decembernight85 - Tumblr blog

[decembernight85]

[decembernight85]

[decembernight85]

[decembernight85]

My story

In 2006 I saw a man on Facebook and said “he’s going to be my next boyfriend.” I thought he was so attractive. And he professed his love for God openly, which was important to me. I had to meet him. I searched our mutual friends and decided I would ask my friend James to introduce us. “Sure, but I don’t think you will like him.”

He private messaged me and we began to chat and eventually met. We had so much fun and quickly started spending all of our time together. We decided to date exclusively.

I still remember the first time we argued. I was complaining about my weight (looking back I had nothing to be complaining about). He looked at me and said “then why don’t you do something about your weight?” I recognized that he was athletic and into fitness, but I was not. But I asked him to help me learn how to use the gym equipment. He took it a step further and told me I should consume no more than 1200 calories per day. I followed his plan and worked out as he directed. I lost weight quickly and became hypoglycemic. He would give me exercise books and workout videos for holidays.

Looking back, I now see how critical he was from the start. But I was blinded by my infatuation with this man.

After dating for three years, he proposed and we got married. Everything was going well for the first few years of our marriage. I suggested we start a family and he refused. He would make excuses like “what if our child turns out gay and I can’t love it?” He got me a labrador puppy instead. So I treated the puppy as my baby and loved her so much.

A few years into the marriage, my ex determined that he hated the dog I had prior to our marriage. He picked him up and threw him across the room. He put a shock collar on him and turned it up to he highest setting and shocked him for no reason. He tormented the dog to the point that he would hunker down and walk with his tail between his legs when my husband was home. I begged him to stop and we would fight.

Eventually the abuse turned to me. It started out as him grabbing my arms so hard that he would leave bruises. As the years went on it progressed to him slamming me in the floor, jerking me through the house by my arm, shoving me down, climbing on top of me and threatening to punch me in the face. The last incident that happened was one where he shoved me down on the stairs and spanked me for humiliation. He got on top of me and the threatened to kill me.

One time I used my foot to push him off of me. He became so angry and always talked about how our altercations were “mutual” because I kicked him.

On one occasion he had trapped me in our bedroom and criticized and belittled me to the point I couldn’t take any more. I grabbed a bottle of pills and shoved them in my mouth. I didn’t want to die, but I didn’t want to live with him. He grabbed me by the throat and choked me until I collapsed in the floor and urinated on myself.

I wish so much that the abuse had only been physical. What I learned was that the bruises only hurt for a period of time and then they faded. The emotional abuse has never faded. My weight has always been an issue for my ex, even at my skinniest. He complains that my forehead is too big, and that I have buck teeth. He told me that if I would change the way I fixed my hair, the way I dressed, the way I wear my make up, and lost some weight, I wouldn’t look so old. He would tell me to get out of “his” house, then would take my keys and phone so I couldn’t leave. He would tell his family and friends that I couldn’t manage money and if it weren’t for him the bills wouldn’t get paid. He would tell everyone that I couldn’t cook. If I cried over the things he said, his anger would grow and the situation would escalate.

After fights that turned physical he would cry. He would beg for forgiveness. He would threaten to kill himself, saying he didn’t deserve to live. I would cry and beg him to stop. I would ask HIM to forgive ME. the cycle would start all over.

During the last incident I began to feel hatred in my heart. I despised him for what he had done. I pretended to forgive him so that the incident would end. Around that same time, a old boyfriend contacted me and started paying me compliments that I so desperately wanted to hear from my husband. I started to confide in this person, and told him about my marital problems. I believed whole heartedly that these conversations were wrong. I knew that because I was keeping this friendship from my husband, that it was inappropriate.

I started going to counseling, and began to realize the cycle of abuse that I was experiencing. I asked my husband to attend counseling with me, to which he replied “I don’t need to go to counseling, you are the one with the problem.”

After praying for three months that God would change my heart, I decided that I could no longer remain in my marriage. I left and went to stay with my parents. I told my husband I want a divorce and that I was leaving because of how hypercritical he was and how abusive he had been. After we separated, my relationship with the old boyfriend became physical. I believe this was more an attempt on my part to ensure that marriage was over. My ex-husband continued to beg me to come home. I finally told him about the ex-boyfriend. He said he didn’t care, and asked me to come home so we could make things right.

I reluctantly went home for two weeks. During that time my husband demanded that we have sex multiple times a day and as that I reenact what happened with my ex boyfriend. I refused. everything felt wrong. Everything felt forced. I finally told him that it was over. He decided to leave this time. He never returned to work. He left his police cruiser in the driveway and to my embarrassment the police department had to come pick it up. After he left he continue to beg that I would change my mind. I asked him to give me time to determine what would be best for us. He refused, saying I had to make a decision now. So I proceeded with the divorce.

13 days after the divorce he was engaged to someone else. 7 weeks after the divorce he was married. Many of our friends, my church, and his family turned their back on me, believing that the reason we were getting a divorce was because I was a cheater. I refused to tell my story. This was in part because he asked me not to ruin his reputation, and I still love him so I agreed. I also was so ashamed of everything that happened so embarrassed that I had allowed this to go on for so long and I couldn’t bring myself to tell my side. I didn’t think anybody would believe me anyway because everybody loved him.

The year after the divorce was excruciating. He took the lab. I’ve never felt more confused or lost. But I kept the house. And I paid the bills. And I cooked. And I’m still learning to see myself as beautiful. And I’m still learning how to trust people. And I’m finding that there are really amazing people in this world, who never turned their back on me, and who never left my side. I’m finding myself again. Starting to love me again.

I dream that someday I can reach out to others experiencing the same pain, show them genuine support and love from someone who has lived this life, and survived.

[decembernight85]

[decembernight85]

Christians get divorced, too.

Prior to my divorce, I really can’t think of a Time that I questioned God. From the time I was 9 years old I have loved God and although I’ve made lots of mistakes, I never really had the sincere question of if he loved me.

In my experience, when you are closest to God, that is when the enemy attacks the hardest. At a time when I felt that I was on the right track, and leading others, My life fell apart.

This is where we as Christians tend to fail. At this struggle in my life, I became extremely angry. I needed guidance and I reached out to someone I respected in the church for help. Now I am assuming that since my ex-husband attempted to manipulate by telling church members inaccurate information, that some of my brothers and sisters in Christ had lost respect for me. The person I reached out to ignored me in my time of need.

When I needed the body of Christ (the church) to hold me up, some turned their back on me. It would have been so easy for me to give up my faith at this point. Because the reality was that the very fundamental beliefs I held we’re not being practiced at this crucial moment.

But God provided me with guidance and has led me back into his flock. Side note, Jesus is an amazing Shepherd and when one of his flock go astray, he seeks out that lost sheep.

Yesterday I learned that a good friend, who knew the whole truth behind my divorce had suggested that I did not honor my marriage. This is one of those times when I question what the expectation is. I don’t know how long someone is expected to stay in their marriage when they are enduring complete and total dishonor from their spouse. For 9 years I honored my marriage. For five of those years, honoring that marriage meant lying to everyone. It meant continuing a lifestyle I said I would never live. It meant continuing to allow someone to treat me in a way that was not intended for a spouse. Have I sinned? Absolutely. Have I fallen short of the glory of God? Every single day of my life. But that didn't mean that I am beyond the love of God. No one is.

Every time something like this pops up , it makes me more aware of the fact that our holiness can also be a stumbling block for others. Jesus dined with sinners. Let’s not forget that when we are quick to judge. Furthermore , let’s not forget that every person has a complex history and are going through things we cannot imagine. So if we’re going to say we will be Christ like, let’s be Christ like. Let’s not turn our back on others, regardless of what they’ve done or what we think they’ve done. That’s not what Jesus would do.

[decembernight85]

Do you see that light in the kitchen? The bright one? Well, that is a small victory for me my friend. The ceilings are high and my chairs we're not tall enough to help this 5'2" gal reach them. Called my brother crying. How in the world am I supposed to reach that light to change the bulb? Something you don't think about until you are truly alone. But God provided, as always. Last week I got a new set of chairs for my table. I realized today that they are much taller then the previous chairs were. I climbed up there shaking and put those bulbs where they belong. This may sound like the dumbest story of all time, but I never in a million years expected to be all alone in the dark.

[decembernight85]

Ignorance is bliss

One of the most painful parts of divorce is the realization that all the energy, work, and love was for nothing. 13 days after my divorce my ex was engaged. 7 weeks after the divorce, he was married. Just weeks before the divorce, he was using every tactic he could muster to make me feel horrible and guilty for ending our marriage. He made me question my own sanity, if the abuse was really bad enough to throw an 11 year relationship away. Through all of the hurt that comes along with the end of a marriage: lonliness, loss of friends and family, financial strain, nights of no sleep; nothing hurts more than gaining the knowledge that you meant nothing to the person to whom you gave your all. The emotional and physical abuse in my marriage did not hurt as much as this realization. They say ignorance is bliss, and I believe that. The other side of this coin is the fact that the abuser gets to move forward without a care in the world. The world keeps spinning, and everyone else's life continues. As much as I try to keep going, the literal pain of the hole inside me keeps me from doing so. It occurs to me that I have no trust left to give. I have no faith in situations or people. I gave everything I had to one person, and day by day he broke me down and left me in a heap of ashes. And when It was all said and done, he lit a match and threw it on me so the world could watch me burn. #divorce #survivingabuse #watchmeburn

[decembernight85]

[decembernight85]

Love never fails

This weekend has been rough. I can't get it together. I've cried and cried and can't explain the thoughts running through my head. I got married Labor Day weekend in 2009. 8 years ago, I said vows and meant every single one of them. Eight years ago, I was someone else completely. I was pure in heart. I could feel love. I believed that my marriage was a divine appointment. I cried throughout the ceremony because I was so overcome with emotion that I couldn't contain it. I chose a song called Love never fails for the ceremony. https://youtu.be/8nQy-aP_Koo It absolutely killed me to see this Bible verse after my divorce. I was so conflicted, because I believe wholeheartedly that the word of God is true. And I also believed wholeheartedly that my love failed. But when I read what the Bible says love actually looks like: 1 Corinthians 13:4 - 8; 13 (NIV) Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. . . And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.  I am now convinced that my marriage was not love at all. There was nothing patient or selfless about it. The hyper-critical behavior of my husband killed any hope I had. The times when I was shoved down on the stairs, slammed into the floor, choked, and threatened were not kind. We were not honoring God or each other with our words. Now I'm left with the question of what the 11 years I was in a relationship with this person truly was. And what does love actually feel like. Do I even have the capacity to truly love. I don't even feel like my heart is beating anymore. I don't feel like I will ever trust anyone to honor me. I don't even trust myself to honor me.

[decembernight85]

Phone and keys. Phone and keys. Phone and keys.

These are the items he would take from me when we were arguing. When things were heating up. Because he couldn’t have me call for help. And he couldn’t have me leave. One time I screamed “help!” As loud as I could in my bedroom. I was hoping that someone in my neighborhood would hear. He grabbed my face and put his hand over my mouth and pushed hard it hurt for quite a while. He said “fuck you.”

One Sunday we started arguing and I felt trapped. I made it out the door somehow. Typically he guarded the door. I felt like Forrest Gump because I just kept running. I had no phone. I thought if I could make it to the gas station down the street I could call my mom collect on the payphone. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me there. Even if he found me. That would be too risky for him. I ran about 2 miles in my church clothes and sandals and was finally picked up by a woman in a truck. She dropped me off at the gas station. There was no payphone. I’m humiliated at this point.

One of the store clerks let me use her phone to call my mom. She sent my big brother to get me. I spoke to my ex on the phone that night and he convinced me that I overreacted. He was so good at that. I hate myself for believing him for so long. So I went back. I just kept going back. And every time he would get down on his knees and wrap his arms around my legs. He would cry. He would call himself “a monster” and say he didn’t know how I could love someone like him. He would threaten to kill himself. I would cry and say I forgive him. Over. And. Over. And. Over.

#phoneandkeys #domesticviolencesurvival #cycleofabuse

[decembernight85]

Yesterday I was pumped. And just like that, I’m deflated.

I cried out to God today, and asking him why he didn’t answer my prayers before. Then I questioned if he would even answer them now. I told Him “I need you!” I apologized for how I feel, and how angry I’ve been.

I feel so alone today. I feel hopeless. Yesterday was so good, and today I lay wrapped up in my Christmas blanket on the couch crying.

I wonder what’s the point to all of this. What is to come out of it? I want to someday share my story and offer hope to others. But how can I possibly do that when my own hope is fading?

#divorce #domesticviolencesurvival #grievingmyself

[decembernight85]

Remember when I talked about my faith, and needing to forgive? Something happened to me today. Let me start by saying this: I've been SO angry. I've been angry at my ex. I've been angry at myself. And maybe more than anything, I've been angry at God. I haven't been able to wrap my brain around the fact that I was living as righteously as I could, and I was experiencing domestic violence, infertility, and physical illness. I went through a divorce. I have been isolated and shamed, even by my brothers and sisters in Christ. I felt almost entitled before all of this happened. Like God owed ME something. Everyday I am learning how flawed my thinking was. Eating a little crow never hurt anyone. I was in Church, feeling down because anger is like boulders fastened to us with fish hooks in the skin; painful, ugly, restrictive, and infectious. The pastor began his sermon on being positive and optimistic. Now I'm thinking "preacher, I'm getting real tired of you addressing my flaws in church every Sunday. Pick on someone else for a while, how about dah?" The sermon was straightforward, right out of Romans 8. He talked about the fact that we are forgiven, and there is a victory coming that is greater than these struggles. He talked about God working good for this who love him. And then he said THIS.... "NOTHING can separate us from the LOVE of God." (Romans 8:38-39). Now, I have heard and read that scripture more times than I can count. But it hit me today. The pastor said "Sin is not the end of the story." I have sinned. I have stumbled, and I have fallen on my face. But this is not how my story ends! And you know what else? It's not how my ex's story ends either. For the first time since the divorce, I hope to see my ex again. Let me be clear, not on Earth. I'm fine if we never cross paths here. But in Heaven, my wish is for us to recognize each other and bask in God's gracious glory. To have made it. And to BOTH be forgiven.

[decembernight85]

I'm homesick. But I'm sitting in my living room. I'm homesick for me. I miss who I was before I was broken. I miss my joy. I can't remeber the last time I truly felt joy. Everything is forced. The smiles and the laughter are forced. Inside I feel hollow. I feel empty. I feel lost. I don't recognize the person inside my skin. I look at her every day and don't recognize her. I feel like the hope of getting back home, back to me, is gone forever. How do I move forward as someone I don't know? When I imagine myself in 5 years, I see nothing. I can't imagine myself tomorrow. I'm struggling to breathe today. I feel like there's too much pressure to make decisions right now. I can't. I can't see past this moment.

[decembernight85]

[decembernight85]

The hospital just called to prepare me for my procedure next Friday. They gave me information about what to expect and ask me questions about my medical history. They also asked "have you ever been a victim of abuse?" My brain started racing. I started wondering what am I supposed to say? Am I a victim? Does that mean I didn't survive? Do I tell the truth or do I keep lying as I have for so long? Then I remembered I don't have to protect him anymore. I'm still not clear on how I define myself in this situation. So I quietly and fearfully said "yes." Then we had to go into what type of abuse. At this point I'm getting nervous. Does it matter? I survived. That's all that matters. But it's not this lady's fault, and she has no idea the weight of her questions. Or maybe she does, there's really no way of ever knowing. I told her that I had experienced physical and emotional abuse in the past. There, I said it. Now I can't breathe. Now what's going to happen? The conversation continued although I was stuck in the mix of our last few exchanges. She goes on to discuss who would be coming to the procedure with me, and what decisions should be made if something goes wrong. I feel like saying "listen Mary, I literally forgot to fix my hair this morning before work. How am I supposed to make life and death decisions? Can't somebody else do it?" Then I remembered that I'm an adult, and I am no longer married. These are my decisions to make, my burden to carry. Alone.

[decembernight85]

This. I heard this song for the first time today. She’s telling MY story. finally. Someone is brave enough to tell my story. I keep thinking about how he used my faith to oppress me. To make me doubt myself, and to hate myself. Because a “good Christian” would just stay. She would just accept the abuse. She would keep quiet, and pretend that she’s ok with this misery until she died. Sad part was, I feared he would be the cause of my death. He threatened to kill me, after all. And he always said that he was knowledgeable enough to kill one person and get away with it. So I believed him the day he said it would be me.

 That was the day I fell out of love. My faith tells me I am supposed to forgive him and to pray for him. At this point the best I can do is pray for help to forgive him. How do you forgive someone who isn’t sorry?

The best I can hope for is that he will change. If not for himself, then for his new wife. I’m not angry at her. He is charming and manipulative. He leads one to believe he  is solid. He is grounded. That’s not her fault. My hope is that he never shows her the side of him that I saw, that I feared, and that I grew to despise.