While enduring domestic abuse in a long-ago relationship, I decided it was important for me to write my way through the experience. I’d always been a writer at heart - someone who made sense of my life and the world by committing things to the written word - so it was a natural inclination to turn to the page to help me wrap my mind around the circumstances in which I found myself. I began documenting these occurrences because, after six years of enduring the abuse, I realized I would get what I came to call “abuse hangovers.” By the time an episode would play out and calm (or some version of it) would return, I would have forgotten details, things that were said and done and, most importantly, my feelings and thoughts about the incident as it was happening. This phenomenon made “forgetting” how intensely violent and destructive the abuse was too easy; too easy to just move on and pretend it “wasn’t as bad as all that.” When I could re-read my accounts written in my own words, out of the heat of the moment, I realized the frequency of the events and I came to comprehend with greater and greater awareness that, yes, this really was happening and, yes, it was really bad.
My journaling about this toxic relationship started in the bedroom of the home daycare I ran in the late 1980s immediately following a particularly horrific incident. His name has been changed. Other than that, this is an exact transcript of what I wrote on loose sheets of drawing paper that fateful Tuesday in 1988 when I was moved to write it all out and my habit of documenting my abuse was born. I cringe today at some of the things I wrote: the “passes” and benefit of the doubt I gave him. And oh, the ways I’d bend myself like a pretzel to “understand” or excuse his bullshit! I left it all in, though, so you can see - and maybe recognize- the inner workings of a victim’s mind; how they go above and beyond to try to “make things right” when the truth is, they can’t - because it’s not their fault in the first place.
I’m going to recount to the best of my memory Rick’s violent episode which occurred Tuesday evening, 5 pm in the basement of our home. Rick came downstairs to find Mom drying dishes and told her not to continue because it was putting germs on the clean dishes. He cited some microbiological facts he’d learned at school and told her that doing that was one of the reasons we all had colds. Mom said, ”OK,” put her towel down and went upstairs.
He immediately asked me why she “felt the need to leave right away,” I told him it was probably that she was through downstairs anyway and just thought she’d do that one last thing for me. He started in on the same subject we’d discussed earlier that day - Mom’s “unsanitary” practices. Well, I’d agreed that her standards were not the same as mine and I promised to let her know when I saw her doing something I considered unsanitary. Rick accused me of lying to him and failing to tell mom anything, when in fact I had told her not to dry the dishes. It seemed his reason for coming down was to harp on the same subject and I told him that when I was through cleaning the daycare center for the day I’d go sit down with Mom and him to discuss the problem. That wasn’t good enough for him. “Why should I have to be there when it’s your mom?” I hate It when he backs out of a constructive conversation after getting me all hot and bothered about it. I feel he needs to learn to confront people when they bother him without letting it build up and gather steam - but alas not explode at the scene of the infraction without tempering his response with sound judgement. There’s got to be a balance in there somewhere! That’s just what he kept doing - building up the problem all out of proportion. He soon was calling Mom all sorts of names and he kept lecturing me on the evils of “that old bitch” and how he regretted ever moving into this house with them.
I saw what was happening and told him he needed to go take a pill. He responded so violently that I knew that was just what he needed. He said, “That’s not the point - it’s her and her constant lies that makes me upset.” He then started naming every instance when Mom didn’t do as she said she would (who does live by the motto, “Yes them to death and do as you please”). But when we have in the past confronted her on this willful inconsideration of us, she always has legitimate reasons. Losing patience with his accelerating of the situation, I demanded that he go upstairs and take a pill to put things in perspective. (On the one hand, I don’t blame him for being irate - she can be exasperating! But on the other hand, he blows it so out of proportion that it seems no longer like a problem but like an insurmountable mountain - as if this one issue will affect us for the rest of our lives.) He just kept lecturing loudly and threatening suicide, moving, leaving me, etc. and pacing all around.
Suddenly it was all directed at me. He came up to me, said, “Take a pill!” grabbed my neck and stepped big steps toward me, pushing me backwards. I had to walk with him or he would have hurt my neck. He seemed to direct me backwards toward the pile of cushions. I fell back against it and he clenched my neck and spoke ugly things and growled. I just go limp, close my eyes and make my mind blank. He soon released his grip, we both got up and I continued cleaning.
I don’t remember anything but his ranting and raving - no details and usually I have a real good memory for details. Then I remember he pulled me backwards by my hair. He shook me back and forth, always holding onto my hair. I don’t fight back and if I show I’m crying it sometimes gets worse. He’s never hurt me badly - I’m more like a punching bag and that’s a good way to vent his anger. At least he feels comfortable enough around me to show his emotions. Even though he takes it out on me I know it’s really not me he’s mad at.
Soon afterwards it decelerates. We start to talk again and he calms down. He marched upstairs to get his evening Xanax, came down and said, “Here comes your drone of society!” I remember now he said that several times during it all - “Gina wants her drone!” Then we have a real deep talk, sitting across the room from each other and there are some of the most constructive talks we ever have. I feel like I finally have his attention. I wish we wouldn’t have to go through all that just to put things in perspective. The same thought keeps going through my mind - nobody’s perfect - why does he expect people to be just what he wants them to be to make him happy and not disappoint him. People are themselves and everyone has pet peeves about everyone else. We’re only human. This is real hard to write - I’ve never put words to these things. They were always just blurs in my mind - just there and I never talked about it to anybody.
The original document
It comes out of nowhere. We were sitting trying to calm down and he keeps saying how he wants to die and how he wants to kill his parents for what they’ve done to him. If I don’t talk, he threatens me and yells at me and when I talk I always say the wrong thing. He says I don't understand - I couldn’t understand what they did to him and his mind - his way of thinking. I say I can imagine it well because of how I feel when he gets irrational and violent. He seems sorry for what he does to me and says so - then that he wishes he were dead because he doesn’t want to hurt me anymore.
Then it starts all over again like a circle. Whatever I say makes him mad and he strangles me again. When he stops he says he doesn’t love me and he wants to leave me and I made him give up his career and he could find work somewhere else and he wants to be away from me and my family and he wants to destroy my daycare business like I destroyed his career and I’m no good and stupid and I didn’t cook his supper. He tells me he’s trying to make me angry enough at him that I’ll kill him because he doesn’t have the nerve to do it himself.
I try to retreat to a corner but he barks that I have to look at him when he’s talking and sit up straight and he says if I don’t talk to him he’ll hurt me. I don’t know what to say so I try to agree but he talks so about people who are going to do him wrong, betray him or disappoint him, I try to reassure him that it’s not true and defend those he’s condemning with true facts but he won’t be convinced and in fact it makes him angry again. Finally I told him I couldn’t say anything because whatever I was saying was making him mad and I didn’t want to fight anymore. So I just sat and waited. He walked right behind me and went upstairs. A minute later he came down a little calmer it seemed. I was crying so he told me to leave the room because I was making him feel bad so I went into the bedroom where I am writing this.
These are some subjects that are not covered in the verbal assaults anymore. He has not insulted my looks, my sexuality or housekeeping or compared me to Nancy [his first ex wife] in the last two fights.
I’m sharing this now because it’s my hope that what I wrote all those years ago will resonate with someone who may be going through something similar today - and that they can benefit from reading my experiences as a victim - and future survivor - of an abusive relationship.
Some takeaways I hope such a person might gain:
You are NOT alone in this pain. Too many people have found themselves in this situation and they feel as isolated, scared, confused and disempowered as you do.
It is NOT your fault. Your abuser is using, manipulating and oppressing you. You are not weak, naive, gullible, stupid or needy - they are at fault for treating someone who loves them like that.
There is no shame in admitting you are a victim; you were NEVER wrong for trying to love someone who made it impossible.
Trust YOUR instincts. Do not let them convince you that you’re imagining things, or misunderstanding, or overreacting. Your gut knows when it’s being fucked with - listen to it.
There IS a safe way out. You are not stuck or trapped, even though it may feel that way. Reach out to me (geebee93@gmail.com) and/or the National Domestic Violence Hotline to support you as you step up for yourself - and out of their toxic influence.
Thank you for sharing your experience Gina! I know you will reach and help many people. I am glad you are safe and happy now with a wonderful man💕