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Sunday, June 28, 2009

One Foot Still In the Door

Charlie found a place to live, but asked if he could keep his things in the garage. I didn't see any harm in that, not realizing at the time that he simply wanted to keep one foot in the door, as he continued to find excuses to come over because he needed something out of the garage.

A mutual friend of his and mine, who Charlie grew up with, had just gone through a divorce himself and was trying to "help" me understand that I could not wash Charlie's clothes for him and do little things for him because he was mistaking my kindness as a weakness to continue to be in my life. I was torn about this, but later realized that this was very true.

Charlie was very cooperative. He was paying the bills and coming over to get the girls to spend time with them and seemed as though he was truly making an effort to change. He was still going to therapy and was keeping me up to date on his progress, all the while still pleading with me to give him one more chance. Seventeen years of marriage... one more chance... Would I ever regret not giving him ONE MORE CHANCE?

The paperwork came for the hearing date for the divorce. I caved. I drove to the courthouse and let them know that I would not be continuing the divorce proceeding. I allowed him to move back in and within one week, he was back to his old self again. I could not believe it. I received a call from one of my job applications, and after a very positive interview, started a new job and in the same breath, told Charlie to get back out of the house. I filed for divorce again, kicking myself for not keeping a copy of the first packet that I filled out only a few months prior.

Why was Charlie so willing to leave? Many people were told by him and think that it was out of the "goodness of his heart" that he "gave" the house to me. In reality, he received over $40,000.00 cash and his untouched retirement benefits, which I was entitled to share, all of his almost 900 hours of PTO time, half the amount of alimony that the court ordered him to pay and all of his guns, which value at well over $20,000.00 or more. I received the house... no cash... but was happy to be able to keep the house for the girls and me. Charlie knew he was guilty of abuse... guilty of years of abuse to me and the girls were old enough to share with the courts and could answer any questions they had in regards to our life with Charlie.

The Beginning of the End

Funny how people say they will change and can change when reality smacks them in the face. I personally do not believe people can change. My life experience and the lives of my very dear friends have shown me that people simply do not change. This is my personal view and if you disagree, that's okay with me.

I mustered up the strength to go down to the courthouse and get a divorce packet. The divorce packet was almost a 1/2" thick and very intimidating. I filled out the divorce packet and asked Charlie to please leave. I had been sleeping in the basement for awhile and I had no desire to allow him to touch me ever again. He cried, pleaded, begged, got on his hands and knees and told me he was sorry and he would change. He told me that he knew that he had hurt me and that he was sorry, over and over and over again... I felt nothing. I had nothing left to give. I had nothing left in my heart. I had to fill out the packet if not for myself, but for my girls.

We had the paperwork notorized and Charlie went to therapy for two or three months. He was determined to show me that he would change. I had filed for divorce and there was not a day in my life at that time, that I did not take the girls to the bus stop and come home and lie in my bed and cry for hours at a time. I had no job. I had no idea what I was going to do financially... I was so confused and lost.... felt so alone and so ashamed of my life and what I had accepted as treatment from a man that didn't deserve the time of day from me, much less two wonderful children. I had to be strong, if not for myself, for my girls. Every day, I would get into the shower and I would cry and pray. The tears of hurt and sorrow washed down the drain and my strength was renewed enough to get me through the day. God's voice, every single day was telling me, "...this too shall pass...". That was my ritual... every day for weeks...

My Second Baby Girl

As I watched my first daughter grow into such a beautiful, sweet child, it weighed heavy on my mind to decide whether or not to have another child for her to share her life with. She was extremely close to me, but as she grew older, she showed a little more interest in her father, who was happier to spend time with her when she was out of diapers and potty trained. He never changed her diapers, so rarely would take her places or do things with her unless I was nearby. Her father loved archery and for Christmas one year, I purchased her a little red bow out of the Sears catalog. With the purchase of her bow, a bond began between her and her father and she loved more than anything to see him smile at her hitting the target. We had started going to 3D shoots and enjoyed the time we shared, walking through the woods and watching everyone in awe of a little girl with a pony tail letting go of a tiny arrow and smacking a target dead on from a few feet away. She was the youngest to ever compete in the IBO World Championship held in Flatwoods, WV approximately 13 years ago.

Archery didn't last long when Charlie started to try to change her and the simple things that she was used to. He began to turn something fun into something he wanted for her and of course, for himself, which was more competition. The fun was replaced with a release and expensive bow that she had no interest in picking up. All she wanted to do was shoot her little red bow without conditions and new equipment. That was the beginning and end of archery for her...

My second daughter was born when my first child was 4. She was a quiet baby and slept all of the time. I remember asking the doctor what was wrong with her. I would find her in various places through the house sleeping... on the floor, at the bar, under her bed... He told me to feel fortunate that she slept, as many babies did not. My second daughter was extremely close to me and seemed to cling to me constantly. She was always a very sensitive little child.

I had become as much of a buffer as I could when it came to disciplining the girls. I knew too well what Charlie was capable of doing and was always on guard and on edge, watching and waiting for every moment and movement that he would make when one of the girls did something that he was not fond of. He was extremely tough on the girls and made them eat at the bar instead of the table with us because he didn't want them getting food or prints on the oak dining room table. Shoes were and had to be left at the side entrance door and he had a sign made that was professionally engraved that read, "PLEASE REMOVE YOUR SHOES. THANK YOU." This sign was placed on the kitchen entry door and when someone did not remove their shoes, I had to hear about it after they left. No eating was ever allowed in the vehicles. He had a habit of kicking their toys out of his path and then screaming about it. If he got annoyed at the girls, he would lift them up by their arms and sling them into their bedrooms.

My oldest daughter started to have coughing spells late at night. Charlie went to bed early and got up very early to go to work. I would take the girls to the basement with a snack and water and keep them down there until bedtime so they would not wake him up. My oldest daughter woke up one night and could not stop coughing. Charlie was livid. He jumped out of bed and screamed at her and yelled that HE had to get up early and could not sleep and slammed the bedroom door. I went in with her and tried to help her stop coughing. I finally decided that I was not able to do anything for her and took her to the ER. The ER doctor immediately diagnosed her with asthma. There were many trips to the ER until I figured out what worked best for her here with her nebulizer and how to control her asthma before it got to the point that she needed an ER trip. This was simply an inconvenience to Charlie and he still would get annoyed at her for coughing and more annoyed at me for not being able to quiet her.

One evening, I walked by my second daughter's room and saw her sitting on her knees on the floor with a Barbie Corvette and scotch tape. I went into her room and knelt down beside her and asked what she was doing. She told me that daddy kicked the car and broke it and she was trying to fix it. At that point, my heart exploded into tiny pieces and the realization came to me that Charlie had not only hurt me, but was hurting my children.

Time To Move

The log house had served its purpose, but the cold winters and maintenance on the logs were a bit more than I cared to continue to deal with, as did Charlie. The winters were so cold and the dusty gravel road that we lived on left a film on everything constantly. Our well had gone dry and we paid to have another drilled that only produced 4 gpm. I wanted to get rid of the house before the second well went dry and I was simply tired of the woodpeckers, bore bees, and money spent on sealant for the exterior...

The property went up for sale and $40,000.00 was profited and put into our new home. I had no regrets and was happy to get rid of the house. It seemed to have drained me emotionally, financially and physically. I had used a hand saw to cut trim for the doors and mopped plywood floors until we were able to afford the walnut flooring that we wanted. The two woodstoves to keep going was overwhelming by myself, especially when Charlie was gone to hunt the huge black bear he never got, or that record breaking white tail deer, and wood had not been carried from down over the hill closer to the house. We had electric baseboard heat, but if you have ever had it, you know that it will eat up electricity and leave you with extremely high electric bills.

I live in the house that we built after we sold the log house. My daughter and I LOVED being in the yard every spring, summer and fall, planting bushes, trees, perennials and annuals. Everything was planted for a reason and in a specific place. I edged every tree and garden and mulched every inch that was bare. Spring was my favorite time of year, as God rewarded me with the most beautiful blossoms on everything I planted. Every spring was a new beginning for my garden, a new year for me and a step further away from the past...

My First Child...

As tormented as I was about my life and what to do next, my "biological clock" was ticking away, so I was told by all of the friends around us that already had children. My logic, as much as it could be called logic, was telling me that things were pretty much as good as they were going to get and the outbursts that were bestowed upon me no longer effected me emotionally, as I had learned to let them bounce off of my heart and memory...

In April, my first baby girl was born. From that moment on, my priorities and my life changed once again. I protected her with all that I had and immediately began preparing her to become and independent little being. Still tucked down inside my heart and the back of my mind, I could not completely diminish the thought that someday Charlie would harm me again. I wanted my child to be ready if anything was to ever happen to me and be able to do things by herself.

At the age of two, she was able to sing her ABCs and speak in complete sentences. She was with me everywhere I went... in the yard, in the house, my constant shadow. She absorbed everything that I had to offer her and then some. She could dress herself and brush her teeth with ease. Sometimes her tiny clothes were on backwards and didn't match that well, but she could get dressed. She learned to brush her long beautiful hair and could pull a chair to the cabinets and counters, under my watchful eyes, to get herself a snack. By the time she went to kindergarten, she was well advanced and very bored in school. She enjoyed helping her peers reach and attain the goals she had met long ago. As she grew older, she continued her successes and habits that she learned at a very young age...

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.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Moved the Computer!


On hubby's only day off, he and I moved my computer to the living room... It was in the bedroom, as we have another in the office... My favorite room in the house is the living room and I am extremely happy to now be in this room much of my day. I took a pic to share with you, but please note that it will most likely never look like this again. By the way, are you vacuuming your tower out on the inside? DON'T DO IT! The computer tech in town advised me not to do that, but to use canned air to clean out the inside and to let your computer sit for at least one hour before turning it on. I love looking out my large window next to me, but now see the tall grass that I need to go mow :) Enjoy your day all and be blessed!