A little about me
- Brook, IN, United States
- Abuse doesn't stop at the court room. Melinda has shared her battles in her life and through the court room as she navigates through the legal system Bringing encouragement, insight and empowerment to those that are in a abusive relationship. She is in the process of creating a new life, speaking engagements to "Break the Silence" of abuse, while putting a face to abuse. She is currently working on writing a book about her experiences as a Survivor.View short Bio here- https://www.patheos.com/blogs/ahappymedium/2013/02/notbrokenbutbrave/
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Call me Master...
Throughout the following events I prayed for him to change. I prayed to God to change me.
To save my marriage. I shouldn't have opened my self up into some situations. I have "What if'd" myself a lot!
I wondered if things were my fault as Rob said. That I was to blame for his anger. That if I had just made him happy and not screwed up everything would be ok.
This was my life from 1992 until 2009, which I left for the final time after taking him back countless times. I'm reaching out to keep a face as a Survivor of Abuse.
It doesn't matter if your hit with a baseball bat or with words or sexual.
Abuse is abuse!
Break the silence and remember your worthy of happiness.
I curled up in my hiding spot, on the floor behind the big recliner, peeking out to see if he was close to discovering where I was. I squeezed my eyes and silently prayed he would not find me. I curled into a tighter ball for fear and warmth. I shivered, my teeth chattered, the towel I had wrapped around me hurriedly was soaking wet, I dashed out to hide so fast I hadn’t had time to dry. The shower I took mins before the water was cold. He had turned off the hot water as punishment for my disobedience. I hoped he wouldn’t hear my teeth clanking together as if they were cymbals, the noise seemed so loud that I swore he could hear them! My heart was racing! He was yelling for me, "Come out stupid *itch!".
What I did not matter, it was trivial. If he had a terrible day at work he would take it out on me. The sky could have fallen and it would have been my fault. Someone could have looked at him too long and it would have been my fault. There were times I took the blame for things he did or things he forgot to do. I was the fall girl. I learned to be accountable for not only my actions but his as well.
I peered out again, straining to see where he was without giving away my spot. We had two cats and they were also nowhere to be found. I prayed for God to do something to save me! I was crying silently and just waited. It’s a small house not even 1,300 sq. ft! I’m surprised he hasn’t found me yet!
He was yelling for me! "Melinda! I love you come on! Stop playing! I’m sorry Babe, I just don’t know why I did that. I promise I won’t do anything just come out". I knew in my heart this was a lie! I didn’t want to come out, I wanted to run out of the house and not look back. But where would I go?
I slowly raised myself up, I was hurting, as I had been hiding there for over an hour. As I stood up he was in front of me in an instant! He looked at me tenderly, he touched my face so softly and he asked me, "Why are you so cold?". I blinked surprised and told him because of the shower being so cold, that I was cold because I had nothing but a wet towel on. He shrugged asked,"Why did you take a cold shower?"
I couldn’t believe it!
"Rob, you turned the hot water off, I heard you go into the wall and turn the faucet.".
He said, "No, I didn’t Mel. I must have just used too much hot water, sorry Babe, now come to bed."
He walked away and I just stared at him, fully aware of the events that transpired. And knowing now I would have to lay with this man. Hating myself for giving myself to him. Hating the actions I did to please him. Knowing in my heart I was there just as a bed warmer, despite anything he said. Despite any syrupy sounding words of endearment he would spew from his mouth.
This event is not rare! Countless times throughout our marriage I lay curled up on the floor, naked, cold, crying and hurting. I tried to keep the facade together, I tried to be the perfect mate, the perfect wife and lover. I could never attain high enough status in his eyes to fill that position. He would find something I lacked no matter what I did or no matter how hard I tried.
Over the years He changed my appearance more times then I could count.
I was never thin enough.
My teeth weren’t straight.
I hair wasn’t nice enough.
My clothes weren’t tight enough.
And the list went on and on. I grew tired of hearing about my imperfections on a constant basis. After sometime I stopped smiling. I was embarrassed of my smile, he said it crooked, and my teeth were a mess. I needed braces.
More often then not, my smiling at others would give him cause to say I was flirting with other men. Or I would make eye contact too long with men. So I stopped smiling at men, I stopped looking at men in the eye when I talked to them. I would look down when a man looked my way.
I lost confidence in myself. I began to feel like a troll. Like a fat, ugly troll. He told me on more then one occasion that I would be only good for one thing, spreading my legs or on my knees. "I couldn’t even get that right!", he would chide me.
I feel as though I set up a chain of events that I can sever and will take a lot of work to repair. The links have rusted and corroded in many places. Many parts can never be fixed and they must be taken to have new links replaced.
I came to regret having a cell phone the instant I had one. Oh I was tickled pink in the beginning. Soon after a string of phone calls and 2 way chirps caused me to want to throw the dang thing in the garbage. The conversations started innocently enough. His idea was that if I needed a phone in emergency or something like that I was accessible. Sounds like a credible excuse!
I don’t know exactly when the phrases started, "Who you with, where are you at, whatcha doing?"
I would give him a play by play of incidents of the hour or day. He would get ticked off if I had nothing to report and hell’s bell’s if he heard someone or something I couldn’t account for! Late by the train? No way! I must be out screwing around! Not an good excuse! I would firmly but yet not too firmly as that was disobedience and would cause ramifications that could be pretty severe. I dreaded that phone ringing! Maybe 5 to 10 calls either by phone (if he wanted to be private) or 2 way calls. He would check my calls to see who called me and vice versa. Text messages were a NO-NO! Any text messages on my phone or the bill were closely scrutinized for who the person was texting me. I had a few friends that would send me messages much to my chagrin. I would be drilled at what was being implied in the text. Who was the person texting me and why?
I was operating the shop and had given my number to countless people, all of which I had to physically describe the person in detail to Rob. Anyone that called was immediately trying to hit on me. Or I was trying to hide a relationship I was having with them. I had given a gentleman, that had consigned items at the shop. He came in often, sometimes with his brother or sister, he came by so often that Rob had concocted some elaborate idea this man and I were an item.
During our marriage I hadn’t stepped out on him, despite a longing to get away, I didn’t. The guy was just a charming and friendly guy. I recall having to take our son to karate practice down the street, of which Rob had me timed! I received a text from this man, he and his brother were having a drink in my honor for helping him out with his consignment items. I quickly informed him that I really couldn’t text as my husband did not allow me to do so, I had broken down in front of this man and his brother a few hours before at the shop. He said no worries, they didn't mean any trouble and good night.
I quickly gunned it home and Rob proceeded to grill me about my phone. It had chirped prior to me leaving out of the house and he took notice of that. In my haste I didn’t erase the messages from the man. Rob was livid! He wanted me to get this guy on the phone so he could as why he was trying to *uck his wife! Didn’t he know I was married? He went off on a tangent! If I was texting to this man who else was I texting or *ucking? I stood in front of him as though I was a child that had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. I felt guilty, I did have an attraction to the fellow. I found him easy to talk to. I knew better then to say anything to Rob about that! Anytime this man came into the shop and Rob was there I was immediately accused quietly of having an affair and I would scurry off to do some task to avoid any further rapid fire comments.
I felt like a robot. Sex was just that. There was no love. It was for his pleasure and I was to be ready anytime he demanded, 24/7. There were repercussions if I did not abide by his rules for this.
He begged me to try swinging. I felt dirty afterwards. I cried and cried during and afterwards silently.
I made excuses not to be involved. I would leave the room a gazillion times. I showered to scrub the disgust I felt for myself. I hated me. I hated going along with these things. I desperately wanted to feel loved. But not this way. Fast forward in 2007 I was diagnosed with HSV-2. To this day I am unsure if it due to the woman he brought into the marriage that year or from one of his many affairs. Either way, it was my fault and I must have been *ucking around.
I wanted to explore some fantasies which involved a beginning level into BD/SM. Only now do I realize I had some association with intimacy and love, somehow. I rationalized that sex, pain and love were all connected. Even after "normal" beating with my husband there was a makeup period where he would shower me with gifts, love and kindness.
I opened up shared with Rob but I did so hesitantly though as in the back of my mind I worried about how he would react during the act itself. I worried that he would take it too far. Most times he would ignore the safe word. If he was angry at me he would take it too the extreme. Pulling my hair or smacking me so hard, or chocking me. He seemed to get off better the more he hurt me. The more I would cry the angrier he would get causing him to get rougher. He would remind me that's what I wanted. He was only giving me my fantasy. Prior to my sharing, he would be violent during relations. He would hold a pillow over my face or rape me if I told him no to sex. No was not an answer. I was raped repeatedly many times during our marriage. I didn't view it that was at the time. But looking back...
Soon, he began asking me to find a slave. Someone for both of us. She would service him and she would be mine to use in the day for household tasks or any other type. But she would also be used to make sure I would be kept in line. She would have to report back to him about my daily tasks and doings. He was thinking of punishments, collars and contracts.
I regretted sharing.
I never felt safe doing these acts with him.
He would insist I call him Master.
*From 2007 to present- He has been in and out of the psych. ward due to suicide threats. Rob has been labeled by Counselors and Psychiatrists, as a Sex addict, Borderline Personality, Intermittent Explosive disorder, Psychopath, Narcissistic, Anxiety, Anti-social, Compulsive and Depression.*
I am not looking for pity.
I take the blame for many situations and for allowing myself to be treated without respect.
When you are in the moment you do not believe this.
Regardless no one deserves to be abused!