Thursday, September 24, 2015

Just Desserts

A year ago I looked like this:

My husband did that to me.

On July 14, he got worried when I reached for his phone because he was afraid I would see the pornography he had made with my former friend and the conversation between them indicating they were clearly and definitively more than friends.

That day we had been talking about our impending divorce and he told me he'd retained a lawyer.  When I said if he had one, I should have one too, I reached for his phone.  At that time, the demise of our marriage was blamed fully and exclusively on my mental health issues and alcohol abuse.  I accepted responsibility for the end of the marriage and felt bad that I had failed so completely.

Within seconds of reaching for his phone, my world turned even more upside down.

Shoved face first against the window in his office, I felt my left arm twisted so high up behind my back, my l. tore my rotator cuff.  I didn't realize it was injured at first.  Everything hurt so badly, I wasn't sure what was what.

I twisted and fought back against his restraint.  When he shoved me toward his desk, my body slid across the top of it and his office equipment (stapler, etc) flew off the other side of the desk. It all happened fast.

My husband told me that if I called Wright County for help, he would tell them I started the argument and that I hurt him and threw things in his office.  That would have been a violation of my probation, which said I needed to remain law abiding.  During the altercation, our son came to his office and he told our son those exactly lies - that I had thrown things and started the altercation.  He was convincing and that was scary, so I didn't call anyone.

I did tell my dad.  My dad looked at me sitting across the desk from him and said, "You got what you deserved."

On July 15, I got in my car and realized my husband had taken things from it, even though it had been locked when I went to bed.  He later admitted to coming into my bedroom when I was sleeping and taking the keys from my bag to take the things he wanted. I went to his car and took them back and went to the office to make copies of credit cards.  Considering they were jointly held, I am pretty sure I had the right to have the numbers so I could figure out what we owed.

When he arrived that day, he shoved me against the desk in the copy room at our office.  He had his arm around my neck but was careful not to use his hands.  He ripped the copies out of my hands and shredded them while holding my body against the desk.  He also took all the credit cards.

On July 16, the morning I read the text message between him and a person who was clearly his lover, he shoved me against the shower surround in our bathroom, again being careful not to use his hands or fists, and twisted my hands until he got his phone from me.  He had his arm wrapped around my neck to restrain me and I bit the inside of his arm to get him to release me.  The location of the bruise from my bite clearly should have indicated I did it in self defense.

That day I finally called for help.  I was severely hurt emotionally and physically.  I was afraid it would continue to get worse.  Despite all of those things, I was also marvelously relieved.  All of the sudden all the bizarre behavior and changes in his personality made complete sense for the first time in a year.  The demise of my marriage wasn't solely my responsibility after all.

I did report what had happened.  The officer took my report and took my husband's report.  My husband claimed all kinds of things that weren't true:

I did not and could not ever try to kill him.

I did not and could not choke him.  He's a foot taller than me and outweighed me by at least 50 pounds.  What?  He's choked me repeatedly since I was 17 years old.

I have never been jealous or tried to control his daily activities.  He did that to me.  He read my phone messages, read my emails, and constantly tried to catch me doing something wrong.

I was not separated from him.  We were living in the same house at the time.

I have never followed him or spied on him.  He has done that to me though.  Of course, had I, I would have discovered his affair months earlier and saved us both a great deal of pain.

I have never forced him to have sex with me.  Never.  How exactly does that work, I wonder?  Again, he has done that to me repeatedly for the twenty-seven years we were married.  In fact, he often used alcohol to achieve his sexual goals, including threesomes and public sex.

My husband lied about one encounter after another.  He later admitted he felt like he had to in order to keep his job.  He thought my dad would stand beside me as his daughter and was worried about his livelihood.

He didn't have to worry.

My dad not only failed to stand beside me, he offered my husband a place to live at that time, gives him a vehicle and insurance, provides health insurance, and allows my husband unlimited access to cash and checking accounts.  He also continues to employ my husband's family despite their abuse of my dad's generosity.  My husband has never had any consequences for having sex in the company facilities, at my father's house, or in company vehicles and equipment, or for using company resources to conduct his affair.  Far from having his livelihood threatened, my husband has continued to prosper.

Eventually my son saw the report.  I had left it on the counter the week I was going to court to face the domestic assault charges.  He was livid when he saw it.  He had witnessed enough to know his dad was lying.  My husband told my son he was going to rescind his statements.  He never has.  In one respect it no longer matters; the charges were dropped.  They will never disappear though.  And I live every day with the torn rotator cuff caused directly by my husband's actions.

I came across this meme:

In my case it wasn't the door that was kicked down.  Instead I was beaten and bruised.

And you know what?

I never, ever have to be hurt in my work place or my home again.

Praise God!

The week of July 14, 2014, was painful in so many ways.  Revisiting it today is painful.  Living with the aftereffects is painful.

But I have a propensity to forget bad things and this I need to remember.

I need to remember that I was my husband's victim - no matter how much I hate that word.

I need to remember exactly how far my husband and my friend went to hurt and discredit me.

I need to remember that using a chemical to manage my life failed.

I definitely played my part.  I couldn't deal with anything that was happening.  I was sick and struggling for certain.  I couldn't understand why so many things had changed, why I didn't feel safe, and why my husband had become my enemy.

And I didn't think I had a champion.  I didn't think I had decent people standing with me.  I didn't think I had any resources.  I didn't think I had people actively working against me and my recovery.

I was wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong!

My husband failed me.  My father failed me.  My friend failed me.  Those things are true.

What is left beyond them is immeasurably wonderful.

I am on the path to recovery.

I have chosen to forgive the people who have hurt me just as I have chosen to remember what was done to me.

I celebrate my blessings every single day.

And it feels really, really good.


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