Sex with an abuser

I wouldn't say I was raped exactly. I had sex many times against my will however. One of the worst things that happened during my marriage was that my right to choose was taken away. My right to choose clothes. My right to choose friends. My right to choose who  and what I cared about. My right to choose when or if I had sex. He didnt physically hold me down, he didn't need to. The constant pressure, the constant badgering the constant guilt was more than enough. Daily.I felt the pressure constantly. I remember when he would leave for work I could breathe again, I still had about an hour before I had to get the kids up for school. I would sleep on my left side all night, even though my herniated disc in my neck  made sleeping on my left side almost unbearable. But with my back to H , and curled up tight I felt almost safe enough to sleep. That hour every day , when I could turn over , stretch out , sleep without worry , was heaven. When I was exhausted or just needed a break and I would reject him ( even though I would never really reject him, I would say I was tired, which I was . ) H would say things like " You never want sex, you must be getting it somewhere else" even when we had sex daily, or every other day. Or " I'm just so insecure, its not my fault, I dont feel loved, thats why I want (need) sex all the time" It got to the point I would try to say no, and he would spend hours badgering me until I would give in. It would literally go something like this , Me -" Fine , whatever" H-  " Ok"  Me- laying motionless, tears running down my face, head turned away. H - not caring about the tears, just annoyed I wasn't " into " it. Me- crying harder, H- " You know I cant deal with you when your crying" H- " why do you always try to wreck everything" . It always amazed me he could finish, I was like a weeping manequin. Frozen . Somehow it never bothered him enough to stop. When it was over he would get up , kiss me on the cheek, like we were a normal married couple that just made love. But we werent. I would feel hollow. Empty, like a hollow chocolate Easter bunny. I didn't even feel like crying, why bother. I felt gone.H wasn't much for affection, not privately anyway. In public he was very doting. Privately he would say he was just sooo attracted to me he couldn't touch me without being excited. Every hug was sexual. Every touch felt like a threat. I was so lonely. Soo confused. At the time I didnt know why I felt so bad all the time. I had a husband that wanted to have sex with me all the time.....why did I feel so shitty??? I know why now. Thats not how it should be. I would be angry at him if I still wasn't so frightened. But I am .

Anger

I am an angry person. Sometimes it consumes me.I can feel it building in my stomach , and it oozes out of my pores. My anger creates an invisible ,but palpable energy field around me.My children might not see it with their eyes but they know when my " shields " are up. This is the thing I am most ashamed of. When my mood swings this way , my kids literally say " Have you been talking to Dad? Please don't talk to him." They used to try to hide my phone.When it is at it's worst , I yell at my kids. Completely rage. I look for things wrong so I have something to scream about.  Unfortunately, I cant blame everything on H. I am responsible for my actions.

The reason I get so angry isn't because of the place I 'm at in my life. I will be okay, my kids will be okay. I feel denied of the anger I should of had then. When I was in a ball on the floor after H abused me, when I was crying at Wal-Mart because of H's cruelty. It keeps coming up and has no where to go. It hits me at the strangest times. One day I was at a jewelery store to see if they could fix some old earrings .It  happened to be Wedding Day Jewelers. There was a man there who was very  excited to propose to his future wife.I looked around, surrounded by wedding rings. My whole body felt sick, I had a sudden desire to just get OUT of there. When I got to  my car I was shaking. It meant so much to me to be married, it was my whole life.The combination of H never asking me to marry him( he said , "If you still want to get married, okay" and shrugged his shoulders) the fact we had to sell my wedding ring because we needed the money and the reality that my marriage is really over was too much. At first I thought I was sad. And then I realized I was angry.

H does not appreciate my anger. He feels I need to get over it. He feels he gave me a great life that I never appreciated. Recently I have expressed my frustration  about his parenting. In my opinion he treats our children like toys. When he wants to play with them, they should be there. When he doesn't feel like playing they should be on the shelf , sitting quietly. His job, friends and girlfriends have always  come before the needs of my kids. The first year we were broken up he didn't give them one bath, or wash their clothes one time. Now he has decided he want to be a good father. I am concerned it won't last. We were arguing the other day and I said some things I shouldn't have Not because they were wrong, because they just don't  matter any more. I said he always chose work over our family. He said his work gave us a great life in NC and I enjoyed the fruits of his labor. Great Life? I Enjoyed?  H was so controlling with every penny. I didn't grocery shop by myself, I didn't pick out my own clothes. He would brag to people that I could buy whatever I wanted, that he wasn't controlling. Technically he was right. I had the physical ability to buy things. But emotionally, the repercussions were usually enough to keep me in line. I guess not having any  freedom and getting beaten up are his ideas of a great life.

It is this disconnect that makes me angry. H's accounts of the past, - yes he abused me, but he has apologized.What do I want his blood? No he shouldn't of hurt me, but I have hurt him too. I had everything I ever wanted ( not sure why he thinks that , since he never asked me what I wanted!) why am I complaining. The truth is when we lost all our money  and H's business wasn't successful, I actually thought it would humble him. I actually thought maybe he would come back to earth. He didn't . I am angry. I am angry at H. I am angry at myself.
 I know how to fix it. Quit trying to get something from H that he can't give me. He will never justify my feelings.

But I finally realize that doesn't mean they're not justified.

I don't want to be angry any more. It is eating me alive.  I think I am waiting for something. Permission maybe? Permission to be happy, to let go. Maybe ,I feel like if I let it go what happened won't matter. I feel like a crime was committed and no one got punished. Like I'm standing on a street corner screaming " That man stole my purse, that man stole my purse! " and every one walks on by.Not only walks by , but pats the man on the back. I want him punished. But I am really just punishing myself.

Fetal Position

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.

Abused? Who me

Domestic Violence. Abuse. Wife Beater. What do these words mean? The media likes to portray these things as a man in a dirty t-shirt, drinking beer and complaining about his supper. Everyone cowers around him. Or as a handsome control freak, checking the order of canned food  and hand towels. Very rarely , if ever , have I seen an abusive relationship seem normal from the outside.On TV and the movies the bad guy is pretty easy to spot.

My children ran into there fathers arms. We had dinner parties. People laughed at his jokes. Women would comment on how wonderful H was. Someone actually said to me once, " If you two ever get divorced , theres no hope for anyone!" . I think she meant we were so happy, so  in love, she couldnt imagine it not lasting forever. I was so attached to the public perception of  "us" that I honestly did not think I was being abused. It didn't occur to me. AT ALL. Even after I was beaten dozens of times. I also thought I knew what a  "wife beater " was. He didnt look any thing like my husband. People liked my husband.If what my husband was doing was so bad, people wouldnt like him , right?

Even though most people had no idea what was really happening, some people had a clue. Some people had more than a clue. H beat me once at my sisters house. I thought my arm was broken. She promptly gave me an ice pack, but said nothing. She did not  call the police. She did not ask me any questions. H told  me on the way home that my brother in law , pulled him a side and said, " I understand, I know how those Thompson girls are." Now to the defense of my brother -in -law, H lies alot. Even if that wasnt what was said, the fact that they did nothing put there stamp of approval on what happened. There stamp of approval gave H more power than ever. That little part of him that knew it was wrong was gone. That little part of me that had any hope that I would get help, was also gone.

After this incident , I really felt like I wasnt a person anymore. I felt like a dog that had misbehaved. H beat me on and off for 10 years. It wasnt until he got arrested that I realized  what he was doing was wrong. He got arrested because he beat me at a New Years Eve party  in front of my neighbors, who called the police. Yes, INFRONT of my neighbors. When he went to jail , it was shocking to me. Shocking.I can only imagine the look on my face when the police officer told me they took him to jail . I almost asked what for. I am an intelligent person, I come from a good family, and I had no idea. It is amazing to me now how far away from myself I was. Once he got arrested the police become involved and they have people who suggest counseling etc.. I thought " what for?" I did NOT want to label myself  that way. The media does not portray victims of domestic violence that great either. ( Even though I look alot like Julia Roberts LOL!) I did not want to be perceived as weak, or stupid, and I couldn't bear to hear " why didn't you just leave?"


More to come soon,,,,

Lost and Found

The last few years have been difficult. I have been trying to untangle myself from a very sticky web. Today I am going to talk about the things I have lost, but I also want to talk about all the things I have gained. Not only did I lose my marriage, my house and all my money. I lost four of the most important people in my life. My mother and my two brothers passed away. The fourth person , is of course my husband. Trying to maneuver through life without these people has been unbearable.

My brother Cliff died 10 years ago from AIDS. Cliff was my first love. He was 10 years older than me. We would dance in the living room, he would braid my hair, he took me to lunch. Even as I got older we stayed very close. He loved me unconditionally , and was also very honest with me.  My mother and father went to visit him in California to help him find an apartment closer to his Medical Clinic. After my father returned from a jog, he tried to wake my brother. My brother was dead. Between you and I , I think my brother died of an overdose.Because he had AIDS there was no foul play suspected and it was as simple as that.  My artistic , talented brother was sick of his hands not working , sick of his memory being gone. Sick of being sick. With my parents there , they would take care of things after he was gone. I was blind sided and devastated. We all knew he was sick , but I was hoping to see him one more time. The funeral  was planned in MN. I begged H to go with me. Literally begged him. He " couldn't " go. I barely talked to him when I was in MN ( we were living in NC) . After the funeral , I remember sitting in my sisters bedroom and bawling, trying to get in contact with him. He didn't answer the phone. I found out later, he had a friend over the night  before and was so hungover, he was asleep. After I returned to NC , when I went to vacuum , the vacuum smelled horrible. He was supposed to be taking care of our one year old son. I learned he put him to bed early, and let him cry, while him and his friend got wasted. The vacuum was used to clean up the throw up. H lied to me about what  really happened for a long long time. Not that any of that really matters but  that's what I remember about my brother dying, needing H, and him needing to get drunk. 

My brother Jr. died three years ago from AIDS. He died several weeks after H got arrested for domestic assault. Jr. loved H. H loved Jr. We bought plane tickets for Jr. to come visit us in NC ( Jr. lived in Memphis), we spent Christmases , birthdays and baptisms together. My children loved him. I loved him. He gave me the best Christmas present I have ever and will ever receive. He wrote me a letter. He told me how proud he was of me, and what a great person I was becoming. He always thought the best of me. He always defended me. He loved me. Jr. and H had a great relationship, they laughed, they talked and Jr. thought H was good to me. Not only good , but he thought I was spoiled. H was always charming and wonderful around other people, I think that's why I always wanted to have people around.   So when H got arrested I couldn't call Jr. I was still trying to defend H. Jr. DID not approve of men hitting women. So when my brothers partner called and told me Jr. was in the hospital , I felt it was a great time to get away, so I flew to Memphis. My parents met me at the hospital. None of us had any idea he had quit taking his AIDS medicine.None of us had any idea he ways days away from death. I went to Memphis to have some time alone, and to help my brother recover. When the Dr.s told us he wasbrain dead, my family decided to pull the plug. I thought H was at home taking care of our three kids. At least I didn't have to worry about them. H was actually on a plane to Memphis, without my knowledge or permission. As I took the elevator down to the hospital lobby, after watching my brother die, I heard someone say, " Have you seen H?"   And then I heard my father say " Your a sight for sore eyes"  , my family was happy to see him. I had to play along, my family was going through enough, but I wanted to scream. I wanted to mourn my brother, without worrying about H.


My mother died from COPD in August. She died a day after I learned my house was in foreclosure. My mother had been very ill for a long time. We had a sometimes wonderful, but mostly rocky relationship. My mother however was usually very good in a crisis. We were close, and she knew almost everything about me. She could be kind, she could be cruel. In the bathroom of the restaurant we went to after Jrs funeral, she told me I needed to " get over" H beating me. She did love me unconditionally though, and tried to be supportive as she watched me get back together with H time and time again. One thing for sure, I could always talk to her. I miss her and her voice, very much.

And H. Well I lost the idea of H. But I did lose  someone to help with the kids, someone to mow the lawn ,and someone to watch a movie with.

Now for the things I have gained. I have gained honesty. I am not trying to pretend to have this perfect life anymore. It is what it is, I am what I am. I have gained the knowledge that people truly love me and I am not alone. I have learned that money and things don't really matter. I have had to let my wedding ring, house and other possessions go. Getting rid of stuff, physically and emotionally has been healing. I am looking forward to a simpler life. I have also gained a sense of humor, I cant tell you how many times I have laughed at the utter ridiculousness of it all. One day one of my friends commented on my eye make up, she said she liked it better lighter. She said when I wore it dark it made me look like I had a black eye. I laughed, and said,,,," how do you know , maybe I did!!"  She laughed too, not an uncomfortable  you poor thing laugh, but a real - 'I cant believe you just said that!" laugh. Most importantly though, I have learned life is short. When I was younger I thought only people who had resolved there issues died. That you only died after your life could fit into a pretty box with a bow on it. It didn't occur to me that you could die sad, mad or unhappy. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I need to make my life work. Today. I need to tell people I love them . Today. I do want to be happy. I would never be happy with H. I could survive. I could get through. I want more than that.