Monday, January 13, 2014

Better Everyday

It gets better everyday. This is my response to people when they ask me how I'm doing. It's cliche, but it's the truth. I really do feel like it gets a little better each day. I think about him a little less, I worry about him a little less, I think about myself a little more and I heal just a smidge more everyday. Unfortunately there are two things that still hang over my head. The divorce (which is really just a formality given the situation, but still a big deal) and the trial (if there actually is going to be one). As of now the trial date is set for January 27th, however, if he accepts a plea deal before then the trial won't happen. which also means that I won't have to testify again. I was implicitly clear to the Assistant district Attorney that I didn't want to testify. I had to do that at his preliminary hearing and it was a nightmare.
Here's a little bit of back story, without getting into too many uncomfortable details. The day I left was September 3rd 2013. It was the second day of a two day long off and on assault which was brought on by his impatience and anger, mixed with him not taking his meds for his schizoaffective disorder and what I speculate (after what I found when I cleaned out the apartment) may have been cocaine, which he had never done before during our relationship (as far as I knew). The first time he hit me that morning, I know I had to get out. If I didn't, he would have killed me, either by accident or on purpose, I wasn't sure, but I didn't care. my self preservation kicked in and I had to save my life.

Before this point I didn't think I could leave, or didn't want to leave because I loved him; but the evil I saw in his eyes that day was something I will never forget. And the horrific things he put me through were also unforgettable and I knew there was no coming back. I got it in my head that I would tell him I was going to work and instead I would go to the hospital. Luckily, he didn't try and stop me from leaving, but playing this sick fucking mind game, and telling him I would see him later was beyond difficult. I knew that the next time I would see him that he would be in handcuffs and standing in a courtroom. I think somewhere inside he knew that I wasn't coming back either.
My Grandmom met me in a Kmart parking lot, where I had been sitting, sobbing on the phone with my Mom. My Grandmom took me to the hospital and my best friend Crystal met me there as well. I called Crime Victims Center for an advocate and I also called the police. while waiting for everyones arrival i went through the medical process of MRI's and x-rays for my injuries. I had multiple abrasions, cuts and bruises, including a huge bruise on my arm and a sprained shoulder from where he hit me with a broomstick a huge bump on my head where he hit me with a twelve inch  metal knife sheath, and it was incredibly hard to move and breath because he punched me ridiculously hard in the ribs, and not only bruised me but injured me pretty badly internally.
When the officer got there, he took pictures and I wrote a statement. I knew I wanted to press charges. It was the only way to get him out of the house, away from my cats, and away from me. I also wanted him to be held accountable for what he did to me. It was a terrifying, incredibly tumultuous and emotional day. Back and forth from Crime Victims Center to the court house where I was able to obtain a protection from Abuse order against him. When I dropped off my statement at the police station later, He had already been arrested and his bail was set to $50,000 cash (thanks to the officer and the judge) to assure that he couldn't get out. I couldn't stand the thought of staying in my apartment so I asked my grandmom to watch my two cats and that night I stayed with crystal and her girlfriend.

As emotional as I was that day and night I was also at peace, it was weird. I felt sad, and angry, and scared and ashamed, but I also felt so much happiness about the fact that I was free. The freedom I felt that night is something I will never forget. I never had to worry about him putting his hands on me ever again. And that was the best feeling of all. I felt liberated and safe and at that moment, that was all that mattered. The next day, I went down to visit my Mom. I could have stayed with my Grandparents, or with Crystal or in a safe house, but the only place I felt safest was 2 1/2 hours away from the life I knew, with my Mom. Istayed there for about 4 days, and made the decision to quit my job and also to move out of PA. I wanted to be as far from where the abuse happened as possible. He was also in prison about 15 minutes away from the apartment and that made me nervous. So I did what I had to do.

I came back to PA for the preliminary hearing. I was confidant that morning, that i could get through it. While awaiting the hearing the officer said that my husband had seven charges against him, 5 misdemeanors and 2 felonies, including aggravated assault and aggravated assault with a deadly weapon. The weapon was the 12 inch buck knife. I was in awe of the charges. I was there for the assault obviously, and i knew very well what he had put me through, but I had spent so long minimizing the abuse that I had no idea how truly horrendous what he had done to me actually was. Because the state decided to bring up four more charges against him, I was told I would have to testify...in front of him. At that moment all of my confidence went out the window and I was terrified. I knew he would be in Shackles and that he couldn't hurt me, but I still had to see him, and even worse I had to sit on that stand and re-tell the story of what he had done to me, with him sitting right there. It was as horrible as I imagined it would be and I was a mess. Luckily he wasn't allowed to look at me, but that didn't stop him from rattling his chains and coughing  loudly to try and intimidate me and my lawyer. My testimony ended and the court dropped two of the four new charges, but kept the $50,000 cash bail. He is facing nine charges now, and if it goes to trial and he is convicted, he could be facing up to ten years in prison.
While I am safe, and far away from where my nightmare took place, it is still a struggle. It's four months later and some of my bruises were so deep that they just healed. not to mention the psychological trauma. I have been diagnosed with moderate depression and PTSD. I am currently on an antidepressant/anti-anxiety medicine that is certainly helping, but can't take away what happened. It has been very hard for me to separate myself from the love I had for him. You would think that after everything I went through that I would have stopped loving him long ago, but it's nowhere near that easy. The love is fading, and I'm less sad about us, and him, but not a day goes by where I don't think about him and what we used to have.
But I made my decision the day I left, and unlike a lot of victims, I chose never to go back. I know that on September 3rd, we were done forever.
I am grateful for the strength I had and continue to have. That strength is what allows me to wake up everyday feeling confidant in my decision to leave, and that same strength saved my life.


While the road I'm traveling is confusing and sometimes really sad, and so fucking hard, it is also liberating, and filled with a happiness that I never thought I would feel again. I have a long way to go, and I will have good days and bad days, but the cliche is true, it really does get  better everyday.

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