When the Law Doesn't Work

Well this isn't an easy story to tell but I will try so that we can hope for tougher laws. Earlier this year I divorced a man that took abuse to extremes.

From December 2003 to July 2004 I survived some of the greatest terrors that one can survive. It all began with a few drinks to celebrate the holidays and then took on the drug factor.

Then when my ex husband got really strung out he began to manufacture bombs and, methamphetamines. I had begged him to give up all the drugs and booze as our family and marriage was falling apart. Well things only went form bad to worse from there. After a heated argument I was forced to sleep with one of four bombs. This was done so that I would be fully aware of who was in control. After the first night the bomb was removed from my bed but kept in the bedroom as a constant reminer. It didnt take me long to figure out that I was going to have to get the police involved in order to save my life and the life of my teenaged son. So for some time I was in contact with an officer of the sherrifs office. They conducted a raid on my home and put this man in jail. And I only wish it had ended there.

I had gotten a restraining order but was forced to drop it in order to sign papers as I was trying to refinance my home. I had no idea that he would be released the next day. The horrors relly began then. He was fully aware that I was the one who had him arrested and he made sure that I suffered for it. He never really hit me but the mental abuse was far worse. He constantly threatened suicide and made sure to tell me that I was responsible. He had knives and a bottle of pills at all times, even threatened while driving at fast speeds. I was driven down dark roads where I was told that if I didnt straighten up I could end up dead. He used axes and machetes as well to make sure I didnt get out of control. I had saught help from the police and was even told once to grab a pair of panties and a toothbrush and run. I guess that thinking that I could get this man out of my home and out of my life and in jail was just to much to hope for.

When I finally got away from this man I was in a place where the people carried guns because of how dangerous he had become. I again got a restraining order. Even though he had been served he was removing prperty to sell for drugs. When once again I was refused help from the sherriffs office I had to return home in order to protect myself. You see if my house was found to have more drugs or the likes I was responsible as the owner of the home and him being served the order not to be there. With my son placed safely away I returned home.

Nearly all of my belongings were gone and he even took some of the water faucets. But I guess thats neither here nor there. I wasnt home but a few minutes and was able to repair the phone lines and have the sherriffs dept out there again. I was told that since an officer wasnt there not even the phone calls were a violation of the order.

So for two days I slept in the livingroom armed with a spray bottle of amonia and a pillowcase with cannned goods in it and a knife under the cushion. But then I got a phone call not from his cell number and it was him. He told me that he was coming over and that I was getting in the truck and going to go have a talk. I immedialtely called the sherriffs dept and was told that they were not going to send an officer out just because he said he was coming over. Well he did come over and after I refused to go with him he threw the truck in reverse nearly hitting me. All the while I had the sherriffs dispatcher on a borrowed cell phone. After he left I called the state police hoping for some help. I know that this man wanted me dead.
The state police showed up before the sherriffs officer and was able to find my side of the episode credible and get an order for an arrest. The following day he was finally arrested after a two and a half hour standoff with the police. Much of which I had to endure because they ( the state police) had me on the phone begging him to surrender. I guess the officers even had to shoot him with bean bag shots.  Thanks to a plea bargain he only recieved a three year sentence and will probably be getting out on parole next month.

And yes I still live in fear. I have lost my home and all that I'd worked for but have begun to learn to be thankful for getting away with my life. I had moved to the city and thought myself to be safe until his new girl found out where I live now. I can only pray that his time in prison has diminished his murderous outrage towards me. If not I am afraid that I will become yet another of the horrendous stories we all hear on the news.
So yes I will sign and pray for stiffer penalties of domestic abuse cases. Not to mention more equiped resources and personel to assits the victims in finding a way to a normal life.

As for my life..........Well I am trying to recover. I have gone from working in patient care at a local hospital to full and total disability. Diagnos is severe PTSD, severe anxiety, depression and panick attacks.

A National Epidemic - A Disabled Survivor of Domestic Violence Who Feels Compelled  To Make A Difference

If you were to see me walking down your local street, or in the market, you would never realize that I am a survivor. A survivor, of epidemic proportions in the United States. The physical scars have long since healed, yet the mental and emotional scars upon my heart are there. In some ways they will always remain deep inside of me. You see, I am a lucky woman. For I am a survivor of 17 years of domestic violence. I am one of the fortunate ones, but just this past week here in the state of Washington, one young woman, only 29 years old, with a young child only two, was not fortunate at all. As she had reached out for help, from the law, friends and family, less than 24 hours later, in front of her young child, she died at the hands of her abuser, her husband.

Those who have never suffered physical, mental, and emotional abuse, often wonder “Why we stay”? Well, there are many answers to that question. We stay because we are terrified if we try and leave we will die. We stay due to in some way we feel “We deserve it”. We stay for our children, out of shame, out of fearing no one will believe us. We stay because we feel there is no other place to go. We stay because we know if we call out for help and the police come, they will only leave with the reply, until something happens there is little the laws can do. Not until something horrible happens like the death of this young woman in Washington is there little victims of abuse can truly do.

I stayed for 17 years for many of the same reasons most do. Fear of being killed, fear for our children, fear no one believes us, feeling like I deserved it, shame and the whole gamut of emotions that take over. We often go into denial, thinking we can change the abuser. If we love them more, do more, change our selves, that we can make them love us, and quit hurting us. But that denial is false. We are not responsible, we cannot heal them from the sickness that plagues them, we can only get out, hide, change our entire lives, and hope they do not stalk and find us again. For if they do, we are certainly doomed.

I often tell my story, not for glory, or for sympathy, but so other women, men and children who may be in an abusive situation can see there is hope, there is a way out, and we are worth far more than being hit, tortured, mentally and emotionally devoured by the violence of another.

You see, even though I was lucky enough to escape the abuse of my ex-husband, the scars within my soul stay. The night terrors haunt me almost nightly, the thoughts of him finding me are real. I suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, anxiety, and feelings the go up and down at times, from the past pain and fear, I lived in for years. After almost being killed on several occasions, hundreds of calls to 911, restraining orders, hiding so many nights, and then even leaving the state, at first most people that knew me thought I was the one with the problem. They could not understand why I left my home, why I hid out many times, why I stayed home so many days from my job, and all of the other things victims of abuse do. For my abuser, was and still is a grand manipulator. He led everyone to believe in public he was a sweet, caring husband and Father. Even my parents were deceived for years by his lies and cover-ups. I was too ashamed and afraid to tell a soul, so beneath the shadows of fear, I hid also, all of the pain deep inside. I shut down my emotions, to just survive.
Now after almost 6 years of being out of that nightmare, I live with the left over pain, mentally and emotionally. But, I am alive. I have dealt with man of the issues, and now my own family and friends finally know the truth. My relationships with my parents, other relatives and friends, now have healed for they found out all of my odd actions were to save my own life, and the life of my two children. For that I am blessed. I am blessed now to be able to finally love myself, and have someone that loves me back in the way I deserve. But still the battle scars affect even my wonderful relationship at times, just due to things that sometimes trigger old memories and pain.

Today, after a strong burden on my heart, I write this email. I know I am only one person, but something deep inside of me says I need to make a difference. Our laws are still not nearly enough to protect victims of domestic abuse, as I and this state knows from just the past death of a young woman this week. All she tried, the system failed her, and her child. Until her death, basically he was free to continue to reign his wrath of violence upon her, and her life was needlessly taken, leaving a small child with a Mother or Father, due to our legal system and no laws strong enough against this plague. Domestic violence I know kills more women in the U.S. in a year than cancer and heart attacks. Many of these needless deaths probably go not noticed and covered up by the abuser.

I feel I need to fight! Fight for the victims still out there, for new laws, tougher punishments, BEFORE someone has to die!

I have began by emailing friends and family, and posting my intentions to some groups I belong to. I have started making a list of things I can do, such as design a website, get a non-profit grant, email newspapers, other support groups, TV News stations, to get more awareness out there about this horrific and most of the time hidden epidemic that plagues so many of us. I am asking for information, suggestions, ideas and help. From petitions to help change laws, or any information or ideas you can send me, I feel the need to open more eyes and ears to what is right in front of our faces, from the next door neighbor, to a co-worker.

I urge you to take a good look around, search deep in your heart, and email me back any ideas, help or suggestions you have to help me with this most valuable and needed cause, TO STOP DOMESTIC VIOLENCE BEFORE IT KILLS!!!!

I am also disabled, suffering from many health conditions, a heart attack, severe migraines, severe joint disease that causes almost unbearable pain, kidney stones, high blood pressure, anxiety and depressions issues, and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, just to name a few.


With my honor, best wishes, and appreciation,

Rhia

My Journey to "Ours"

I first wrote of my life as a Domestic Violence victim on July 22, 2005. It is on page 27 if you'd like know the background of this horror that came to be my life.

I called my time from death's doorstep to now, "My Journey".

My Journey has now become "Our Journey" as on my family vacation, November 3rd-November 7th I learned of the pain and suffering my children still carry. I see too much of how I "just carried on to survive" 20 years after-the-fact, in them!

This is another horror to me! Not my childrent Of course, it's something I suspected and feared all these years. Had they seen and heard too much?Had they not been told enough or too much?? It's like the same feeling I had in needing to get away from their Dad and not knowing what to do. I was truly LOST!!!

I AM truly lost!!! It's been 20 and a half years since we parted as he was taken away to the penitentiary to serve time for voluntary manslaughter. A 10 year probation full of violations brought him to this point.The chance to go on and do better was gone! Why??? I don't understand now, any more than I did then. We were together for 18 years, I was 35 @ the time and that was over half my life with this man that had two sides. As time went by, the darkness was a veil that outgrew the light!

Feelings of confusion because there was so much fear of him for my children as well as myself! The guilt of "this is their Dad"! Questions of what if I don't give him the chance to change and dreaming of how it could all be so different for my family.

The truly innocent victims were my children and they still are. This is what Domestic Violence does, especially to the children.

My daughter and son, now 28 and 29 years old aren't ready for me, there's too much pain! My grand-daughter is 7 and it was the first time I had seen her except for pictures. I had spoken to her on the phone. She is so unaware of this kind of horror and I pray she NEVER endures any of it! I thanked them for the time they gave me and for the time with my grand-daughter. I took them each a picture album so they would have something to cherish from the past, the good times. I saw this was very important to them. Now I can only e-mail communication with my daughter as they prefer I didn't call.

I have taken full responsibility for my mistakes and that I was unable to be there when his family stepped in and took over my children. I didn't know what they were up to at the time, or they wouldn't have had the chance. The death threats he made so often were, and still are, very real to me. Even as I was working to try to reach a point to be with my children, I feared he would hire a convict who would be released before him to find me and kill me. He loves our children and like he was with me, is very possessive of them too.

Following one of the nights of horrible beatings, rape, sodomy, and threats after he came home drunk, he came to me the next morning. He was angry with tears saying "no one is going to come between me and my kids!" His eyes were crazed and his face red with anger. I have never forgotten.

He knew I wanted to get away from him. I had gone through that night silently as my son was just over a year old and my daughter was only a few months old. I couldn't scream as it would have frightened them so!

I married him in 1967 and it's now 2005. I am still paying for this and the part that hurts the most has always been and still is my children's pain. Where do I go from here? How do I help them? I don't know yet, but this is "Our Journey". It won't be easy; I don't blame, nor will I, anyone else. I want them to find some peace with the past so it doesn't rob them of their happiness and the bright futures they hold. I'm thankful they're both
working @ good jobs and able to function as they need to, but I never want them to hit the bottom pits as I did.I simply want them to understand I was so traumatized I didn't know what to do and I didn't know where to go for help. For this, I am so sorry!

There wasn't much help out there until programs finally started to develop for the sake of the wives and children who need refuge from the nightmares they live. It's like a death stalking you in all your waking hours, and you just want it to be over with!

I found alcohol could numb me as well as take away some of the fear. It filled me with false hopes and I became an alcoholic. Steadily, consistently I began to drink more and more often until it was all I looked forward to anymore. It's a horrible, horrible way to live. If you call that living. In June, 2002, I was ready to leave this earth, so weary and so tired I couldn't struggle any more! There was nothing left for me, I thought, and after being rescued from myself, I find that 3 years of therapy and knowledge have brought me to the end of "My Journey" and into the most important one of all, the one for my childrens sakes, the true victims; I call it "Our Journey".

There was a time a few years ago that I think "My Journey" could have ended with my death by my own hands, as I wouldn't have be able to stand this "safe distance" my children need. Yes, it hurts and of course I hoped for more but reality hit home. I know that my hopes for the future, my children"s future is what is keeping me strong now. I'll continue to face the "ghost" of the past until it has been put in it's place, the PAST!!!

I must go on and work even harder for their sakes. They were and always will be my life. I'm learning to have some kind of a life beyond this with an appreciation for the simple things we sometimes forget. I've learned to have fun, smile, cherish the moments, and love myself a little. My mind still takes me into that darkness @ times, but knowledge is strength and faith is hope. My greatest loves, I thank you, my children and my grand-child.

I refuse to let this destroy all that I love! I hope with the depths of my heart and soul this helps someone to understand the impact Domestic Violence has on all who have been touched by it and how it continues to be passed on through the generations. My ex-husband was abused as a child, no excuse, just fact!

So many lives are devistated by this and the deaths that come from this are not to be in vane, but to give us strength to fight even harder. Society is greatly threatened by this so we must all support this fight.

Thank you for being there so I can do something to help.

I dedicate this to all those who suffer.

I Love You My Precious Babies!
Your Mother

Now I can cry, it's okay.

Why I signed

I signed because I have been in a domestic violent relationship. I know how alone, and how scary it is. It is a hard place to be in and a hard place to leave. I even wrote a booklet and had it published sharing my story and others so that others could read it and feel less alone. By signing I feel I am helping those who are still in that place....

Just realizing I am a victim

I am writing in response to some of the stories I read about wanting to hear from women still in the early stages of realizing they are victims. My husband is addicted to crack cocaine and has become very abusive. I have recently filed for a protective order just 4 days before our 8 year wedding anniversary. The next day I hired a lawyer to file for divorce. It took CPS and my therapist to help me come to the realization that I am a victim. I am looking for support from women who have gain strength and have survive without ever going back. We must take a stand and deal with the pain and grief of losing someone you love, who truly cannot love you they way they should.

Childhood Scars Don't ALWAYS Fade

Hi! My name is Nikki, 20 year old female who has had to deal with domestic violence all of my life. It's said to say but I don't have fond memories of being a happy family; going to the park or playing board games. Most of my childhood memories involve my father brutally beating my mother. My first memory (not that this was the first time it ever happened) of these 'incidents' takes place in my parent's bedroom, I was about 6-7 years old. It was a cold winter's night, my mother and I were laying upstairs when the portable heater shut off. All of a sudden my father came up the stairs and drug my mother out of bed and down 2 flights of step, that's when the screaming and cursing started. All over a fuse being blown! I remember going down stairs and seeing my dad repeatedly slammind my mom's head into a door leading to the basement. I remember so many times watching him shove her face into our dusty blue sectional sofa and saying that he wouldn't stop until she was dead.

You want to hear my memories of Christmas as an 8 year old little girl? It started out a good day, opened presents, played with new toys, watched movies, and got ready to eat dinner. It was apparently later now and dad probably had one too many drinks again. This is the memory that sticks out most in my mind and I know that I will never forget this till the day I die. I can remember my dad throwing my mom into our family Christmas tree and knocking it over and then mom quickly running back to the bathroom. I remember watching her stand in the corner of the shower as my dad continued to throw beer bottles at her and curse at her. It didn't end there, no it never ended soon. I remember him throwing her around like a plush rag doll. It didn't end until she had to crawl out of our house on Christmas day; shirt ripped, face bloodied, bruises beginning to protrude from all over and ask the neighbors to call 911. This battle ended that he broker her lumbar spine and fractured many of the vertebraes. Another VICTORY for him!

That's not all that he ever did to her though, that was actually miniscule compared to the 2 brain surgeries she had to endure because he constantly hit her in the head, you know if she got hit on the left side of her head now- it would instantly kill her. Well she finally left him but none soon enough to erase the images that are forever etched into my mind. I can only imagine what it's like for a women to deal with being abused but the funny thing that mom always said was that the bruises would fade but the emotional anguish would never- how true she was. To this day, I can still relive almost every fight that they had, I can sometimes hear the screams coming from my mom as she pleaded for him to stop because I was around, I can remember the countless times that she promised she would leave but would ALWAYS go back- she never learned...it's been over 11 years since my parents have officially 'been together', but they are still great friends. My point is that the victim and the abuser may be able to move past the actions that took place years ago, but they never think to look and see if anyone else is effected by what happened. No matter what your reason for staying is; kids, income, security- it's not worth it! NO woman deserves to be treated like dirt and kicked around like a child's soccer ball. My mom always said that she wanted me to have a perfect family, that's why she stayed...as good as her intentions were; the choice that she made to stay for so long has damaged me more than not having both of my parents living together.

To this day, I am afraid of my father and I honestly believe that my mother was too afraid to leave him...I blame both of them, and only them, for the wounds that have scarred my heart and the the images that have been burned into my memory to this day. Seasons change, people change, our lives change, but there are many imperative things we learn as children that make us into the people we grow up to be. As for me, I have learned many valuable lessons from my childhood and I can except what happened, but it will never fade away....NEVER- it's like that scar you get riding your bike for the first time without training wheels, everytime you look at it as an adult and over the years of your life; you look back and chuckle about how it's still there and you can probably reminisce about it. When I look at myself, I don't see scars on the outside that are visible to everyone else; I see scars that NEVER fade or go away.....Please, if you or someone you know is being abused...GET HELP RIGHT AWAY! You may be the 'angel' that saves a child from having these scars that so vividly haunt me.

Free At Last

1 out of ever 4 women are raped, and I never believed it. Looking around in the car I was in, I realized that out of the four girls present, I was the one that had been raped, and that statistic proved true.

At the age of four, my brothers best friend raped me, saying that if I didn't let him do whatever he wanted, he would kill my mother and newborn sister. I could never risk their lives for the sake of me, and when my mother found out, she brought him to court. However, because he was a minor, he wasn't charged. Today, he stands, a free man. I went to his graduation, and saw him walk across the stage knowing that he shouldn't be there, he shouldn't be graduating, getting away with what he did.

My father was also abusive sexually and physically. I testified against him two years ago, when I was 14, and ended up in foster care for the summer. I remember times when I was little, where my sister and I could sit next to him and smile, because we were his little girls. He would teach us how to read and how to paint. Where did those days go? They came to an end when he hit my mother, and moved on to me. We moved away, we bolted our new doors, and he followed us. He traced our calls, he hired detectives and friends, and we lived a life of hiding.

I stand today, knowing that my father is in jail, and that I put him there. He has hurt my mother, my sister, and I, and we will never forget what he has done. But we have also grown stronger and moved on from it. My mother has become and nurse, and I am to graduate high school...my sister will be in high school next year, and I couldn't be prouder. He shouldn't feel happy or special, or different because we will remember him. We will always remember what he has done. It took 10 years to put him in jail, and now we are free.

Thank you 700women. I didn't know that so many women went through the same things we did. You proved to me that justice can be served, and that I'm not the only one who went through things like this.