For some reason this has been weighing on my heart to tell a snippet of my story. I am reluctant to talk about this, cause it is not "Pretty" and hard to read, but i am hoping my story may help just one other person. I am also reluctant to talk about my ex-husband because there is nothing pleasant about him; plain and simple. He doesn't deserve to be talked about here, so I will hopefully only tell this story once and never another word. With that, here we go.
I used to live in Oceanside, in a small house that I really did like. However, I was not crazy about the neighborhood or the ability for my ex-husbands friends to whom I didn't care for much to always be at our house, drinking, partying and staying way past their welcome so to speak. I was in the midst of a horrible marriage, making my way through the day was difficult, if it was not burdened by work and the mounting bills it was heavily burdened by my ex. I constantly felt myself walking on egg shells around him, and always in a constant state of worry.
One day I got it in my head I NEEDED to move. I had to. I had to get myself out of that house. Out of that life. I suppose I thought that if I moved to a new house my problems wouldn't follow, they would stay buried in that house and on that property. I could start over so to speak. I also thought moving would change my ex-husband, that somehow miraculously he would be that man I "meant" to marry.
I knew I wanted to live in San Clemente, it was where my heart was. I LOVED the feel of this small beach town and well, my parents lived there, and that meant SAFETY. I went through SEVERAL houses, and nothing fit. At that time everything was too expensive and too much work needed to be done for it to be livable. Until the day I found her, it was only the Realtor and me at the time. I walked in and said this is it, this is "My Castle". I loved that it had a staircase that ran up the back of the house. I loved that it was smooshed in between several other houses, with people all around me. That meant safety in my eyes. Yes, it was REALLY expensive and WAY over priced, but I went head first into the sale and finally came out with my house. It seems to be in my nature that when I want something I make sure it happens, buying my house was no exception.
I remember the day we loaded up the truck to move to San Clemente. I remember feeling a sense of un-easiness, and as I sat in the front seat of the moving truck I looked over at my ex-husband and said to him, "Did I just make a huge mistake." He assured me I hadn't, but for some reason I couldn't shake the doom that overcame me as we drove through Camp Pendleton on our way to our new house. Our New Beginning.
The weeks went on, and things slowly but surely as I knew they would went down hill. Since we had moved 30 minutes from all of my ex's friends I spent many nights alone, as he went to hang with his friends, to drink, to go to not so nice clubs, to.... well you get the idea. I spent many nights getting late night phone calls asking for me to come and pick him up at 2am. We fought all of the time, I got blamed for moving him from his HOME town to San Clemente, and that blame became a burden on my shoulders and reason for him to begin to resent me, along with all kinds of other reason he could conjure up in his mind to make my life Hell.
My new house, was to be My Castle it was to keep me safe. I wanted to start a new life here and so far the same life I was running from followed me here. Yes, the stairs that ran up the back of the house kept me safe, but it didn't hide the fact that slowly but surely I was losing sight of myself, and no sooner did I also lose sight of my safety. As the weeks moved on, the binge drinking surmounted to uncontrollable levels, the anger grew, the fits of rage got worse, the blame only left me in tears on several occasions.
I remember the night vividly, and to be honest I usually have a Horrible memory. My ex called and asked me to come and get him, I refused at 2am, and this angered him to no end. He called repeatedly and then he had his friends start calling to tell me he was wasted and needed a way home. I pleaded with his friends to just keep him there and he could come home in the morning. Around 2:30am the front door swung opened, an angered drunken skeleton of a man came barreling through, straight into my room, ripping me out of bed and pushing me down the stairs. My heart was racing and my stomach hurt from the giant butterflies. In the kitchen he proceeded to yell at me for several things most of which I couldn't understand because he was so drunk. He explained how he had thrown his wedding ring off a balcony that night as I was not the woman he meant to marry. As you can tell the maturity level here was around ZERO. I just stood there in AW, that this was the man I married, how stupid am I?
As he tried to make himself something to eat, his friend just stood in the kitchen starring at us in disbelief, I begged him not to leave. Not two minutes later, a plate flew by my head and into the kitchen wall, another plate slammed on the floor and then more threats spewed out of his mouth. At this point I was freaked, but knew I couldn't show it. The screaming proceeded relentlessly however one thing I learned from his emotional abuse is that I couldn't let him think he had won, or he had control over me. I stood in front of him straight faced and fought right back. 'Til finally he looked at me and said, "You better watch your back, I am strong enough to throw you out of the upstairs bedroom window, perhaps you shouldn't sleep tonight." I just stood there. I started shaking. He was strong enough. And he wasn't joking. And this wasn't the 1st time he had threatened me like this.
I will never forget him finally tiring from all the alcohol and fighting. He stumbled upstairs to sleep. I crept up a little while later, praying he wouldn't hear me and wake up. I packed a bag and ran out of my house, out of My Castle while his friend lay on my couch watching me run...run for my life. I told his friend I was sorry he had to see that, and he looked at me and said, "Get out of here, I am sorry I brought him home." I thanked him once again for staying with me that night, he might have been my saving grace. I jumped into my car at 5:45am and drove as fast as I could to my parents (safety) and that was the last night we ever spent together. I never went back, I never forgave him and to this day his name, his face, the memories make me absolutely sick to my stomach.
What goes on behind closed doors of your neighbors, your friends, your fellow co-workers will sometimes amaze you. None of my neighbors knew what the nights brought for me, none of my friends (besides my BFF) would probably have believed me if I told them, thinking I was only joking because my ex was to them a "great" person. They had no idea who he was, and the sad part is to this day they still defend him and feel he never did anything wrong.
If you are in an abusive relationship, please get out. Please, you deserve better, you do. I never thought I was in an abusive relationship until I was out of it, and actually to this day, I have never said those words out loud. I felt silly telling someone else what my marriage consisted of, that we were a fraud, that my life was not what others thought it was. However, if I had stayed I don't know if I would be here today and if I had stayed who knows what my emotional state would be like.
Life is meant to be cherished, it is meant to be treasured, if you are in an abusive relationship, please find a way out. Don't be embarrassed, don't kid yourself that moving, that therapy, that learning to live your life that way is ok. It is not. I got out. I left. I demanded a divorce. I changed the locks on my house. I threw all of his stuff out on the curb. I told him he couldn't come back EVER. I stood up to him for once in my life and it felt good. It felt right.
Today I live in the same house, but it is my house. It is "My Castle" filled with everything I love, yes there are some bad memories, but I learned to move past those and to realize I deserve better. It was a long road to get here, but I made it.
I am sorry this is not a fun post nor something most of you want to read as the blogging world is so inspiring and so uplifting, but I just hope my story can be encouragement to someone else, somehow. I also know that my openness can detour some people from reading my blog and honestly I am ok with that, as this is what is in my heart and the main reason I started writing this blog was to tell MY story, it is not perfect, there are painful memories, and grouse stories, but this is me, and this is my life.
Always know you DESERVE the best & only you can make that happen.
Love yourself, always.
Images: one~ two ~ three ~ four ~five ~six ~seven ~
All images come from a group on Flickr called The League of the Empty chair and I found the images really intriguing, obviously...Te hee! :)
P.S. I promise tomorrow we will be back to the regularly broadcasted program!
P.S. S. Thank you to Tammy who found the wonderful Etsy store that makes amazing Burlap welcome banners I posted about a while back!! You can find them here & I do recommend taking a moment to browse Emilie's adorable shoppe!
P.S.S.S.......THE END, I PROMISE!
