Domestic Violence - Personal Perspective

Why is domestic violence such a private phenomenon and why do its victims feel such shame because of it?  I am truly trying to understand this.  A woman or man for that matter is abused/injured/belittled by one they love and yet the initial reaction of the victim is to protect that person.  Don't get me wrong, I am not trying to cast blame in one direction or another.  I was in such a situation for many years myself and I wish I fully understood the psychology of an abusive relationship.  A friend was murdered by her estranged husband earlier this week.  I am devastated for her family, especially the three children she leaves behind, but also her parents and her brothers and sisters.  She touched so many lives.  She was a Nurse Administrator here locally and I have thought of her often as I have worked to continue my education.  The last time I saw her, a couple of years ago, she gave me such wonderful words of encouragement.  I have been a mess thinking of this dear woman whom I have nothing but love and respect for.  It is like a locked part of my brain has opened and a flood of memories is pouring out.  It takes me back to a hot August night almost 15 years ago.  It was sweltering in the old home I lived in.  All the doors and windows were locked tight.  Despite the heat I did not dare turn on a fan or the old window A/C unit we had for fear that I would not hear the slightest sound of trouble coming.  I think that may be the only time in my life where I truly feared for my own life. I lay there imagining the end of my life.  But I did not call the police.  Instead, in my exhausted state, I struggled to stay awake all night, hoping that the light of dawn would bring with it some kind of comfort and relief.

My marriage had been in trouble for a while.  Eric, my husband at the time, and I could barely have a conversation without it escalating into an argument.  I think we both saw the end coming, but neither of us knew what to do about it.  We had a silent agreement, one that had been reached earlier in our marriage.  When my first daughter Adrienne was only 9 months old he nearly killed me.  I don't even remember what happened that caused this violence to erupt, but I had retreated to my daughters room and he followed me in and I remember thinking had I been a little weaker at that time, he would have killed me right there in front of her.  He certainly had the strength and the rage to do it.  Somehow I got away, grabbed my baby and locked myself in the bathroom.  He kicked the door several times, putting holes in it and told me to open the door or he would kill me.  I believed him.  So I opened the door.  Seeing our daughter crying in my arms seemed to have a calming effect on him and he left.  At the time he had two best friends. One was a police officer, the other a drug addict.  I thought he was going to his police officer friend and getting help, but instead chose the other.  When he came home we did not discuss what had happened, but later in the week, I was somehow strong enough to make it clear that if he EVER hurt me again or my daughter, that would be the end. He would have to leave immediately and there would be no question that the marriage was over.  We both lived together many more years with this agreement between us, though it was never spoken of again.  At the time I don't think I ever told a soul about this. If we were going to stay married, I did not want people thinking bad things about my husband.  I felt this insane need to protect the man who had tried to kill me. I felt so much shame about this incident.  I was still so young, not yet 20 years old.  Here was a man who had manipulated me, isolated me and controlled me for the past few years of my life.  I did not want to have to admit to anyone else that I was so weak, that I had let this happen to me.

Fast forward to the last day he lived in our home.  Some kind of disagreement we had pushed him over the edge and right there in the kitchen, in front of our children, he once again became violent, knocking me to the ground and hitting me continuously.  I will forever be grateful that it was me and only me he focused his rage on.  But there it was, we both knew he had to leave and after some empty apologies and promises it would never happen again, he did leave. So that was it, our marriage was over.  I called my sister Megan, who quickly drove out to my home in Forest Grove to be sure I was OK.  There was not a lot to say, but she was there for me and she was the one who let my family know what was going on. I was far too ashamed to talk to anyone else about it.  After she left I locked everything up, which was pointless since he still had his key, and called a domestic violence hotline. I remember the woman who answered was very kind and asked if I was in any immediate danger.  I told her no and she suggested I call the police anyway. But his best friend was still on the force and I did not have any kind of faith that they could or would help me.  I put my sweet children to bed and though I was hot and sweaty and in terrible pain, I did not shower.  I was sure I would come out to find my children gone.  It was dark and I laid down in my bed in the sweltering heat and listened to every sound.  My parents were out of town at the time and I seriously thought about going to stay in their home.  It is hard to believe I actually worried he would find us there and the last thing I wanted was for my parents to come home and find me dead in their home.  The anger, hatred and rage I saw in his eyes that evening left no doubt that he could snap and come back and there was little I could do to stop him.

Thinking back on this, I feel incredibly ridiculous for not calling the police.  I could have requested someone else come to my house rather than his friend to take the report, but really, short of posting someone outside my door, what would that have done anyway?  I should have done more to be sure my children were safe, but I honestly did not imagine he would hurt the kids.  Many times in the years after he left I feared he could snap and come take it out on me.  I am blessed that this has never happened to me, but it does happen. It happened to Cindy. Her plans for a new life in Las Vegas next month will never happen and it breaks my heart!

Why is it that so often in these situations, where one spouse kills the other after the break-up, no one has seen it coming?  Why are these things kept so private?  I remember a month or so after this last violent experience, I took Jacob in for an appointment with his doctor because I was worried about his development. In the normal course of questions the doctor asked about any violence witnessed in the home and I did tell him what had happened.  I remember how angry my ex-husband got when he went in to see the doctor the next month and knew by his demeanor that he knew about the violence.  He actually asked me, very angrily, if I had told the doctor, as if it was not my place to be spreading stories about our marriage. I remember he angrily announced he would have to find another doctor.  And this was not something I went out and shared with everyone. It was still humiliating to me that I had let myself be injured, not once, but twice.  Looking back now I feel good that I was strong enough that twice was all it took, but at the time I never considered the years of emotional abuse.  But had I been hurt day after day, why should I have felt shame about it?  Why is it that as women we cannot say, "I am married to an immature JERK, who cannot control his emotions and who feels it is ok to hit/kick/strangle the person he has promised to love and take care of"?  Instead we wonder what we have done to bring this upon ourselves and we feel we have to hide it from the world. What can be done to help girls growing up today to recognize that this is not acceptable behavior in a marriage and that it can and should be shared with anyone who will listen? I am editing this post to include that as my friend just pointed out to me, how can we raise sons who are emotionally secure enough to find healthier ways to deal with their anger?

I have never openly shared this story in its entirety. But I have learned that sometimes, in sharing our own experiences, we can help others see that they are not alone. Perhaps by sharing my story of an abusive relationship, I can actually help change how others view domestic violence, whether it is there own experience, or that of someone they love.