My Story: Chapter Two
Denial and a Slow Awakening
Was he really abusive?
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“Abusers are statistically most likely to kill their target after being served with a temporary order of protection.” ~ Julia Freeman
The Friday before I arrived at the shelter I had called the domestic violence hotline to talk with someone to help me understand how my life had been turned upside down. I was asked a few questions to gauge how much danger I was in. I answered yes, that he had access to guns. Then she asked me if he had ever put his hands around my neck and I answered no. She said I was still at a high risk of death and if I had answered yes to the last question I would have been at the highest risk.
That question haunted me all weekend as I fled my home and hid in a hotel room with my children.
As I drove to the shelter on Monday I realized the answer was “yes”. He had put his hands around my neck during sex. It had shocked me the first time he did it. I made up an excuse as to why he shouldn’t do it again and he eventually stopped. After he stopped I still imagined his hands coming towards me. I realize now I was having PTSD during sex with him.
I sat in the office the afternoon I arrived at the shelter to fill out intake papers. I thought I would need to stay at the shelter for a week and then I could go home. I would be granted an order of protection and then my husband would get help. I would soon resume my stay-at-home-mom life.
I filled out the intake papers while in a daze, a mind full of confusion as I read each question. One stopped me in my tracks. How did I write my husband’s name on the line asking for the name of my abuser? I wasn’t abused. I was just told to leave town for a few days while he was served with a temporary order of protection.
He wasn’t abusive was he? He just had a temper when he drank and sometimes acted violently, throwing things, yelling. Sometimes I threw things out of frustration at how powerless I felt.
Writing his name on the line for abuser was the first step of admitting something was wrong with my marriage and my husband. I had been treated horribly by the one who had vowed to love and cherish me so long ago.
I lived in confusion for days after filling out the intake papers. I wandered into the office to ask the women who worked at the shelter questions about abusive relationships. I told them things that had happened and asked if it had been abuse. I confessed things I had done and was told it was reactive abuse.
I received a power and control wheel, glanced at it, and then hid it under my other papers so my children wouldn’t find it. I wasn’t ready to face that power and control wheel for more than a couple of minutes a day. Every time I read the tactics he used to control me I explained them away. I thought I would go back home and then I wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.
During my first week at the shelter the women there slowly introduced the idea that I might be there for a lot longer than one week. Their suspicions were that my husband was probably already in a relationship with someone else and a divorce might be in my future.
I fought against all of these things and held onto my belief that I still loved the man I had married. I didn’t realize that man had never existed and it was time to face the complete truth of who he was. I had to face myself and what I had become as I twisted myself into some impossible mold for so long to please my husband.
National Domestic Violence Hotline 1–800–799–7233 (SAFE)
