought me roses. What a psycho! We had sex and I didnāt want to, I wanted him to leave, but I was afraid. It was very affectionate sex, like maybe he knew he went too far this time. I donāt think he felt sorry but I think he knew it wasnāt ok. It was the worst day. I remember walking into my job having not slept, having cried all day and being covered in bruises and I couldnāt even hold my purse on my shoulders. Through all the fighting I didnāt realize how bruised I was. I went in the bathroom and took pictures, I still have them, I was covered in bruises. I found bruises on my legs, back, breasts, stomach, I was covered. I used to get excited about bruises, it was like a reminder of a fun time. These made me sick to my stomach. There were other incidents after this but mostly he had basically bailed on me at that point. But he came over and we were going to have sex. I had bought this vibrator a guy I had went to this concert with had wanted me to buy so we could use it together because he lived like 3 hours away. I bought it but him and I werenāt seeing eachother and eventually I shared it with Eric. We tried to use it once but it didnāt go well and he claimed to want to see how it worked. He pulled my shirt over my head while we were having sex and I was nervous because he had his phone out to use the app and he had taken pictures of me without asking me permission before. So I was worried. It wasnāt until later that I found out that yes he did take a video of me with my shirt pulled over my head. Then he started threatening me. Eventually he started threatening to carve his initials in my boob and I just started crying. I was so scared of him, I thought heād do it. I screamed and I cried and he stopped. He said you know Iād never do anything to hurt you. But he had, on multiple occasions. He absolutely would have. After that I changed my locks. After that I knew it was over, despite every little thing that happened after that, I was actually afraid of him and I knew this would continue no matter what I did. I have on occasion thought about going to the cops with my pictures and asking what I could do. More so because I remember that feeling of finding out my rapist had raped other people, I felt like I couldāve stopped it. Clearly this man is dangerous, maybe I could stop it. The charges he is already on probation for are all the same things he did to me. I think the fact that he did this to someone else and he got a year of probation is disgusting. It says a lot about how and why so much violence against women happens. And itās why I didnāt go to the cops because they obviously didnāt care about who ever he hurt before me. After the nightmares lately Iām definitely considering therapy. I think maybe itās good to take time from dating and work on myself because he did break me, and the worst part is heās not even sorry.
So now I am paranoid about things in my life. I broke down on the side of the road close to my house and I panicked, I called everyone whose number I knew because I felt like I wasnāt safe, I felt like I had finally got him out of my life and I had finally broke that hold he had over my mind and I felt vulnerable sitting there on the side of the road. When my friend showed up I was shaking and I couldnāt even explain it. I did eventually tell her that that guy I was seeing he had hurt me and I just knew if he saw me on the side of the road heād stop and if heād stop Iād be in love all over again and he could hurt me again. Turned out she had been in an abusive relationship before and she completely understood. She helped me get my car home and now I feel a lot less alone. I got my new car and took it the next day to get it tinted, I was insanely insistent it happened immediately. I didnāt want to be driving around and have him see me in my new car incase he is watching me. If I had the money Iād have moved immediately. But I feel stronger now and I donāt think Iād so easily let him in again. But I donāt want the next guy to be someone like him, or my ex, or my Dad, I deserve peace and happiness in my life. So Iām taking a break for myself. Iāve smudged my house now, my weird native friend Darcy who was convinced I was a healer had showed me how when I was a kid, he taught me a lot actually. Iāve a bag of stones he put together for me for protection and I took it out. Iāve smudged my room more than once now and I think it helped. I asked a friend of mine who deals in crystals what she thought because it still feels heavy upstairs and I ordered a large orb recently. My goal is peace and happiness, no matter how much sage and sweet grass I have to burn. But counseling I think is needed.Ā
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