Dramatic Changes

Things have changed dramatically in the past few weeks, so it's time for me to stop pussyfooting around and bring you up to speed.

I have given you a peak into my childhood and the beginning of this tumultuous life; let me continue by fast forwarding to the beginning of the end.

I am 43 years old. I have been married and divorced twice. I have one child, a 24 year old son (who is my joy, my constant and my heart. Shameless proud mom plug). I got engaged at 18, pregnant and married in a short span of time. His father did not come without his own baggage, but we had a good relationship, for awhile. He is a good man, but was very controlling and always spoke to me in a demeaning manner. He was very much a family man when it came to his family, but did very little for or with mine. He expected me to do everything for him and his family, but never gave me the same consideration. I loved his family and it never bothered me to do anything for them, they are incredible people. We had a group of very good friends that we did everything with. Fishing, hunting, boiling seafood, you name it, it was always a family affair and we all got together almost every weekend to do something. Towards the end, we were no longer invited and every weekend was a "boys" trip. By "we", I mean the wives and the kids were no longer included. There was no longer any time being spent and certainly no communication. Arguments became more frequent and the last year of our marriage, he worked out of town Monday through Thursday, came home Thursday afternoon, turned around and went to the camp. He spent no time at all with me, nor our son. At 7 years old, my son asked me after his father had left for the weekend (yet again), "Mom, where did my daddy go?" I replied, "He went to the camp with your uncle." "Mom, what does my daddy think? Does he think that he can kick us to the curb like yesterday's trash?" At that moment, I knew I had to leave. I didn't leave because of the way I was being treated. I left because as long as I stayed and took care of everything, my son would never have a relationship with his father.

Towards the end, the relationship had its moments of volatility. My husband had begun to push me here and there, slap me and before it grew into full blown beatings, I left. He was the first to hit me and when I left, I swore that I would never tolerate the way I was treated ever again. The best thing I ever did was leave. He and I are friends, he and our son have a good relationship and he has never laid his hands on another woman. I was the first, and the last, which is rarely heard of in domestic violence. He is a good man, we just couldn't live together any longer.

My second husband was never physically abusive towards me, but he was emotionally abusive. We had known each other for several years, had lost touch and ran into each other at a concert one night began talking and dating again. We got married a little over a year later. Roughly 8 months after we married, he admitted to having an Opiate addiction and asked for help. I dropped everything and got him the help he needed. He traveled quite often for work and our time was limited. Not long after getting sober, everything changed. He began taking more out of town assignments, was never home and when he was, we never talked and never spent ANY time together. We had become more like roommates. He had become totally emotionless and it seemed I no longer existed. As soon as the fighting started, I walked away. I wasn't going through the begging and pleading just to have a relationship with my husband. He had gotten the job he always wanted, gotten off the pills and no longer had a need for me. Nothing that I ever did was good enough for him, he made that blatantly clear. He was making more money than I was, yet I was paying his bills because he was careless, he never contributed to household expenses. The only thing that mattered to him was himself.

I didn't get involved in any serious relationships for awhile after my second divorce. It was hard enough just dating and I somehow kept getting involved with these men who seemed to be alright, but all ended up hitting me. I was done. I didn't want to be with or around a man. Then I met Steve. Up until this point, I have been hesitant to use his real name, but this is a real story and if someone should recognize who he is, especially a woman, then they deserve to know the truth.

I met Steve in August 2010. We worked at a bar called Neon Moon. I was tending, he was a bar back and worked security. I really wasn't interested in dating him, or being involved in any way but you know how that goes. All of us would hang out after work from time to time and we started talking more. We seemed to have a lot in common, but narcissists are good at portraying themselves that way. We began dating and he moved into my house February of the next year. Everything was good. He had 2 sons from a previous marriage and after some time we got along too.

Steve was a fence installer and I had just finished my last semester of college. I was trying to decide what I wanted to do and where I wanted to work when an opportunity to buy an established fence company presented itself. I had the business knowledge and he had the industry knowledge and the deal was too good to ignore. My mom and I discussed it and we partnered and bought the business. We took the business over in July 2012. Almost exactly one year later, I got beat the first time.

The first beating put me in the hospital with a mild concussion. We had been arguing and it got heated. The messed up part is that the beating occurred after I walked away. I WALKED AWAY! I told him I wasn't fighting anymore that we both just needed to sleep it off and that I was going to sleep in the kid's room. A few minutes later, he appeared in the room. I was laying on the bottom bunk of the bed, trapped when he started beating my head. I was able to escape, got out the house, went to a friend's and to the ER the next morning. "Why didn't you leave then," you ask? Very simple. I didn't have the confidence to think I could run the business without him because of his industry knowledge. I wanted to, but I felt trapped. In true abusive, narcissistic form, he apologized. He swore it would never happen again, he was sorry and that he loved me and didn't want to lose me. He said all the standard lies that all abusers say. I didn't believe him, but I was trapped. I knew that no matter what I did, he would not leave quietly. I wasn't moving, it was MY house. Had I have kicked him out at that point and fired him from the business, I would have become a statistic. 75% of domestic abuse related homicides occur after the victim gets away. I am still at risk of becoming one of that 75%.

He didn't lay a hand on me again until a year later. In August 2014, he started hitting me again. It started slow. A slap here, a slap there, pulling my hair, pushing me into things and it escalated quickly. I called the cops in August and because I didn't have any visible injuries at the time, they really didn't take me seriously. I didn't press charges that time because he always promised he would be out of jail in 24 hours and he WOULD kill me when he got out. I knew I didn't have enough evidence. I kicked him out in December, but foolishly let him back only because I didn't want to ruin Christmas for the kids. I began to pray. I prayed and prayed that God help me get him out of my life for good and help me to stop him from hurting another woman. I prayed that no matter what it took, I would find a way through it if he only made it stop! 3 months later I got what I had prayed for. In actuality, I got a lot more than I had asked for (more on that later).

March 4th, 2015, Steve beat me for the last time. He beat and strangled me almost to death. Before I end this post for the day and let this abbreviated story  (I will share detail later, but feel free to ask anything) sink in a little bit, here is a list of my resulting injuries:

Initial Injuries:

• Level 3 severe concussion (worst you can sustain)
• Black eyes for 4 months due to brain swelling and draining
• Soft foods for awhile due to strangulation
• Peripheral vision loss in the left eye
• Bruised sternum and ribs. (X-rays showed no fractures, but I could feel at least 3 hairlines). I still have issues with one that is extremely painful causing swelling in the chest and making it hard to breathe.
• Short term memory loss
• Difficulty speaking

Long Term Injuries:

• 1st rib on my right side is out of alignment (luckily, you can only really tell when I lose a lot of weight)
• The left side of my jaw is so far out of place that one wrong hit and it will dislocate. This will require me to wear a splint for the rest of my life.
• Multiple broken teeth from the hits and my jaw being out of alignment. Loss of tooth size due to jaw misalignment.
• Nerve damage in left elbow, neck, shoulders and back causing loss of feeling in both arms and loss of dexterity
• Emotional, mental and physical stress led to severe periods resulting in a partial hysterectomy
• PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder)

Neurological Injuries:

I sustained the most damage in the left frontal lobe of the brain. The left frontal lobe controls; personality, behavior, emotion, judgment, planning, problem solving, intelligence, concentration, self awareness, motor function, spontaneity, memory, initiation, impulse control, social/sexual behavior, speech and writing, comprehension, arithmetic and language related movement.

• Left frontal lobe damage diagnosed as MTBI (Mild Traumatic Brain Injury). This alone affects a large amount of function.
• Chronic headaches due to physical and neurological injury
• Partial On Set seizures
• Increased risk for dementia and Alzheimer's
• Decreased fine motor skills
• Loss of strength in the arms, hands and fingers
• Chronic fatigue
• Decreased loss of cognitive functions
• Hypersensitivity to loud noises, bright lights, scents and interaction with large amounts of people

It was a little over a month after the beating that I was able to see a Neurologist. During the initial examination of my neck and shoulders, the doctor was in awe that I could even move my head. I shouldn't have been able to. The swelling was so severe in my brain, neck and shoulders that it took us until the middle of July to get the swelling down enough that I could be released for physical therapy. There are many mornings (most) that I wake up between feelings of shooting pain and complete numbness from the base of my head through the middle of my back and all the way to my finger tips. I live in pain. Accepting the fact that I am no longer the same person I was prior to the brain injury is the most difficult. Everything about me is different. My entire lifestyle, the type of work I am used to and the way that I work, my physical capabilities, my mental capabilities, etc. Everything is different now. The loss that I have endured mentally, emotionally, physically and neurologically is just the tip of the iceberg of what I have lost in total. As a result of this event, I have also lost my house, my business, my confidence, my sense of worth......

The list goes on. This post my seem depressing, but there are things that I have gained as well. You will come to know in future posts that there are things I have gained but for now, I need to focus on acceptance of the loss....

I hope that you will stay with me.

"Every New Beginning Comes From Some Other Beginning's End." - Seneca

I have spent a great deal of time on  introspection and reflection and have come to realize that everything that we do, every reason for our choices, our behavior, our accomplishments and our mistakes had to begin somewhere. I started to look back on all the significant, intimate relationships in my life and noticed a pattern. They were all abusive in some way, shape or form. Emotionally. Mentally. Physically. Where was it that I learned that this was acceptable behavior?

Have you ever had one of those moments where you were being hounded by the same question, in different forms, coming from multiple people? You end up hearing comments that seem relentless, then you get frustrated and in your head you blurt out some random, sarcastic answer (usually out of anger) and it dawns on you...ah ha! This is exactly what happened after hearing the same thing over and over. "How do you end up getting with these men?"

In less than a week's time, I heard that question multiple times. There were comments made like: "You've never had the best luck with men." "You don't exactly have the best track record with men." "Why is it everyone you've ever been with seems to love you in the beginning, then want to kill you?" 

The last of the comments came from my father who, on that particular day had managed to spike my blood pressure a few points, and in my head I yelled "YOU DID! YOU TAUGHT ME THAT AN EMOTIONALLY ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP WAS ACCEPTABLE!" The proverbial "light bulb" went off and left me with the inter-cranial quandary, "Why did that pop into my head and why did it feel dead on?" Because it was.

Please, don't get me wrong, I love my father. My father is a Vietnam Veteran. The soldiers that returned from Vietnam were the first to exhibit documented behaviors, such as personality changes, sleep disorders, severe mood swings, increased suicide post war etc. The Medical community finally put a diagnosis to these behaviors as "PTSD" Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I don't mean to seem insensitive, but no shit! I don't believe that Vietnam era veterans were the only soldiers to suffer from this, but you have to consider the generations before them. No one talked about ANYTHING! You were a soldier. You were trained to kill. You killed. It was your job. End of story. For most, that story never ends.

The military teaches you that emotions will get you killed. What it doesn't teach is that just like everything else; emotions have a time and place. They instill in you a fear of becoming emotionally attached to anyone because the enemy will use that person to control you. To some extent, I think my father feared showing any emotion towards us, especially in public, because he feared that we would be endangered as a vehicle to eliminate him. With the emergence of Guerrilla warfare in Vietnam and the fact that our troops, very well were hunted, I can see where that was a rational fear. The other side of PTSD that you don't see is the long term effects it has on families and children.

As a child growing up in the mid-70's, early 80's, I was already an outcast. I was the daughter of a soldier which meant that there was a great deal of family oriented, school functions that my father was not available to attend. This was frowned upon for some reason, probably because the Vietnam War was the most unpopular in American History. There was no support for the war and soldiers were ridiculed and spat upon when they returned. I am also part of the first generation in which having two incomes was essential to survive economical decline. Divorce was becoming more prominent and was seen as a failure (especially on the part of the wife) and if you were Roman Catholic you were ostracized from the church. I was a "latchkey kid". Mostly, the emotional abuse from my father was emotional unavailability. 

I remember most of my years as a child being more like what I imagined boot camp was for my dad. You had a routine, strict schedule, heavy discipline but what I remember the most was the way he talked to my mom and to us. It was as if the more that he criticized, the more he yelled, the more he pointed out your flaws, the more it would encourage you to do better? In reality, the only thing it accomplished was feelings of never being good enough and never being worthy.  I spent my whole life trying to make him happy, wanting him to be proud of me, not wanting to step out of line and disappoint him, or my mother, or anyone.

Sigmund Freud was correct when he said that a woman will look for a mate who resembles her father and a man will look for a woman who resembles his mother. The most formative years for a child where they learn all their foundations are between 2 and 6 years of age. Even though they do not comprehend what they are learning, that is where their foundations for adulthood begin. I know that my father did not have intentions of creating this world for us, nor can I blame him for the fault of his parents, but this is where the abuse started.

I am also part of one of the last generations that society ingrained in our heads that as women, we would only be accepted if we found an acceptable provider (husband), had children, maintained a household AND were the first to be expected to have an education as well as maintain a job to help provide. At this time, the man's responsibilities didn't change much. Men weren't "stay at home moms"; they didn't cook, clean or help take care of the children. Their only responsibility was to bring home the larger paycheck and maintain the home repairs, vehicles, yard maintenance, etc. It's no wonder why the next diagnosis was "postpartum depression." (Just a side note, when I cannot explain why I am depressed, I always say I am still suffering postpartum from when I was born, lol.)

I am not blaming my father, or my parents for any of my life choices, nor their consequences. There is no blame to be had. We live in a world where unfortunately, we are "brainwashed" into some sort of ideal existence that is seemingly all part of a larger agenda that none of us had a hand in writing. We are of a higher species primarily because of our ability to communicate, but have been told to sit down and shut up most of our lives. How is this conducive to growth? In all honesty, one of the main reasons that my last relationship turned physically violent is because I refused to sit down and shut up. I stood up for myself. I stood my ground. My brute honesty is one of my greatest advantages and my biggest flaw. I call things like I see them. I am neither critical nor judgmental, but if you truly don't want the answer, I am not the person to ask.

While it seems quite simple, and is terribly over used...."Why can't we just all get along?" I was raised Roman Catholic and while I no longer follow an organized religion, there is one thing that holds true and I still believe in....

"Treat Others as You Would Be Treated."

Introduction

As I sit here staring at this blank screen, I can't help but ponder what I am assuming are the questions that cross every first-time blogger's mind. Who will read this? Can I be successful simply telling my story? Will my story catch the attention of others who can relate? What are my goals by starting this outpouring of experience and emotion? The goal??? That is actually the easy part.

I hope to capture the attention of anyone who has shared experiences as mine. I hope to be able to give and receive support, to educate myself and share with others what I am learning. I hope to inspire and be inspired and to let others just like me know that YOU ARE NOT ALONE! 

I am realizing for the first time in my life how incredibly essential it is to have a support system. A support system you can count on, lean on, confide in. One that will not judge, will not criticize and most importantly will not constantly tell you "everything will be okay," when that can be the most condescending and irritating thing to hear when you are experiencing hopelessness.

So...what is it that lead me here, you ask? How I got to this point is so simple that it's complicated. Where do I go from here? How do I get there and where is there? Are the questions I face now.

Just like every other relationship, it started simply, without warning. It was no whirlwind affair full of feelings of euphoria or being swept off one's feet, it was just a simple meeting of a man and woman who talked a great deal, had a lot in common and eventually turned into "love". "Love". I use that term loosely here because this entire experience has completely redefined "love" for me. 

If you are unaware of what a Narcissist is, a Narcissist is:
"a person who is overly self-involved, and often vain and selfish." Psychoanalysis: "a person who suffers from narcissism, deriving erotic gratification from admiration of his or her own physical or mental attributes." http://www.dictionary.com/browse/narcissist

You will become very aware of this type of person throughout this work. This person takes selfishness and self-centered tendencies to extremes. The most disturbing thing is that they are professional con-artists that YOU WILL NEVER SEE COMING! "Silver tongued foxes." They are coy and charming and are proficient at knowing everything that you want and need to hear, and they will have the perfect words for you every single time. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME! You will quickly fall into that "this is too good to be true" train of thought, and you will quickly find out you were right. If you ever got to watch the show Burn Notice on USA, my favorite quote from Fiona (a skilled assassin) is "If it seems 'too good to be true,' it probably is. Shoot it twice!" If only I had received that piece of advice before I got involved in this relationship, I may have thought twice.

I doubt at this point that I need to go much further into the details and I am sure you can see where this is headed. More stories will follow, but in short; it started out nice and pretty "normal," according to society's standards, and resulted in several years of emotional, mental and verbal abuse and eventually escalated into physical abuse. The very last beating that I endured resulted in severe emotional, mental, physical trauma and a Mild Traumatic Brain Injury, which is what landed me here today.

I must disclose that this blog will be brutally honest, emotional and there will most likely be foul language or the insinuation of foul language. There are just some things that you cannot express fully without the use of foul language. If you are faint of heart, you will be offended. I do not intend to offend anyone, this is an account of actual events that have changed everything about my life. My beliefs, my relationships, who I was, who I am and learning to accept the fact that I am no longer the person I once was. I hope that whomever comes across this and takes the time to read it will do so without judgement. This is my life and I am sure that there are people out there that have lived the same thing.

As I share the details of my world, I hope you will have the courage and willingness to share yours. Please share and become a part of my support team as I help support you....

Welcome to my world......