by Band Back Together | May 5, 2016 | Anger, Anxiety, Date/Acquaintance Rape, Divorce, Guilt, Infidelity |
He was my friend, a coworker I trusted.
I have a boyfriend and kids.
Why was I at his house?
Why did I let him pay attention to me at all?
I shouldn’t have been there. It was my fault. I led him on, let him believe that I liked him.
Maybe I did. Maybe I did enjoy the rush of having a man fawn over me like I was something special. I’ve never been treated that way before.
My ex-husband cheated on me and replaced me without looking back. He filed for divorce on our seventh wedding anniversary, saying our marriage “didn’t mean anything anymore.”
And I guess it didn’t. Not to him.
I was tossed aside like trash.
My current boyfriend of 4 years lets me in, then pushes me away. It’s a constant cycle, a roller-coaster of emotions.
Finally, on December 4, 2015, I gave up fighting for him.
I accepted the offer from this man, my friend, my confidant at work. He was nearly 20 years older and told me repeatedly how beautiful I was. He fed my bruised ego. I let him. I went to his house, and I stood in his kitchen, crying about the man I loved who had pushed me away again.
He walked behind me and pushed himself against me, trapping me against the counter. He pushed his hand down my pants, and I said, “NO!” I went to get my shoes and purse. He pushed me down and pulled my pants and underwear down.
He forced himself inside of me.
I said, “NO!” I pushed him off of me and he grabbed my head and pushed his dick in my mouth. I nearly vomited and jerked myself away.
I SAID NO!
I ran to the bathroom and locked the door.
I got out of the house and tried to block the memory out – until I saw him at work the following week. He told me that he thought I would be more “accommodating.”
I didn’t call it rape. I felt guilty and full of shame. After all, I went there. I led him on. I “had sex” with him. Sometimes the logical side kicks in and says, no. You didn’t do anything wrong.
It’s not your fault. You didn’t “have sex.”
He raped you.
He stole something from you.
Until that day, I’d only had sex with two men, my husband and my boyfriend. I was a 35 year old woman who trusted someone. I hid my feelings and apologized for my actions.
I didn’t go to the police right away. It took over a month. The only thing that gave me the courage was to look at my little girls.
How could I possibly teach them that no means no? I said no. It didn’t matter. And now I have to learn to live with it.
I’m scared all the time.
by Band Back Together | Apr 21, 2016 | Alcohol Addiction, Divorce, Emotional Abuse, Fear |
I’ve not posted for a long time. Three-and-half-years, if I remember correctly.
I’m sorry about that.
I’ve learned a lot about myself and my life in that time.
I learned I had been married to an alcoholic. I learned that I was allowing myself and my children to be verbally abused. I learned that I couldn’t be strong enough to fix things.
This is hard.
As of the first of this year, I’ve been a single dad. Most days. Some days, the kids are with her. But most of the time, it’s just me. That’s not the hard part. I mean, that’s not easy, but we are managing.
The hard part is dealing with the fear. When I see her, my heart starts racing – I go into flight or fight mode, mostly flight. Technically, I still need to let her in the house, the divorce isn’t final yet, but my stomach churns while she’s there.
When I can’t get the kids on the phone, my mind goes dark places. On the drive into work, my imagination plays out worst case scenarios.
Every day is a little bit better – except for when they are worse. Logically, I know I made the right decisions, and I’m going down the right road, but emotionally, I have so much doubt built up.
I considered making this post anonymous, but this post is not about her. It’s about me. I’m scared. I doubt. I get tired. I make mistakes. But I’m still going.
And I know it’s going to get better….
….even if I can’t quite bring myself to believe that yet.
By-DavidWendt
by Band Back Together | Apr 12, 2016 | Abuse, Anger, Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Divorce, Parenting, Special Needs Parenting |
Today I contemplate everything I thought I knew.
- I have three amazing kids
- My husband is my best friend
- He will always have my back
- When I’m struggling he will be the rock I can depend on
It’s funny how circumstances in life change and put things in perspective. It was just 7 short years ago that I went through a truly nasty divorce from a truly abusive person. Something that seemed impossible to overcome. But I did and I came out stronger then ever. Through that I had my rock, my best friend and now my husband. But, I guess happiness is all relative to the situations at hand.
I have three children. Two from my first marriage and one from my second. They are all great kids. Each has their strengths and, like every other human, they have their weaknesses. My daughter she is incredibly smart and athletic but she is extremely over dramatic and some what self centered. My youngest son is the sweetest thing you will every meet and hilariously funny but we have had struggles with some medical problems with him. Recently we found out he isn’t being defiant about using the potty but is instead struggling with an issues that doesn’t allow him to have control over it. Imagine how guilty I felt after yelling for a year about the accidents. Then, there’s my middle son, part of the reason I’m really here. He so incredibly affectionate, he craves attention and seeks approval. But, we just found out he has ADHD. Which now makes the issues in school, the tempter tantrums, the lack of impulse control all make sense. Again, imagine my guilt when I realized he’s not trying to drive Mommy crazy today, he just can’t control some of these things.
So, I need to change. I have to learn to be the support system he needs to deal with the issues in front of him and those he will face in the future. I need to understand he may not do things or react to things the same way his siblings do. I need to accept that it is OK to handle things differently with each child because people are different and we all need different things in life. All of this I can accept. I can adjust and move forward with my children’s best interests in mind. But, what about everyone else.
My mother, who I personally think struggles with her own un-diagnosed disorder. It’s like her and my son fuel each others anger. Other parents who may not understand that he isn’t a “bad” kid. Other kids who won’t understand why he reacts to things the way he does. But, what about my husband, the rock that is supposed to be there for me. What do I do when he doesn’t get it. I think that’s the hardest part.
I know what I need to do and it my choice to take steps to do it. I choose to put my children first and do everything in my power to help them. But, I can’t make someone else’s choice for them. Today I feel like I have a new choice, my husband or my child. But, that is no choice. My husband is a grown man who should have the capacity to act like an adult and my child is, well, a child who needs his mom.
My son had a bad day yesterday. He was as his grandparents to eat dinner with them and was lashing out and very argumentative. My husband went to get him and bring him home. As soon as they walked in my husband was yelling. I don’t know what happened but I couldn’t have asked if I wanted to over the yelling. So I raised my voice and yell that’s enough. Next thing I know dinner is thrown across the floor and my husband storms out of the house and slams the door. I call him and the only response I get is don’t call me. I send him a message about how we need to handle things differently and yelling is not the answer because it only make him more angry and agitated. I explain ADHD is a neurological disorder not just a kid who doesn’t feel like listening today. And, the reply back is “if this behavior is going to be tolerated I can’t be with you I need a DIVORCE because I can’t do this anymore. I wont tolerate disrespect from you or him.” My first thought, who is this person??? My second thought, there’s the fucking door we don’t need you.
This is my best friend, my rock, my support system and here I stand feeling abandoned. He didn’t come home last night. And I feel like I should care, but I don’t. I am angry and hurt and disappointed. I have a child that needs me. I don’t have time to waste on an adult who wants to act like a child.
I think when is comes to wives he doesn’t have it so bad. I will be honest I am not a great cook. I barely cook at all and I’m not a huge fan of house work. But, I go to work every day. Up until recently, I was supporting the family financially. I don’t nag him about money. I don’t really fight with him about anything. I personally think we have a good sex life. Things have been good, for me at least. And then this. The line that keeps playing in my head, I won’t tolerate your disrespect. Me? The wife who supported you through job after job. The one who stood by your side through all the struggles the past 2 years without arguing or nagging or resenting you. Disrespect? For standing up for my child? This is where we throw out divorce? What response is he expecting from that? Am I supposed to be a Stepford Wife. A “a servile, compliant, submissive, spineless wife who happily does her husband’s bidding and serves his every whim dutifully.” If that’s the expectation then he lives in a fantasy world.
Everything I have been through in life has made me stronger. Maybe it was preparing me for this. For the challenge I was going to have to face alone without the support of those who I thought would always be there for me.
All I know is right now I need to put on my cape and play Supermom as best I can. Will I fail? Most definitely. I’m human, but I need to be the adult and try my best everyday to do everything in my power to give my children everything they need. Everyone else can either get on board or get out of my way.
by Band Back Together | Feb 18, 2016 | Anxiety, Cancer and Neoplasia, Childhood Bullying, Divorce, Shame, Suicide, Teen Bullying, Trauma |
I’ve felt what it feels like to feel alone. I’ve felt what it feels like to feel unwanted. I’ve felt the pain of being judged. All thanks to you.
It all started in the beginning of seventh grade. I met this boy, in which at the time, was your boyfriend. You befriended me only to keep an “eye” on me. You told me, “You’re like my best friend”. You lied, repeatedly, all because of this one boy. I still remember the day when your friends texted me and told me to “back off” because you thought he was losing interest in you because of me. That’s when it began, when he “broke” your heart. I don’t know if I would’ve made it out alive, you tormented me to a point of disgust.
Everyday, you’d pass by only to call me names. You’ve called me absolutely everything one could think of. Ranging from a “slut”, to a “cry baby”. You wrote my name on walls and desks, commenting on how much of a “whore” I was. I hadn’t even had my first kiss yet. But you still kept on. Your parents supported you, babied you, all because they had no idea of who you really were, and still are. I was only 12, turning 13, but you kept consistent with your words. Only 12, and I was already thinking about suicide.
You made rumors, and pressed charges against the very person that you once “loved”. This remained until the end of eight grade. At this point, I was losing. I was losing myself, I was losing my aunt, and I was losing my parents. I cried in school because my aunt was dying from cancer, but you thought it was because of your words. That’s why I was a “cry baby”, to you. I still recall the day I messaged you on Facebook, and apologized, the same day she died. As if it was all my fault. My parents were getting a divorce, and you just kept on. Having no respect for anyone but yourself because you believe you’re the only one who deserves it. That’s a bully, that’s who you are.
The bullying subsided for about a year. We were “friends”, at least that’s what I believed. You asked for answers on the test, you asked me for help with your work. You pretended. It all started again in tenth grade, you came up to me about midway in the school year. Telling me to “keep my nose out of your business”. I was so confused, I don’t talk to any of her friends exactly for that reason. I’d never respect her, but I’d also never what to be part of her dramatic life. I was extremely unaware of what the situation was. I couldn’t stop shaking. That’s when I realized that I didn’t hate you, but despised you. Everything you were, everything you are. You traumatized me, you made me into this person full of anxiety, full of sadness. I wasn’t gonna let you win.
The next year came, I tried my best to ignore you in every possible way. The previous year, I had dated this boy, let’s just call him “Bunny”. I told everything to him, and he told me everything. We hurt in all the same ways, but he left for the summer, and we split. He knew about you, he said he’d “never date” you for what you did. But of course, that was a lie. The only person I connected to, you stole. You made him block me, exile me out of his life, and he probably hates me. That’s why I’m here now, you pass by me in the hallways, and call me a “slut”, while he’s holding your hand. All I say is “thanks”. Thank you for making me feel. I’ve felt. In which, is past tense, in which it means I won’t anymore. I’ve felt pain. But I now feel happiness. I’ve felt insufficient, but now I feel enough. I’ve felt disgusting.. But now I feel beautiful. All because of you.
by Band Back Together | Nov 20, 2015 | Abuse, Adoption, Baby Loss, Bipolar Disorder, Divorce, Suicide |
Target.
1:30 on a Tuesday.
Buying my husband socks.
This is what I was doing when my mom called me to tell me that my older brother had taken his life.
I broke down crying in the middle of the underwear section as onlookers watched. We bought our items and drove to my sister’s workplace to tell her what had happened.
My brother was bipolar. He was in the middle of a divorce. His six month old son had died a year ago. Our father had been abusive. He didn’t like his job. He was adopted. He had been in jail several times. He had attempted to take his life several times before. All of these are risk factors, we just never thought he’d actually do it.
That day was the most painful day in my entire life. Even now as I write this, I’m welling up with tears. He was only 21 years old. He was the most brilliant person I know. He was always inventing things and had a unique way of looking at things. He could be a jerk sometimes. I mean, he was my older brother. We yelled at each other. I feel terrible saying this, but I hate it when people sugar-coat the lives of the deceased.
I had gotten married ten days before his death. He didn’t make it to my wedding because he had to appear in court. We had just gotten back from our honeymoon and were going to go spend our gift cards, thus the sock buying. I hadn’t spent much time with my brother leading up to the wedding even though he was living in the same house as me because I was so busy and I regret that. But I can’t go back and change what has been done.
by Band Back Together | Nov 18, 2015 | Abuse, Child Sexual Abuse, Divorce, Rape/Sexual Assault
When my mother was four years old, she lived in Cambodia. Her mother passed away due to the war with Khmer Rouge and the killing of poor, innocent people. My grandfather was a soldier from Vietnam who didn’t speak a word of Cambodian, yet fathered 14 kids.
Most of my mother’s brothers and sisters died during the war, but there were a few of them left. My mother, two uncles, two aunts, and my grandfather were all that remained in the family.
As time went by, my mother grew older and when she was 13 years old, she was sleeping in her room and her father came in. She didn’t think anything about it until he started pushing her down and forcing himself on her.
She screamed but no one in her family heard her cries. The next morning, she told her brothers and sisters what had happened to her, but they didn’t believe her. They asked her why would a man rape his own daughter? From that night on and for the next two years, she was raped regularly until she escaped to America to live with her brother.
Her brother was the black sheep of the family and he hated my mother.
His wife would only feed her four chicken wings and a bowl of rice a day. She had to work and give her brother the money or she would’ve been beaten. Her sister-in-law hated her so much that she made my mother wear men’s clothes to school. After so long, she forced my mother to quit school and to get a full-time job to pay more bills in the house.
After time went by, my mother met my father (who was my uncle’s best friend) and she believed that he would save her from the life she was living. She decided to marry him. Things weren’t right, but she had to get away from her brother and her evil sister-in-law.
Little did she know my father was worse then what she could have imagined.
Always yelling at her, beating her, and forcing her to have sex with him.
He made my mother give him a bath every day right before his girlfriend would come over to have sex with him in my parents room while my mother sat outside in the living room crying her eyes out.
He told her she was lucky that she was with him, that no one wants her and she was nothing.
My mother gave birth to my brother and then two years later, to me. My father loved my brother but always looked at me like I wasn’t his, and always accused my mother of cheating.
He used to call her all sort of names.
Then she had enough… she divorced him and moved out. Every time my father came over, she had a butcher knife ready for him. She was not taking it any more, and she stood her ground.
My parents went to court and the judge decided that my father should keep my brother and my mother should keep me. My father told the judge that I wasn’t his and my mother had cheated. The judge believed him and he granted his wish.
I have never seen my brother, but I saw my father when I was 16 years old. The first thing he said to me was, “You are my child, you look just like me.” Then told me that I “will not receive any money from him when he dies.”
These are the only words I really remember from my father.
