When you hear “domestic abuse” what do you think?
Hitting? Black eyes, bruises, scars?
There’s a bit more to it than the physical abuse…what’s scarier is what you can’t see…the bruises and scars left on a persons heart, soul, and mind…
Chances are you know someone who has been in an abusive relationship.
Physical, mental or emotionally abused.
You might look at people and think “what the fuck? Why would you stay?!”.
It’s simple really. It’s not always that easy to walk away…if it were…we would.
Things get out of hand rather quickly and before you know it you’re trapped.
Believe me…I know…
I also know this….I survived. So will you.
I’ll make sure of it…I’ll also make it known that I was once that girl..that stupid girl that shoulda left a lot sooner.
I fucked up…repeatedly…I’ve survived repeatedly. So will you.
Can’t hold a good bitch down forever ;)
Abuse is sadly rather common and often over looked when there aren’t black eyes and broken bones.
It’s not overlooked here.
Emotional abuse is a lot for a person to bare alone…especially when you’re like me and can be exceptionally good at hating yourself.
Depression and abuse…can be a dangerous duo….it can be hell alone…
I tell these stories…I bare my soul so she won’t feel alone…so that she knows surviving is possible and all hope is not gone…
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“Im in over my head….again….”
We had been at a wedding dance with my family and actually had a great time. The PIT got a new dancing dress, I put on a dress (I had been drinking) and boogie woogie oogied all night. We (the PIT, the alcoholic and I) were staying at grammas house with my mom, brother and his buddy.
When we got to grammas it was around 1am, the PIT was beat from bustin a move, my mom needed help getting gramma in bed, we had all been drinking (ok well not gramma or the PIT)…it was late and I was tired.
Mom headed in the house with gramma and lucci.
I was finishing my smoke outside with the alcoholic when suddenly he realized it was only 1…there were still bars open.
HIM: “let’s go to the bar”
ME: “what?! No. I gotta get the kid & gramma to bed.”
HIM: “your mom can do it”
ME: “dude. No. I’m not making my mom do it all so we can go to the bar. I’m drunk enough.”
HIM: “I’m not”
ME: “I don’t care. Go to the bar then. You don’t need me to go.”
HIM” “how am I gonna get to the fuckin bar?”
ME: ”Ummmmm idk walk”
HIM: “no fuck that I’m not walking. Take me to the bar! I’m not done drinking!”
ME: “fuck that noise my drunk ass is not driving anywhere”
HIM: “take me to the fucking bar!!”
Ooook…psycho…
I was done smoking by now and done arguing with him about it so I started to walk up to the door
He grabbed me by my arm and threw me up against the garage door.
He pinned me there with his forearm across my throat. He got right in my face and was screaming at me like a fucking crazy person “you will take me to the fucking bar bitch I’m not done drinking. And who the fuck do you think you are?! Don’t ever walk away from me!!” he kept screaming but I stopped listening….what was the point?
I couldn’t answer with that arm across my throat.
It felt like he was yelling for hours but I’m sure it was only a minute….he was so loud his voice echoed thru the quiet neighborhood of the small town..so loud.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw her coming…i’ve never seen a look like that on my mothers face yet it was a firmiliar face…she had that “you hurt my baby Ima rip your fucking nuts off” look.
Her eyes…I’ll never forget the look in her eyes as she came at us…rage, fear, strength…I was so ashamed of myself.
“get off of her!!! Get the fuck off of her!!” she screamed as she tried to pull him off me. “get off her I’m calling the cops!!!”
Motherfuck. Calling the cops? In this town?! Shit. What will the neighbors say? Way to start a riot in my grammas driveway.
He let go of me but immediately turned to my mother and got all up in her face screaming and yelling the “you don’t tell me what to do” shit.
She yelled back, she screamed in his face and the way she was shaking I knew she was scared he would smack her…it was the same shake I had.
They yelled and cussed at each other, neither one able to hear me begging them to stop.
Begging him to stop…just stop!
Now it’s after 2 anyways and the damn bars closed so stfu and pass out already!
No no…it wasn’t about the bar anymore it was about women like us…bitches, whores, liars and useless.
It was bitching yelling and name calling because “women like us should be put in our place”
With that being said I ran in the house to wake up my brother…my very drunk brother.
”get up!! I need help!! He’s gonna hit her get up!!!”
My brothers gf & friend shot out of bed…my very drunk brother needed his big sis to shake the shit outta him.
Well, idk that he needed it but I did anyway
“what’s going on?!” the friend asked
“he’s gonna hit my mom help me get him off of her!”
B ran up the stairs and dashed outside. I shook my brother into a very disoriented state of conciousness.
“Jesus Christ CC! WHAT?!”
“he’s drunk and fighting with mom and I can’t get them to stop! He’s gonna hit her! Help me!!”
My brother..that kid…lol still a bit tipsy he gets out of bed..does this wierd little shake/seizure thing, puts his budweiser hat on and says “here goes”
Unfortunatly…this wasn’t the first time my little brother needed to save me from the assclown I was “with”
This wasn’t the first time I brought shame into my grandparents quiet home…let’s not forget…mr meth and the misplaced rock.
I don’t know what happened exactly…I didn’t go back out.
I stayed there..in grammas basement and bawled.
“what the fuck? What am I going to do now?”
The way I heard it was that as soon as my brother came out the alcoholic simmered down quite a bit & they were able to shut him up, get him in the house where he passed out and probably slept like a baby.
My mother and I didn’t sleep well that night…she was probably up all night wondering if he beats me & the PIT…wondering what would have happened if she hadn’t come out when she did…as a mother I can only imagine the heartbreak and disappointment I caused for my own mother by dating these losers.
The next morning was worse.
He must have been hung over or something.
He woke up pissed off and immediatly started in on me.
What a bitch I was..we could have avoided the whole thing if I would have just taken him to the bar.
CLEARLY this is my fault.
Mmhmmm has nothing to do with your drinking problem now does it?
Of course by this time I knew it was pointless to argue back. It was pointless to defend myself because he always made sure I couldn’t defend myself without making a scene.
Usually I’m down for a scene but not at grammas and not with the PIT present.
My mom wanted us to stay for breakfast..I wanted to stay, the PIT wanted to stay but the alcoholic didn’t so too fuckin bad apparently.
My mom tried to talk to him but that did not go well.
It’s like he was possessed…srsly how does someone wake up that angry?
He said horrible things to my mother…hurtful things…I watched her heart break when he said “keep this up and I’ll make sure you never see either one of them again“
With those words he delivered a massive blow to my mother…I watched her eyes fill with tears, she looked at me…I was bawling…I looked at her with shame…yet again look what I’ve brought home..I wanted to die.
This was way to outta hand. What the fuck just happened here?! What the fuck am I doing?! How am I going to get out of this one?! Motherfuck.
Finally I said “let’s just go.” at least get him outta my grandmothers house..away from my family before he hurt anyone else. “let’s just fucking go”
I loaded up the car, loaded up the PIT and hugged my mom goodbye…we both cried…I can’t imagine how she felt watching us drive away knowing what kind of dickface he was.
The PIT fell asleep on the 4 hour ride home…thankfully… Half way home he must have realized how much he disliked me…he started his same old speech…
“you’re such a whore” (really? How so)
“you think your so tough but your not. Your nothing more than a chink loving whore. Worthless” (again..really? How so motherfucker?)
Fighting back would have been pointless and would have woken the PIT up.
I sat there, trapped in the car listening to him point out all of my flaws, mistakes and weaknesses.
I tried my hardest to drown him out.
Part of me wanted to crawl in a hole and die…I was so sick of fighting..so tired of the bullshit…so tired of my own mistakes…just go away I thought…the other part of me started to plot my escape.
I knew I was getting out and I knew I needed to be sneaky about it or he would beat the piss outta me.
let’s face it…I don’t know shit about relationships
so…step up your game before approaching my friends) they look at me like “yeah yeah…says SINGLE you” and with that look I’ll generally bite my tounge and continue to bash their boyfriends in my mind.
I’ve managed to keep my heart in my pocket for years now.
…..I’m a survivor.
