A little about me

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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/

Sunday, February 20, 2011

5 days and counting until Independence Day!

WOW! I can not believe how time has flown by. 2 years! No final on the divorce and I am thrilled to say I have not heard from him lately (STBX- Soon To Be Ex). Court date is still in June, we have not done the Paternity test yet. Too broke! $500 to get it done, that is a big chunk for us to use right now, me without a job is not helping. On the bright side I had an interview on Friday of which I was asked to come back to shadow tomorrow. I also had a voice mail after church for an interview at Kohl's! WAHOO!

One way or another I will get a job this week, my eBay sales are ok not enough to pay the rent or utility bills but it does help for a small spurlge of lunch or dinner for us. Mad Money! I have been searching for past blogs and can not find them anywhere. I lost them somehow on myspace, so now I decided to look for the hardcopies around here. Wish me luck! I do have a previous post called "Living with a violent person" from 10/2009.

If you know someone dealing with abuse please feel free to email me. I will be happy to listen or point them in the right direction if they need help leaving. Don't be silent!

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Various things come to mind, oh they weren't all that bad, we did have many good times. There were times of hilarious laughter. Things that helped keep me praying, if we could just bottle that time or keep laughing like this then maybe...

Those times had gotten so few and far between that my sanity, let alone my safety was at stake. It had gotten to a point where I questioned so much about myself, being a good wife, mother, person in general. He was so good at manipulating my thoughts and actions I honestly thought I was a terrible person. I believed that I was wrong on so many levels on everything I did. I heard these things so often that I swore it was God's honest truth about me. I believed it... No matter how many books or videos or other self help things on improving myself I read I could never seem to live up to this ideal person he had for himself.

I felt very stupid, like the stupidest person on the planet for many reason, one because I stayed and allowed him to control me. Two because he reminded me that I was! Any self esteem as well as confidence I had were in the toliet. I viewed myself (and I'm still working on feeling better about myself) as a fat, ugly, and stupid person. Anytime I would get a compliment on anything about myself from someone outside left me embarassed and confused. I still get embarassed. I don't see myself as attractive in any shape or form. Beauty of course is in the eye of the beholder and that does make me happy. To know that someone out there takes me for me is very powerful and uplifting.

I'm reminded of that poster back in the 70's, God don't make junk! I leaned on the fact that I am important, I am loved and worthy of being loved. I mattered to those 3 kids that leaned on me to be strong, hold them up, and to be there when they needed me.
I jumped into the mix many times. I watched as he pulled their hair, slapped their faces, as he screamed at them so fiercely that spittle ran down his red face with his eyes bulging (spilt milk or some reason so trival it wasn't worth getting worked up about). I intervened as much as I could, I chased after him around the house as he chased the kids while he was worked up for no real reason but to be mean. I jumped in to take whatever he had to dish out to the kids. At this young age they should be concerned about going to slumber parties and hanging out with friends and not worried about if Dad is going to explode today.

Sneaking calls to me before he got home. Calling me in a panic if he went off on a tangent. Driven to the point where I was exhausted from being on guard while I slept, or during waking hours. Not wanting to leave the house because I couldn't trust if he was going to leave the kids alone or if he was going to go off. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Having my phone chirp and ring all the time because he wanted to know every little detail of what I was doing. It got to the point where I would just make up stuff because he had just called me 5 mins before and there were no changes.

How do you live with a mad man? Patience... Hope and prayer too! You begin to think this is normal. Doesn't everyone live like this? Doesn't everyone have some sort of issue like we do? No telling! It's no one's business so you keep quiet, plaster a smile on your face and pretend this doesn't exist. Pretend that you have the ideal family, that you are living the American dream of sucess, though there are struggles, no telling.

You live to survive, there's a point where you flash into survivor mode. You bring up defenses and just do what you are told to survive. Don't make waves, don't put up a fight. Whether it was out of feeling defeated or survivor mode that's what I did. I slipped into a state of blankness, just going through the motions. Remember I mentioned those little words and situations that make me remember?

I had that several times over the weekend. I remembered several things, cleaning up after he had relations with another. I remember laying in bed during relations praying for him to get done or for him not to touch me. I cried many times laying in a panic at bedtime. I was in a panic because many times I didn't want relations, I was in a panic because what if I fell asleep before he did (he would get upset), what if I didn't perform good enough? Many thoughts would run through my head at once, sometimes it got very noisy in there!

I scrambled in the morning to get his lunch and breakfast. Getting all flustered if I forgot something. I wrote notes, I plastered things on the door before he left, as I would go outside to load the truck and start his vehicle I wanted to remember things he needed. Hell's bell's if I forgot something he needed.  I dressed him, put on his socks, buttoned his shirts, helped him get his layers (if needed) on. I made him coffee or hot chocolate. I did what I could.

Many times the kids were not a witness to violent things that happened at nite or even in the morning. Luckily, I don't think I could look at them with a straight face due to being really embarassed. Embarassed that I was being treated like a dog, that I allowed it. That it seemed so natural and normal so it was ok. Knowing in my heart it wasn't, knowing in my heart this isn't how a relationship is supposed to be. Longing for normalcy, longing for a love that was not hurtful or mean. Longing for a mate that would make me feel safe and loved. I longed for a great love and after awhile I stopped daydreaming about such things as they do not exist, at least that's what I told myself.

The small things got me, pinching, pulling my hair, slapping me or forcing himself on me. That got me, his threats to harm me on some level at times got me mad. I began to tell him was that all he had? Did that make him man enough? Did it make him feel good that he can push me around? That he can push his kids around? Does that make you feel good?

I could picture many times when he had an object in his hands poised to throw at me. I became a good dodger! There are many holes in the walls from things he's thrown at me. Getting angerier because I moved. Duh! And me cleaning up the mess, drywall bits and pieces of whatever he threw at me. My fault that whatever it was now was broken! See what you made me do? Why did you break this, that or the other?

There were things I allowed him to do for the sake of the kids, like cold water. He would get upset so I would stand in the shower while he poured ice cold water on me with a super soaker or while he ran the shower I stood there and took it. It made him frustrations out, rather me then the kids. Or he would put ice down my pants or shove it in other places and he seemed to enjoy me squirming and crying. I didn't sob, mostly quiet tears, I would imagine myself elsewhere. I would go off in my mind almost seeing myself from a distance taking the punishments from afar. Allowing me to drift in peace feeling sorry for that poor woman in the shower or on the floor naked. Feeling bitterness as this was supposed to be someone that was my partner, someone I could turn to and trust.

How many times did I scrub the floor on my hands and knees until it sparkled? I swear he scuffed the floor with tar on purpose! Here I am not allowed to come to bed until the floor was clean, until the kitchen was cleaned. But as I'm doing so I can't make a sound or there would be hell to pay for keeping him awake. Had I done my chores prior I wouldn't be in that mess!

Now in many ways I guess I'm putting things off, dusting, vaccuming and such as defiance or maybe because now I can. I'm not sure which. We are better off. I can sleep without feeling someone kick me or have someone pull me by the hair because I have fallen asleep before him. I don't have anyone choking me or punching me at nite for whatever excuse he would give. I don't have anyone kicking me because I'm not getting done with whatever fast enough.

I'm getting to be happy I don't live with the delusions anymore. I can leave the tv on and wake up in the middle of the nite without anyone making me come back to bed if I don't feel like it. 

I will still have bad dreams, bad memories and some good. We survived and that's what is important. We are around to tell others and hopefully help someone else that is living in that situation. Maybe that's why I'm here... And if that's the case that's fine with me...

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