On 31 May 1991, I ended my life as a punching bag,
sex slave, money machine and alcoholic.
This marriage did not start out this
way. But after the birth of a beautiful baby boy, the stress, as in any
marriage, started mounting. A child constantly sick with ear infections and colic,
finances disintegrating, and with this a now ex- husband’s drinking became
worse and he eventually turned to drugs. His temper and mood swings became
One heated discussion got out of
hand and the realization that it was time to leave finally came. As he advanced
toward me with danger in his eyes he was blocked by a two foot tall
obstruction. “NO MY MOMMY” roared my son emphatically. This child had the
courage to stand up to him, what was stopping me? That night the plan to leave
was started and was further accelerated when the ex and one of his friends
raped me in a drunken, drugged up rage.
Escape was being put in place, but
“that starry night” an argument erupted and once again it was fight or flight.
This evil tried to conquer me for one last time racing out into that night. A
group of neighbors, friends even, gathered ‘round yelling and screaming but
offering no help. As if to be placing bets at a cock fight and cheering on
their prize winner.
The police finally came and took him
away into the night, my freedom in yellow arrived and the cab took us away to
the airport, flight with a different fight now.
I left with 3 carry-ons, a 16 month
old child, bruises and broken bones. Trudging busted and battered through 3
airports no one assisted until Cincinnati. She came up to us with an angelic
yet knowing smile and our bags. With no words exchanged we ran to the last and final
gate home, we made it. Now believe it or not came the tough part, resisting the
urges to return, survive the horrific nightmares, and pull every shred of
courage together to stand up to his evil threats.
On paper, the chain of ownership was
broken; the divorce was final in 1992. The chain of fear remained attached as
the nightmares and terrors continued to surround me. Dating came with distrust,
waiting for that “flash of evil” from any one of them. Trauma and terror really
do something to a person, and if you can just take the time, walk through it
with them once.