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Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Continued tolerance...

Working full time and coming home to yard work and maintaining the house, dirt track races on the weekend and much time spent on the river banks made things tolerable for me. I had become accustomed to insults, critism and constant belittling and passed my time working in the yard and playing with our beagle. Many times I had thought about leaving, but where was I going? I settled for what I had. I held onto every positive, happy moment in my life and accepted it. In my mind, he had made a vast improvement over the previous years and I loved living in the log house on the mountain ~ my serenity as much as it could be...

The log house was gorgeous and comforting, although the winters were cold and harsh, as it seemed every crack within the log walls allowed the cold air to chill our home. The logs were D shaped and had insulation strips between them. The woodstoves we had simply could not heat the entire home. The addition had a cathedral ceiling with tongue and groove and exposed beams and the heat loved to linger there.

Seemed as though things were falling into place, as much as they could with someone who was always in pain and constantly taking it out on me... but I was strong and endured... and appreciated what God had blessed me with...

Wedding day... our first home...

The wedding was small and performed in a church that did not allow music. Guests consisted of friends of Charlie's and the neighbors. One of Charlie's best friends gave me away, the bride's maid was a friend that he grew up with and another lit the candles before the wedding started. Aside from Charlie hesitating and asking the preacher to repeat what he was supposed to say, it went fairly smoothly. It was surreal. I had no one there for me and it was my own fault.

After the wedding and a couple of days visiting his friends and ridge running, we came back home to VA. Things had settled down to some degree... the assaults went from him hitting me to him throwing objects at me and using his words to cut through me. I thought this was a GREAT improvement over what I had been experiencing and saw it as him attempting to change.

We both had full time jobs and were able to save $10,000.00 by saving every penny. We had found a fishing shack in WV that we saw great potential in and that was to be our dream home. The owner allowed us to spend the night in it and although it was tiny and needed much TLC, we were extremely excited about purchasing our first home.

After our move to WV, we focused on remodeling and adding onto the small once empty cabin. We fixed it up enough to get a loan against it and were able to build a huge log addition onto it. Every paycheck that I earned was used to purchase hardwood flooring, bathroom furnishings, ceiling fans, carpet, insulation and everything else required to finish our addition to get out from under the high interest construction loan we were paying on. It certainly paid off, as the bank appraised it much higher than we both anticipated and we were able to get a great interest rate on our mortgage loan.

I married him...

He continued to come around me. He lived to find me, beg with me, plead with me, stalk me. Where were my parents? My parents did not like the fact that I moved out at 18. I was so done with them and would have moved out sooner if I could have. I did call them after the kitten episode and my mother told me to follow my heart. As I sat in the living room, on my knees crying, that was the best she could do... My girls know to this day, if ANY guy EVER laid a hand on them, they would be gone so fast and I would be certain they never came around them again... no matter what... My friends who I always disappointed because I let him back into my life, were there, just not in the capacity of discussing my relationship with Charlie...

Charlie and I took a drive out to the park, walked hand in hand on an old boarded trail and he asked me to marry him. I was 19. I was so tired of fighting to be away from him. I was so worn down. Besides, what is the worst thing that could happen? Didn't it already happen? Maybe if he was married to me, I could sleep at night, knowing that he was next to me and not lurking outside my window or waiting near my car the next morning. Wouldn't it be easier just to cave in and stop trying to get him away from me? Wouldn't the devil in my life be easier to deal with in front of me always?

More of the same...

Our dates were fun... with Charlie, I had the highest highs and the lowest lows. He could put me down in an instant and make me feel like a million dollars the next. He bought food for our kitchen cabinets that were empty in the townhouse and filled my gas tank, which I had mastered driving on the last fumes... He was winning my heart and if not my heart, he was controlling my life, my movements, my thoughts, my feelings...

One night after work at the Hecht Co., I decided to buy him some new jeans and shirts. When I arrived home and turned on my light to my bedroom, he was in my bed. He raised up and started screaming at me. He was a welder and had flash burn (so he claimed) and the light bothered him. He came towards me and shoved me, yelling at me because I was late coming home. He grabbed the bag of clothes that I had purchased for him and threw them across the room. He knocked over a plant, spilling dirt everywhere and pounded his fist on my bird cage and busted it. His eyes turned hard and cold and he bent down and swooped up my new kitten and threw it across the room. My kitten hit the door frame, where my walk in closet door was open, and fell onto the carpet. As I rushed to pick it up, blood was coming out of his tiny mouth and out of his bottom. He was limp, like a wet wash cloth in my hand.

My heart fell and raced at the same time. Another nightmare within seconds was unfolding in front of me... I screamed for my roommates and Mitch threw him out of the townhouse. Mitch's girlfriend at the time, worked for a vet and I drove the dying kitten there. I stayed up through the night and when the vet's office opened, I went in to see my kitten. It was walking around its tiny cage, banging its head against the cold metal. Its eyes were crossed and I asked for it to be put to sleep.

I told Charlie, no more... never ever again under any circumstance did I want him to come near me. He continued to show up. He continued to call me. He continued to lurk across the parking lot where I worked. Restraining order? PLEASE. This was the early 80s... cops wanted you to file a complaint, yet there was no protection or guarantee that they could protect you from the monsters lurking and stalking you. Calling the police and going to court only fueled the fire...

I met up with a friend at the bar. Charlie had followed me there. Another friend tipped me off that Charlie was there and I ran out to get into my Mustang. I could not get into my car fast enough. Charlie grabbed me by my hair and pulled me to the ground. He was screaming at me and yelling at me and I managed to get into my car and lock my door. He jumped onto the hood of my car, stomped on it and kicked my windshield in. I started my car and he jumped off. I drove as fast as I could, not sure where I was going. I saw a cop in a shopping center and pulled over for help. They told me to drive to the station, file a complaint, and make sure that I had pictures of the damage done to the car. I did just that... While driving to the station, I rubbed my head and ran my fingers through my hair. I was scared to see the tremendous amount of long blonde hair in my hand. I dropped it to the floor and cried.

Meanwhile, Charlie is still lurking, calling, popping up right behind me when I turn around at work, telling me how sorry he was, crying, and never ever leaving me alone. I was relieved when the court date came. Funny thing is, he got more time for hurting my kitten than he did assaulting me. Where was the justice? 500 hours of community service and he walked out smiling. I did have a witness show up from the glass company that replaced my windshield. I remember him telling the judge that he vacuumed more hair out of my car than he did glass. Amazing the words that stick in your head forever...

I'm Sorry

I did not ever want to see Charlie again, but he continued to show up. He showed up at my home, he showed up at my job and he pleaded with me to go out with him again... to give him another chance. He told me he was so sorry and cried and started opening up to me about all that he had experienced growing up as a child.

When Charlie was two, his mother left him and his 3 siblings. His older brother has filled in the blanks recently to my daughter and I on exactly what happened when they were all very young. Their mother was abused by their father and that is why she left. The children were placed into different homes and Charlie was raised by a very poor lady that had several older children and was an alcoholic. She found company with a man half her age that lived with her until she passed a few years ago. He basically grew up doing what he wanted to do, when he wanted to do it, but always carried with him hatred for his mother, as he felt she abandoned him.

Unless you knew someone or was related to someone that already had a job in one of their few plants there, you did not have work. Many people were in the union and waited on long lists for their turn to work, and the money they made had to be used to live off of the rest of the year while they were waited to be called upon again. Charlie packed up his bag and left there and went to VA looking for work. He had moved in across the street from where I lived and that is how and where we met...

Being the naive, trusting 19 year old that I was, and growing up in a home that I witnessed my father consistenly hit my mother, I was reluctant but accepted Charlie's apology at giving him another chance. My roommates and close friends were not thrilled with the idea, nor were my coworkers who saw right through the bruises and the stories I told them about how I received them. I was too embarrassed to tell many how the bruises landed on me. I felt as though I somehow maybe deserved them, especially since that is what I was constantly told.

Self esteem? I had none... I was hit with belts and switches from a forsythia bush through all of my years of growing up as a child. I remember crying alone, so they could not see me weak, rubbing my welts on my legs and thinking how ugly they were on me. I cannot to this day, even tell you why the welts were placed on me. I only remember the pain that I felt that my mom and dad wanted to hurt me in that way... But they loved me, because parents are supposed to love their kids...

My Life... My World...

I was 18, stepping out of my 1980 something Mustang, when a guy walked up to me with a dark tan, black hair and the prettiest hazel eyes you would ever want to look into. That was the first day of the rest of my 18 years with him. He had a huge smile and could charm anyone within 3 feet of him. He asked me if I knew how to hook up cable tv.

I had just stopped dating a guy from Iowa, no less, that was a wrestler in the marine corps and stationed in Quantico. "Steve" had informed me that he had a girlfriend back in Iowa and I really wanted no part of falling for someone that's heart already belonged to someone else... The last thing I wanted at the time was another relationship... and here was "Charlie".

Being the "quick thinker" I was as much as you can be at 18, I informed this gorgeous guy from nowhere that one of my roommates may know how to hook up the cable line. My roommates were guys, two of them in fact. One worked at Taco Hell with me and the other was a bouncer at our local bar called KCs in Manassas. We all three worked together at the Hecht Co. "Steve" and I worked in The Sideboard Restaurant and "Mitch" was a security officer. I thought maybe having guy roommates would deter Charlie from wanting to chat with me further, but he was not bothered by it and came right into the townhouse with me to meet my roommates.

Charlie was from the part of WV that many would never see. The huge mountains and small homes, all with front porches and built along creeks, pronounced "cricks" there, was an extremely rural area and definitely backwoods country. He was the high school football and basketball star and everyone in town knew him. One of my first trips back there with him consisted getting ready to go to "town". When he proceeded to drive 80 yards and park in front of a small building that had a sign that read Library on it, I began to wonder when we were going to go to "town". A few of his friends stopped and parked next to us, catching up on the time he had been gone and when they left I asked him when we were going to town. After about five minutes of laughing at me, he informed me that we were there. This small town didn't have a red light and one main street was the town.

It was not immediately evident that Charlie had any issues or the slightest sign of a temper. He was very congenial and everyone that met him, loved to hear his stories told with his thick country accent and his smile and laugh made everyone feel comfortable and at ease with him. One evening, I let Charlie drive my Mustang and when he proceeded to turn left on a green light in front of oncoming traffic without waiting for the green arrow, my mouth flew open and I started laughing and informed him this was not Walnut Grove and the green arrow was not on for him to turn left. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, his fist went up against the side of my head and I saw stars. At first, I was simply dazed, not understanding or grasping what had just happened to me. Again, another hit from his fist and repeatedly until I realized that I needed to get out of the car, jump out if I had to... He grabbed my arm and would not let me out. I bent over and took off my high heeled pump and started hitting him with it. It wasn't until then that he stopped. He drove me back to my townhouse and carried me into my bedroom. Dazed, hurt and confused, I started to scream for my roommate. He blocked my bedroom door and held his hand tightly over my mouth. I told him I was hurt and needed to go to the emergency room, so he drove me there...

By the time I had gotten to the emergency room, the entire side of my face, ear and head were a deep dark red, purple color. The ER doctor wanted to do an xray on my head and as I sat crying in disbelief, I really just wanted to die. I told him no I would be okay and thought at that point if I had a blood clot or something in my head, that maybe I would simply die in the nightmare that had only just begun.