Domestic Violence Awareness: My Story

October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month. I am survivor and this is my story.

Eleven years ago I was a victim of domestic violence. The last encounter was enough to prompt a visit to the hospital and became an eye-opening experience that I would never forget or repeat...

Every year, over 12 million women and men in the US fall prey to intimate partner physical violence, stalking, dating abuse, or rape. Shockingly, on average, 20 people every minute become victims of these heinous acts.

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A Brief Backstory

At the time, he was my best friend. I knew his family well and grew up with them. I trusted him and loved him with all of my heart. At first, I knew nothing about his addiction. When I realized he was fighting it, all I wanted to do was help him to overcome it. He asked me to help him so, I refused to leave him to suffer alone. He said he wanted to change...to be a better man. I believed in him. I prayed for him. I wanted nothing more than to protect him and see him overcome something that had taken over his life and cost him so much. My big heart and desire to help eventually led to the end of our relationship of two and a half years. I was younger then and very naive. I didn’t fully understand how deep drug and alcohol addiction could go or how far it could take someone who once loved and cared for me. The very thing that he wanted to protect me from, ended up being the one thing that hurt me the most...

The First Incident

The first time it happened I ignored it. He was drinking beer and liquor that night and was intoxicated. You see, he was addicted to pills and was trying to get clean. He swore the alcohol took the edge off and I excused it, because I cared and I didn’t want him to be sick from the withdrawals. I had witnessed firsthand how bad they could become. It meant a lot that he was actually trying to get clean. He had gone to rehab and even began to attend church. But that night, he was angry with me. I had refused to help him lie to a family member, so that he could get “just one little pill”. He asked repeatedly and I continued to refuse. I was not going to enable him. In a short bout of rage, he came close, poked me in the forehead and called me a bitch for not complying. I calmly stepped away and told him I would not argue with him. His family was around, so he let up and I stayed distant the rest of the night.

The Second Time Around

The second time, I again let it slide. He had moved in with me to get away and seemed to be doing well with his recovery. Little did I know, he was obtaining pills at work. One night after work, he had one too many beers and became intoxicated. I was working a new job serving, which prompted his drunken accusations of me cheating. He repeatedly attempted to argue, but I remained quiet. He came close to my face in order to intimidate me, so I calmly made my way around him. As I walked away he grabbed my shirt pulling me back to him, and slung me across the bed. In fear, with my shirt ripped almost completely off, I jumped up and rushed to our bathroom, locking the door behind me. He yelled, called me many names, and violently hit the door. Finally, after what seemed like forever, things came to a calm. When I was certain that he was asleep, I quietly made my way to the couch to rest.

The Final Blows

The third time was the last time he ever laid his hands on me. We had grilled steak for dinner that night. It was just the two of us that evening and everything was peaceful. We had some laughs and talked a lot while listening to music on the back deck. Unfortunately, he had been drinking liquor again and was drunk, so he fell asleep. I sat outside on the front porch for a bit while reading, then went to bed.

I was sound asleep, when I was suddenly woken by him straddling my body and choking me. He yelled at me, claiming that I was talking to someone on my phone while he was sleeping. I repeatedly denied the accusation and begged him to stop. He came to for a moment and laid beside me, apologizing, saying that it must have been a dream. Everything calmed down, so I got up and walked to the hallway bathroom. While washing my hands, he suddenly popped in and was standing in the doorway. He again, was attempting to argue and began accusing me of cheating. I knew he was drunk, so I declined to argue back with him. I asked him to let me by so that I could go back to bed and he refused to move. He picked up a heavy, ceramic figurine off of the bathroom counter, as if he was going to throw it at me. I asked him again to please let me leave the bathroom, to sit the figurine down, and told him we should get some rest. He would not budge.

When I finally tried to make my way between his body and the doorway, he grabbed me by my arms, pushed me down the hall, and shoved me into a door frame. He was hitting my arm, so I turned to block him. He pinned my arm with one hand and grabbed me by the throat, choking me. He grabbed my ears, digging his fingers into my head, in order to get a better grip, and bashed my head into the frame as hard as he could. He repeated this several times, trying to knock me unconscious. I pushed him off of me with what force I could gather and began fighting as if my life depended on it. I didn’t know if I was doing anything, but I was throwing punches left and right. We pushed and fought all the way down the hall and into the living room. He just would not stop, so I became winded and tired. He then grabbed me and slammed me into the floor, knocking my breath out of me.

He leaned over me and again took my head in his hands and began bashing my head into the floor. I finally managed to get his attention by kicking him in the groin. At that point, he stopped attacking me, stood up, and backed away. He scurried off to find a ride so he could leave before the police came. I got up from the floor and ran to my room, locking the door behind me. I was naked, without my phone, and scared to death. I listened to his phone conversation through the door until finally the front door opened, slammed shut, and all was silent. When I was certain the coast was clear, I made my way to my phone and called my mom. I was in so much pain from all of the bruises, still winded, extremely dizzy, and my head was pounding. I couldn’t move my arm and it felt like it was broken.

My sister took me to the hospital to see about my injuries. They checked me in, took me into a room, and I was greeted by a police officer. He explained to me that I had to tell my story and cooperate with him due to the obvious nature of my injuries. This was difficult for me to do. I didn’t want to “stir the pot” or cause further issues. However, I complied and reluctantly shared with him the events of the night. The officer then assured me that all would be fine. When I was released from the hospital, I didn’t go want to go home, so I stayed with my parents for a few days. The next day, I was so exhausted from the trauma and the altercation that I slept nearly an entire day.

Forgiveness and Healing

Quite a bit of time passed before I ever heard from him again. One day, out of the blue, I received a phone call from a number that I did not recognize. When I said hello, he spoke quickly and asked that I not hang up. He had just completed anger management and wanted to gain some closure by apologizing to me. He said that he honestly didn’t remember anything that happened that night because of the pills and the alcohol. I accepted his apology, told him that I forgave him, and that was the end of our time together.

Years later, we crossed paths and talked a bit, but I never allowed myself to get close to him again. I realized that he was battling a demon far greater than what I could face with him. My safety and well being became my priority. I wanted better for my life, my kids, and myself. Since then, I have grown and learned many lessons that I now share openly to help others. This is not my only encounter with domestic violence, but it was the one that truly opened my eyes to my worth and how bad things could have been that night.

Speak Out, Get Help

If you have experienced domestic violence, please reach out for help. It can potentially save your life. If you are a survivor and want to talk or share your experience, you are always welcome to contact me. National Domestic Violence Hotline 1-800-799-7233 (SAFE) | www.ndvh.org