The last four years with my abuser, I had a very well-paying job. I made about twice the amount he made. I would sign my paycheck over to him, and he gave me an allowance of $20 for lunch and a tank of gas. He said it was the man's job to handle money. I had been emotionally beat down so much, I didn't argue.
Although I made a lot of money, I hated my job. I didn't agree with many of the things this (non-profit) organization did. When I started there were three people doing my job, however as people left, they were not replaced, and their work was transferred to me. It was impossible for one person to carry the workload that was now my responsibility. The stress was unbelievable.
We lived in an area that was hit by Hurricane Katrina. A tree fell on our home, property we owned on the Mississippi Coast was buried in water, trash, and mud. I am thankful we received no more damage than we did, however the damage around us was devastating. I cried about it. Jeff told me I was over reacting and to stop being a sissy. I couldn't stop crying and fell into a depression.
Two months after Katrina, we received an insurance check to repair our roof. Jeff deposited the check, put a temporary patch on the roof and said he had better uses for the money. The roof was not fixed, it leaked into the attic. It was not a bad leak, but it was slowly causing damage. I found out later the the money was gone, and Jeff refused or was unable to explain where it had gone. He became verbally abusive when I would ask about it, or any of our other finances.
I drove an hour and a half to work, and an hour and half home, it was only about 30 miles, but took that long because it was rush hour. After working all day, I was expected to prepare supper, clean house, laundry,and do whatever was necessary to maintain the home. My son was college age and my daughter was in high school. The only help I was able to get from them is they did their own laundry. I reached a point where I told them they were old enough to do it, and I refused to do it. When they ran out of clean clothes, they did it. I tried that tactic on Jeff and received slaps, hits, and cursing for even trying.
In addition to working and doing almost everything around the house, I took two online classes. I didn't take them because I wanted to take them, but because Jeff didn't want me to pay back my student loans, even though I made enough to do so. He felt it was a waste of money. I took the classes to prevent them from going into default. I slept about 4 hours per night. My son then decided he couldn't live in the college dorm and returned home. He drove an hour to school and an hour home. His truck broke down. He asked me if I would drive him to and from school. I told him to ask his dad. Jeff refused, saying it was too far, and then told me to stop being a selfish bi.ch and do it. To keep peace in the family, I did. My son never said thank you, nor offered to help me with my workload at home. My sleep time dropped to 3 hours per night.
When I would ask for help from Jeff, he would curse me, tell me to just do what I needed to do and stop talking about it. He said it was woman's work and was I trying to make him into a fagot by expecting him to do woman's work? Jeff averaged 9 hours of sleep a night. He drove less than 15 minutes to his job, and offered no help, only verbal and emotional abuse. Jeff would also call me every 10 minutes while I was driving to or from work, asking me where I was. He claimed he was checking to be sure I was okay, but if I didn't answer by the second ring, he would go into a tirade of abuse, claiming I was talking to someone and accusing me of cheating. One evening while driving I was talking to my older brother about a family matter and did not answer. During the 25 minute conversation with my brother, Jeff called me 15 times. When I finished the call, I called Jeff. I apologized for not answering and told him I had been talking with my brother. He started telling me how worried he was and how inconsiderate I was for not answering his call. When I tried to explain what my brother and I were talking about, he started cursing, telling me that I was putting my brother before the needs of my real family. I protested because it had been almost a year since I had spoken to my brother. This made no difference to Jeff. His voice got louder and he became more verbally abusive. I finally set the phone down on the console. His voice was so loud that even without my cell being on speaker, I could still hear him. He continued until I drove into the driveway at the house. His verbal abuse continued even after I came into the house.
A lack of sleep and overwhelming stress at work were taking their toll on me. I had started seeing a psychiatrist for depression. One evening when I came home, I put on supper and went into the bedroom where Jeff was doing something on the computer. I walked up behind him, put my arms around him and asked how his day had gone. He turned off the monitor, stood up and asked me what the hell I wanted. I put my hand on his arm and told him I needed a hug because I was having a rough day. He slapped my hand away, told me not to start hanging on him, that I wasn't the only one who might have a bad day, and to just shut up and leave him alone. I stepped away from him and sat on the bed as he continued his abuse. I bit the inside of my mouth until it bled to keep myself from crying. I finally told him supper would be ready soon. He informed he that I had upset his stomach so much that he didn't know if he could force himself to choke down the sh.t that I cooked. I told him I only did the best I could and was told it wasn't good enough and never had been. I smiled, apologized and left the room. All I had wanted was a hug.
That night I laid in bed and thought about how peaceful it would be if I was dead. For the dead feel nothing at all. I got up and got one of the guns from the closet, loaded it, cocked it and put the barrel into my mouth. As I sat on the floor of the closet with the gun in my mouth, all I could think of was how much better everyone would be without me. I was such a worthless person. Before I pulled the trigger, I started praying for forgiveness. Then I took the gun from my mouth and told myself to wait until the weekend when it would give my family time to clean up without interrupting their schedules too much. Even when I was so depressed I wanted to die, I put my family first. I had spent 21 years being physically, verbally, and emotionally abused, first by my husband, then by my son, and I was concerned my death would interrupt their schedule.
The next morning I got up and went to work as usual. I prayed on the way to work again for forgiveness, looked forward to and planned for the weekend. I knew my pain would soon be over. I went through my morning in almost a daze, mindlessly doing my job, not putting forth any effort, as I felt it didn't matter any more. At lunchtime I fell asleep, as I was sleeping I dreamed I was wrapped in warmth and a hand touched me. I dreamed I was wrapped in a big hug. I heard a voice saying "Do not fear, I am here. I will strengthen you and help you." When I woke up, I felt at peace and no longer wanted to die. There are some who will laugh and scoff ay my belief, but I know that God reached out and touched me.
Thank You God for giving me a hug and lending me Your strength.
A few days later a person whom I had been friend with since 1999, but had not heard from in three years called me to say hello, and, although it was several more months, that was the first step towards my freedom.
Jeff, like many abusers, would withhold affection, making me beg for it, then abusing me physically, verbally, and emotionally when I did. He also expected me to do more than was possible for one person to accomplish, then abusing me for my failures. Even when I did manage, he would still abuse me, claiming it wasn't good enough. He also kept control of finances and money, restricting me to an allowance. He would monitor me and would become verbally abusive and accuse me of cheating when I was not immediately available, no matter what my current situation might be.
If you feel you are being abused or know someone who is being abused call the National Domestic Violence hotline. 1-800-799-7233.
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