Happily never after

*TRIGGER WARNING* The following account is a graphic story of domestic abuse and may not be suitable for some readers. My hope is that it can bring closure to a 40 year old haunting memory. Names are being omitted for obvious reasons.

She loved a man, a long time ago, at least she thought it was love. She swore that she would never marry a man like her father, who was a drunken abuser. Yet she did. At a tender age (late teens) she fell head over heels with a man who only drank occasionally. He was a good man and soon became a father. A good father, a good husband. Until the drinking, drugs and the wrong crowd brought a blanket of darkness down over her family. The parties were an every night ordeal. Add to that an addiction to painkillers and some bad “friends”, and it was a volatile concoction brewing. Firstly, understand that this man did some really devious things to feed his addiction. It was not beneath him to steal and lie to get his meds. The booze flowed freely and the pills were always available. Bills didn’t get paid and basic needs were put aside for this man's “needs.” She did the best she could to quell every situation but the more she spoke, the angrier and meaner he became. She tried to leave a few times but he always found her and brought her back. The beatings started about 3 years into the marriage. It started with a slap across the face for being “mouthy” and then the grabbing and shaking for “not listening.” To the punches when she didn’t do what she was told. She was a bit of a thing at 110 lbs. He had about 80 lbs on her and she had no chance.

She had gone to the police a few times and they would take him in for drunk and disorderly, then release him in the morning. What he would do to her when he got home made her not call them again. She tried to hide the bruises the best she could if she had to go out (which wasn’t allowed often) and if she couldn’t, she stayed home. His family was a long line of male abusers so she found no help in them. He was raised to ‘keep his woman in line.’ The parties were nonstop and when she caught him having sex on the living room floor with her friend, she had enough but when she went to leave with the baby, he put the baby back to bed and dragged her downstairs by her hair. He made her watch as he finished his playtime with her best friend. She didn’t dare move or make a sound. The tears flowed heavy that night. She couldn’t leave him and she didn’t want to stay. She was trapped by him and a society that was ok with what a husband did with his wife in the privacy of their own home.

She was getting quite used to the mental and physical abuse. So much so that she hardly ever shed a tear each time he hit her. She learned to suck it all inside of herself and swallow it. She truly believed this was how her life would end one day. Then the worst day of her life came. August 30,1980 He had gone out with a bunch of buddies bar hopping. He had arranged for the baby to stay with her mom (should’ve been the 1st red flag). She went to bed around 11 knowing he wouldn’t be in until the bars closed at 2. Sound asleep with the door locked to the bedroom, she felt safe for now. She wasn’t even sure what time it was when he kicked the door in and told her to get downstairs. She was crying before she even got to the stairs. Trying to beg him to stop she was silenced by his hand around her throat. He said he brought his buddies home for drinks and he wanted her to “tend bar.” He dragged her to the living room where everyone was. She knew each of them, their faces would be forever etched in her mind. She said their names out loud and looked towards them for some kind of help. None was received.

There on the floor was a mattress that had been used and tucked away by her when she refused to sleep with him. She looked at him and said “no please” although she knew that wouldn’t help. He threw her down on the mattress, when she tried to get up he kicked her back down. He looked at his “friends” and i use the word loosely, and said “everybody pay up” (at the beginning I told you he would do ANYTHING for his addiction) Clothes were shed and screams were heard by the neighbors (who did nothing) 7 men...1 woman...3 hours. After 2 she went numb, the tears still fell and she stopped fighting. Every orifice, every man and yes he stood there and let it continue. She glanced his way just once and she swore there was a grin on his face. She wanted to kill each one of them over and over and in her mind she WAS dead. He sold her for $700 that night for Vicodin. When it was finally done, there was blood and bodily fluids all over her. She couldn’t move and she hoped for death that night. Everyone left and he covered her with a sheet, kissed her on the cheek, said “I love you” and went to bed.

The next day was not spent at the E.R but rather in bed. Matter of fact 3 days in bed before she could walk again. The house was quiet for a few weeks with no company and very little noise. The baby was vacationing with her mom. He said not a word to her and she lay there night after night and imagined how she could kill him and get away with it. Time moved on and so did her life. It would be quite a few years before she could escape her captor and start over. To this day he still claims he doesn’t remember any of it. It’s really easy for people to ask questions like “why didn’t you just walk away?” “you couldn’t do anything?” the answer is always the same...when it is that abusive and you fear for you or your child's life...NO you don’t think you can walk away or do anything. If you have never been through it, you have no idea!

Laws have changed dramatically in the last 40 years but they still haven’t changed enough. Domestic abuse is physical AND mental, it destroys you as a person. It kills every part of you. Makes you feel at fault and ashamed. Makes you carry this horrific memory for a lifetime. It affects your ability to love and be loved. Makes you feel damaged. Has you questioning your self worth. Therapy teaches us to talk about such tragedies, so here is her story. As sad as it is, don’t feel sorry for her because after all that was said and done, she finally got away and is hoping that the telling of her story will bring her a type of closure. 40 years is a long time to carry an unspoken story. So here’s to healing and the next 40 years burden free.

Much love G.