by Band Back Together | Sep 30, 2010 | Child Abuse, Coping With Domestic Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Economic Abuse, Emotional Boundaries, Infidelity, Psychological Manipulation, Trust |
Once upon a time I could forgive anyone of anything.
Hell, I forgave my first husband when he tried to kill our then five month old (after he’d completed his jail time, and I’d received counseling).
My best friend had sex with my boyfriend? Everyone makes mistakes right?
My sister drained my bank account. Well, these things happen.
But I don’t want to have to forgive you.
I lived through two years of our relationship and all of the bad things that it caused me.
You left me countless times. I begged you to stay. You finally came home and asked me to marry you. I said yes. If I’d known about her then, I would have run over your foot in the driveway as I left.
We got married. I didn’t tell anyone, because no one but me seemed to understand that you HAD changed. No one supported this relationship. My own mother didn’t even find out until a few months later.
Eleven days after we got married, you went back across the country to her. You said things were too hard here. What you meant was that I wanted you to work because it wasn’t fair that I had two jobs. She could support you (or rather her daddy could). You could drink and smoke pot all night with her. I expect you to be clean and sober. Yeah, I guess I could see how that would be hard for you.
While you were gone, I lost the house. My mom took the kids back to her house because I couldn’t work 70 + hours a week and still remember how to make lunches in the morning. I cried every minute of every day, and organized a way to kill myself.
Then you called me and said that you missed me and wanted to come home. So I dropped the $350 to fly you back from Seattle. We decided to make a go of it and told the kids that you were home and everything was fine.
And everything was fine. I’d started opening my heart again, believing that you were honest with me and that you loved me and things would work out.
Until she e-mailed me… She’s pregnant. It’s yours. Your first biological child is due on my birthday. How sweet. You told me that you used protection with her. You said it was safe, that she was on the pill. You SWORE to me that she was out of our lives FOREVER. And now I find out that I have to deal with her and her spawn for the rest of my life?
You say I’m supposed to be the bigger person? How do I explain to my kids that their “dad” has a kid from another woman. Who will be born the month before our first wedding anniversary? How do I tell my son that it’s NOT okay for a man to treat a woman this way? How do I show my daughters that this is NOT what a good relationship is?
Oh that’s right… By being the bigger person and forgiving you.
Silly me, how could I forget?
by Band Back Together | Sep 29, 2010 | Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Helping Someone In An Abusive Relationship, Psychological Manipulation |
You used to clean up nicely. Later, I would be lucky if the t-shirt you threw on wasn’t slept on by a cat.
I hated when you would call me “baby” or “sweetheart.” It always seemed like such a default.
When I realized I was late calling you, I’d start agonizing over what you would say to me this time.
There are times I want to kick myself in the ass for ever getting lonely enough to talk to you that first night.
I tried to love you. I really did.
There just wasn’t anything there.
When I realized that I didn’t have any photos of the two of us together, relief was the resounding feeling.
I expected everyone to say “I told you so.” They didn’t. But they did listen. Endlessly. Thank you.
Every fight, I was waiting, wondering when that first punch was going to be.
Wondering if the punch would ever come was worse than if you would have just gone ahead and hit me.
I cowed down to you for reasons that I haven’t been able to figure out yet.
I stood up to you for reasons I never should have lost in the first place.
Late night, injured, hysterical, drunk phone calls? No.
Stalking my every move that you can find? No.
Just because I left before your fist finally got sick of hitting everything/everyone else, doesn’t mean it wasn’t abuse.
You made me ask for money that you offered me. Promised me. Money that I did not ask for. That I did not want. That I would not have needed if not for you.
Looking back now, a tent on the corner of the street would have been preferable.
You took my friends.
You took my ideas.
You tried to take my identity.
Lucky for me, I’m a stubborn bitch.
You said things, did things, made up things (and continue to do so) that I refuse to waste any more thought or time on.
I walked away from them.
I walked away from you.
With a limp and a smile.
The only time you’re happy is when you’re the superior in the relationship. When you can make the other person feel inadequate.
Regardless of what you think, there was/is absolutely nothing I want to learn from you.
It’s taken me close to a year to get even marginally back to the person I was before I got tangled up in the mess that is you.
I finally see what I’m capable of.
That thread between us? The one and only thing we share? I’m making it my life’s goal that she is never made to feel like or to think that she is nothing. Minuscule. Worthless if not by someone’s side, obedient like a pet.
She will be better than you.
Better than me.
I am making sure that she will never be in the position that I was in with you.
Ever.
by Band Back Together | Sep 23, 2010 | Abuse, Addiction, Alcohol Addiction, Coping With Domestic Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Helping Someone In An Abusive Relationship, Psychological Manipulation |
Dear Girlfriend #3,
I wish I could give you this warning in person, but I know that you would confront your new boyfriend about it. And if he found out that I warned you, I wouldn’t be here at all…
That being said, there are some things you need to know.
Your new boyfriend is abusive. He will not show you that now. I didn’t see it until about three months into our relationship. I am sure he has told you about his ex-wife and I. How we are “crazy” and “evil.” I’m sure he has told you how badly we have fucked up his life and broke his heart.
Please take this opportunity to look him up online, in every capacity you can conceive.
He has had two restraining orders filed on him. He is registered as a batterer at four different domestic violence shelters in this state – those are just the ones I am aware of.
I had to move a state away to hide from him.
He is charming and he is handsome. He will make promises that he will never keep. His family enables his abusive behavior and will never turn on him if you say something. They have, and will continue to, sit idly by while he hurts you.
Stay away from him when he is drunk as that is when he is the worst. He will humiliate you, degrade you, and do whatever he feels is appropriate while he is inebriated.
I’m sorry I can’t tell you this directly. I wish there was more I could do without risking my own personal safety.
Watch for the red flags. The weird text messages, the unusual possessiveness and questions about your friends and whereabouts. Question his previous relationships and what happened. Try and talk to his exes.
See what you find out.
We’re on the same team, you know. Womankind and all of that. It took me years to get out and it will take me years to heal. You don’t deserve that.
Nobody does.
Sincerely,
Girlfriend #2
by Band Back Together | Sep 23, 2010 | Coping With Domestic Abuse, Divorce, Domestic Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Psychological Manipulation |
October 15, 1999. That was the day my life changed. At the time, I thought it was for the better. Eleven years later, I know it was the beginning of a slow, painful, downward spiral.
That was the day I started dating the “man of my dreams.” He was tall and handsome and the captain of the football team. As a high school sophomore, he was everything a girl could ask for in a boyfriend.
The first 2 years were great. We went to sporting events and parties. We were the stereotypical high school sweethearts. Our senior year we split up. The breakup didn’t last long. Soon he was begging me to come back and I did. He went off to college in a different state, but we still tried to make it work.
Over the next 4 years we broke up and made up quite a bit. I told myself this was due to the college lifestyle. I tried to convince myself that girls flocked to him because he was a college football player. Those excuses I made would lead me into years of hiding my misery with excuses.
In February 2006 he proposed. It was probably the worst proposal imaginable. I was in bed, covered in hives from an allergic reaction. He sat on the end of the bed, handed me a box and said, “You’re gonna be my wife”. Now that I look back on it, it completely lacked any romance and was more of a command than a proposal.
In June 2006, he graduated, moved back home and I started planing the wedding. These plans were short lived because shortly after his return we split up again. He could not put the college life behind him and would stay out all night to party. Once again we made up and on February 18, 2007, we were married.
There was no “honeymoon” period. We started having problems the first week of our marriage. We argued constantly. He lived a completely separate life from me. But, I was expected to be home at all times.
After the first year, the relationship came crashing down pretty quickly. He had been caught numerous times “talking” to other women. He started to control my life completely. He decided who I could be friends with, when I could go out and where I could go. He would degrade me and soon my self esteem was so low that I started to question everything about myself.
It wasn’t until I met up with an old friend and started discussing the situation that I realized it was emotional abuse. He was manipulating everything in my life for one sole purpose – to control me! I decided to put my foot down, to take a stand and hold my ground. This only helped to confirm that abuse I had been tolerating for so long.
During one fight in May 2009, I told him I was done listening to him and that I was going to leave. He took my car keys and cell phone. I told him I would walk to my mother’s house, which was right around the corner. He stood in front of the stairs and blocked me from leaving. He called 911 and told the operator that his wife was overdosing and to send an ambulance. I was in shock. What was happening?
When the police arrived, he refused to answer the door. When I answered and spoke to the cop he said “you don’t look like you’re overdosing.” I told him I most definitely was not. The cop called the dispatcher and canceled the ambulance. After the cops left, I asked him why he did that. His response sickened me. He said “I just thought it would be funny to see them pump your stomach.” At this very moment, I realized what a sick and dysfunctional person he was.
All this time I had been blind. I made excuses to hide my pain. Somewhere deep inside me, he was still the captain of the football team, the man of my dreams. I didn’t let myself see the selfishness, deception, and manipulation. I made excuses over and over. Not for him but for me. I tried to convince myself he was someone else. The man of my dreams.
On June 23, 2009, he moved out and filed for divorce. He had lost his control and he couldn’t accept it. He did not want a relationship with someone who could stand up for herself.
For years I have thought to myself, ”Why can’t I have a do-over?” Why can’t I go back to the first break-up and never look back. Well, this past year has not been easy. It has been the hardest time of my life. Through all the court and lawyers and chaos he still tries to control me. He tries to have the upper hand and make all of the agreements. Everything is a battle. But this time I am holding my ground and standing up for myself!
I am proud to say that I have my “do-over”. I am dating my best friend and everyday he shows me what a real man, a real relationship, is like. He amazes me with his support and understanding. He builds up my confidence instead of tearing it down. After years of living in the dark and not knowing myself, my eyes have been opened and it is my time to shine!
by Band Back Together | Sep 19, 2010 | Abuse, Adult Children of Mentally Ill Parents, Child Abuse, Coping With Domestic Abuse, Divorce, Domestic Abuse, Mental Health, Psychological Manipulation |
She left him this morning while he was at church. My brother drove five hours to come and take her to stay with his family. After seven years, she finally got up the courage and bailed. I have never been more proud of her than I am in this moment.
She left the abuse, the control, the hate, the mind games. She left the drugs, the crime, the lies and the stealing. She left him for going through her things and screaming at her every day. She left him for punching her in her sleep when she snored. She left him for telling her when she could or couldn’t eat or leave the house or come visit me and her granddaughter. She just… left.
She left.
History has a way of repeating itself, especially when it comes to relationships. And her history has been on repeat since 1970. Every man she has ever been with has treated her like the scum of the earth: my dad, her boyfriend of 10 years (after divorcing my dad), and now him. I would be lying if I said I thought none of this was her fault because she chose this. She has continually chosen this, but that doesn’t mean she deserves it. Nobody deserves this.
Her bouts with mental illness have plagued her for most of her adult life. It’s like the men she chooses know that she is weak. They prey upon those who seem to “need some help.”
My mother has been homeless on the streets, homeless in shelters, fed by soup kitchens, and by the kindness of strangers. She’s been in and out of mental hospitals and failed relationships more times than I can remember. She has been raped, assaulted, kidnapped and abandoned on the side of the road in her underwear in a blizzard. And through all of that, she lived. She lived through it.
But today? She finally ended it on her own. She didn’t wait to be kicked out or told that he was done with her. She didn’t wait to end up in a hospital or shelter or on the side of the road… or worse. She left on her own, by her own free will. She didn’t wait until she was no longer strong enough to go.
I always used to tell her the analogy of the frog in the pot: If you throw a frog into pot of boiling water, he will instinctively know that the water is too hot and leap out. But if you put a frog in a pot of cool water, and gradually increase the temperature, he won’t notice that things aren’t right, and will let you boil him alive and kill him. She was that frog. The one who started out in a relationship being wined and dined and showered with gifts. But soon those things started to go away, and slowly the little jabs at her self-esteem became major blows, both mentally and physically. She didn’t notice… or maybe she did but soon nothing became shocking; nothing “burned” her.
I asked her this morning what finally made her snap. She said she heard them talking outside her door when they thought she was asleep plotting how they would “off her.” Whether it’s the illness talking, or the truth, I will never know. And it does not matter.
She left.
She is free.
I am so proud of you, Mom.
by Band Back Together | Sep 14, 2010 | Coping With Domestic Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Emotional Abuse, How To Help With Low Self-Esteem, Infidelity, Psychological Manipulation, Self Loathing, Self-Esteem, September 11, 2001 |
I dated a man that was prettier then I was, and he took it upon himself to tell me everyday for three years. He also enjoyed telling me nobody else wanted me, that I was lucky to find him (as if he was doing charity work for dating me), and that I would be alone in life forever if I did not stay by his side with my mouth shut for the rest of my life.
I felt smaller then the tiniest grain of dirt. My self-esteem and self-worth out the window. I was worthless without him. He signified my worth and my inner bank balance was $0.
When I cooked him homemade meals to prove I would make an excellent wife, he scraped half of my portion off telling me I was too fat. Who could ever imagine a size 0 being too fat? When he came home from Rome (where he is from) telling me on New Years they kiss their friends on the lips (I found a photo of him kissing a friend), I believed him (really Aimee, frenchkissing?). When he went to school in Milan for 6 months and I paid all of his bills in the U.S.A, and made all of his phone calls, and held down the fort, I trusted he was doing right by me. When I found proof of his lying, snake ways, he talked himself out of it and made me believe I was making it up in my head. I was the crazy one.
This is abuse. Abuse people never speak of, or think does “real damage”. Verbal abuse certainly does damage, and a lot of it.
We broke up on 9/10/01, just a day before the attacks on 9/11/01. I had just moved to Boston to try and regain some self strength, and he just started a new job at the World Trade Center. When the postman at my new job told me the news I freaked out. I frantically called him for hours, and I began to think the worst. He did call hours later telling me he was alright. He ran out as bodies fell from the tower windows, and jumped over body parts, office supplies, and the pavement soaked in jet fuel. He ran 8 miles as fast as he could without stopping because he thought he would lose his life if he hadn’t. Sadly so many made it out of the building that day, but stayed to “watch” and didn’t make it any further.
In our relief, we rekindled our relationship. I had high hopes this moment had changed him – that since God had let him live and gave him a second shot at it, he would find it within himself to be a better man.
I stood beside him a week later at Ground Zero holding his hand. We wept. The heavy smell of death encircled us and permeating all of our being. The city was in silence. All you could hear were machines cutting steel trying to find bodies. The hospital close by had a wall of “missing” posters filled with people that were now part of the largest burial ground in American history. He wondered why he survived and why they didn’t.
We broke up a year later when he told me about his girlfriend in Italy and the prostitutes he had slept with. I cut all ties and moved on with my life. A few years ago I got an odd e-mail from his new girlfriend asking me questions in broken English. He wrote me and said, and I quote, “If you ever cared about me and 9/11 you won’t tell her anything”.
Yes, he was trying to use 9/11 to shut me up. A day that he should have gained perspective and feel blessed, he was using to hide behind as a last attempt shield to not let his new girlfriend find out about his cheating, abusive ways. I was disgusted, and copy and pasted his e-mail and sent it right to her. I also told her every little bit I could about my past with him.
How could he go on to take this day as “his”? How can he accept emails today that say “thinking of you” or “this day must be so hard for you” and still go on unscathed. Why must I remember such an asshole who didn’t really deserve a second chance over so many good hearted people that died that day. Why did I accept his abuse for so long, and let him be all of who I am? And why must such a significant day always be about him?
I am pissed. He doesn’t deserve the day.
He once asked if I would light a candle in honor of him every year on this day for the rest of my life. I will do one better for you babe–I’ll light up a finger in the air, and you can see it all the way to Rome. Plus I will eat an entire plate of pasta in my size 14 jeans, and sit on the floor and eat up the love I have with my family. My family I created with a wonderful, loving, non-abusive man, that believes I am wonderful just the way I am.
I will always mourn that day, the people who lost their lives, and will never forget seeing and feeling the aftermath. I will always grieve for NYC, a place that will always have my heart and that will never be the same.
And for that…. I will never forget. For that, and only that, I will light a candle.
