Compared to alot of women, I had it pretty good. I never had black eyes, I never had broken bones. The ambulance never took me away. My husband is about 6'3 , 240 lbs. I am about 5'3 , 120 lbs. He liked to kick.He liked to throw. He never punched me. Maybe that's part of the reason I wasn't sure I was being abused .Long before there were bruises, there was pushing and shoving. And truth be told, at the beginning of our relationship I pushed him too. I would slam doors, I would slap him when he wouldn't let go of me. One day it occurred to me I should stop. I remember thinking that if the situation ever escalated, because on some level I knew it would, I wanted a clear conscience. I wanted to be able to say " I didn't touch him." And almost on cue, that's when the first real incidence happened. In a hotel , after a friends wedding. We were walking to our hotel from the bar arm in arm and laughing, but H was strange all night and I was scared.We said good bye to our friends , and H seemed okay. At least to anyone but me. An old friend from high school had said he had a crush on me 15 years before. Once inside the hotel room , things got ugly quick. I remember H saying " Why would he have a crush on you? No one would have a crush on you, He was just making his girlfriend jealous".
I was nervous to go to the wedding to begin with. It was H's friends, not mine. Young Chiropractors who thought they were important. They were all doing very well financially. They all knew I used to work at McDonald's and never let me forget it. H and I had recently had our first son. I gained alot of weight during the pregnancy, and worked extremely hard to lose it before the wedding. The attention I received was nice for me, not so nice for H.
First move , grab me by the arms , squeeze like a python and shake.His first move turned out to be very consistent over the years. If you ever see a woman with bruises on her upper arm, I would worry. Its a strange place to have a bruise unless someone put it there.Second move, throw me. Off the bed, on the bed, into a dresser. Once I would land somewhere I would curl up in a ball .I would try to cover my face , and protect my head. The first time this happened, I thought once he saw me cowering in a ball on the floor he would stop. Instead of stopping , my back became a target. For his foot.Again and again. I of course was crying and screaming " Please stop, Please stop!" And of course ,I was begging for forgiveness. " I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Sometimes I would stay in the fetal position for a long time, waiting for him to cool down. Sometimes he would pick me up while I was still in that position and move me to the bed. I felt like a turtle, safe inside my own little world. My shirt was usually soaked with tears, snot and wetness all over. My hair matted to my red and puffy face.Sometimes , he would try to unravel me, but I would stay stiff like a statue. And when it was over, it really had just begun. The sex to prove I loved him. The coldness for days because I had hurt his feelings. After the first time, we had a two hour drive back home. I cried the whole way, begging him to forgive me, I don't remember what for. It was summer in NC ,short sleeve weather. My mind was racing, how would I do this?? I remember being so thankful I had brought a long sleeve sweatshirt . It would cover the bruises on my arms.The bruises on my back no one would see, I just wouldn't go swimming. There was a babysitter at home, and I remember being almost happy . Happy and proud that no one would know. Proud of the fact we had a secret between us. I felt I had accomplished something when the baby sitter had asked why I had a sweatshirt on and I simply told her I had been chilled in the air conditioning. See ,,, I could be a good wife. I became a liar that day. And I stayed a liar for a long , long time.
Some years later I needed to have a spinal tap. "Fetal position please. " the Doctor said. My body knew what to do. Brace , hang on, it would soon be over. I still can't get in that position without shaking. They thought I might have MS , or a brain tumor. But seriously the most traumatic thing I went through that day was the position I was in. Lying there , still and waiting for the pain. Too much. The scariest thing H ever did to me was the day the fetal position didn't work anymore. And he said " No, your not hiding your face from me. " I had fingerprints on my neck and jaw from where he grabbed me.
Funny, no one noticed.
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