What's Love Got to Do with It?

"Go grab me my wallet."

"Can you give me a second? I’m a little busy."

"So, you’re just gonna disobey me?"

"I’m not. I just—"

At this point, I can hardly breathe. I have large hands covering my neck as my fingernails are clawing at his face. But the more I tug, kick and scream, the more he chokes, yells and slams.

It’s scientifically proven that a head weighs 10 lbs. So just imaging how it felt after forcefully contacting a wall. The inside of my head felt like a stack of bricks and I was mumbling...

"Hel..."

"Hel... me."

I continually screamed out for help, so I thought but I was nearly whispering. I was fading out as much as my voice. And that’s when it hit me. It was him. He hit me. I just used that for dramatic effect.

So yeah, I woke up and I was in a hospital bed but with limited movement.

"I just can’t believe she would do something like this."

"Do what?" I asked.

"Babe! I’m so glad you’re alright."

Since I was only 110 lbs at the time, I couldn’t do much to his big ass besides think of the many ways I could kill him and make it look like an accident.

"Exactly, what did I do to you? And why am I strapped to this bed? And why am I here?" I was moving as hard as I could to get the straps off, but I looked like I was getting electrocuted, so I stopped.

"I was trying to stop you from hurting yourself. But you kept fighting me off, saying you wanted to die. Why would you want to do that?" His thick and droopy eyebrows really did assist him while pretending to express concerns.

"Gee, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the time you repeatedly slammed my head to—"

He started adjusting his posture, his lips started synchronizing to his right side, and he stretched his knuckles so loud I knew I was going to get it for being smart.

"Doctor, may I please have a moment with my girl?"

"Sure. If there’s anything you need ma’am just press this button on the side—it will communicate the nurses’ station."

Our brown eyes met, and something told me everything was going to be alright.

And just like that, she comes back into the room and injects him on the side of the neck. It instantly makes him drop to the floor as my heart began beating uncontrollably and I froze. She comes up to me with keys in her hands and unstraps me. She tells me to run as fast and as far as I can to safety. And I do just that.

I drastically sit up from the bed and gasp loudly for air. I look around and all I see is… creamed colored walls, navy blue cotton pillows, with the matching bed set.

"I can’t believe this sh**t," I say as I scan the room.

"I think you were having a dream."

"How long was I—"

"Last time I checked, I didn't give you permission to speak."

"I was just as—"

He creeps up slowly from the bedroom door to my side of the bed. He keeps moving his head from side to side deciding if he should give me mercy or show me a lesson.

He shows me a lesson.

"How many *bam* times, do I *bam* I have to *bam* tell you to stop *bam* interrupting me *bam*.” He finally lets my body meet the floor for a few minutes and that’s usually when I like to catch my breath and hold it in, so the punches are tolerable. The feeling of numbness is making an appearance on my face, as I slowly squirm to get on my feet.

I get nowhere, as a size 11 boot stomps on my back and forces me to the floor again. Again, again, again, again, again and again—oh and one more time.

My body started shutting down. I had the taste of bloody fists in my mouth. My lips swelled so bad I couldn't even mouth for help. My eye lids came together in slow motion as a tall and bulky shadow disappeared.

My body was found lifeless and cold on our bedroom floor.

By our six-year-old daughter.

"9-1-1. What is your emergency?"

"I need help. My mom’s sleeping."

"Your mom is sleeping?"

"Yes, but why isn't she breathing?"

Anonymous Survivor Testimonials

"One of the many red flags I chose to ignore was my fear towards him. Not his accusations of me allegedly having an affair. Not him threatening to kill me. Not him controlling my every move. I was afraid of him. I lived in constant fear 24/7, especially when I wasn’t with him and I was spending it with my family. I remember I came home for the holidays and accidentally fell asleep on my parents’ couch—I woke up to 42 missed calls, 11 voicemails, and 78 text messages, in a span of an hour."

"The number one red flag was him throwing objects around me and punching anything that was close to me. He didn’t lay his hands on me, even though I knew his intentions were that. I feared that one day I wasn’t going to be so lucky and he would just completely lose it."

"I kept a lot of my feelings to myself and I decided to be as submissive as I could, so the beatings would go down. But that didn’t seem to help because he thought I was having an affair."

"We were in the car and I wanted to change the radio station, so I did, and he changed it back to whatever he was listening to. I extended my arm and he slapped it away and told me to not even think about it. I thought he was joking so I laughed and changed it. That’s when my lip got busted for the first time."

"I was isolated from my family and friends."

"He’s actually in prison right now but I constantly have nightmares and wake up drenched in sweat. I know he’s not able to hurt me, but he traumatized me so much that emotionally I’m unavailable."

Love /ləv/: an intense feeling of deep affection

Now for some, love is making it through a day without getting their ribs bruised. I have spoken to women that were manipulated into asking themselves "What did I do to deserve this?"

Some escape. Some don’t. Some become survivors. Some become corpses.

My next series of blogs will focus on childhood trauma and how it molds a toxic person. Pay close attention, because the six-year-old girl who found her mother dead will either become a victim or a predator of toxic dating.

If you or anyone you know is currently involved in an abusive relationship, please reach out to the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233.