My nightmare started about 17 years ago. I met this boy when I was in middle school, and I really liked him because he was quiet just like me. We started dating and about a year and a half later, our baby girl was born. I was only 16 years old at the time, but I was so excited. Everything between us was fine up to the point I had our daughter. It didn't matter what I said to him, he would take it wrong at hit me. I lived with my parents at the time and I should've went and told them what was happening but I wanted to protect the very thing that was hurting me.
It got to the point that if I wasn't intimate with him when he wanted, he would sit and hit me until I finally gave in. I remember sitting in the corner of my bedroom taking all those beatings. I would go over to his house, and the same kind of thing would happen there. I remember his mother had a baby monitor, and it was on so I know she could hear everything going on but I think she was scared of him just like I was. I finally had enough a year after my daughter was born and I moved on.
Well, as it turns out I went from one bad relationship to another. With this boy I remember a time we had drove to one of his friends houses. He took the keys to my car, started hitting me, and busted my car mirror. All because I asked to go home to my daughter... I sat in my cold car for a couple of hours asking myself why I would put up with this. I was so scared to tell anyone.
A year later, I met a new man... He treated both me and my daughter beautifully. We ended up getting married and welcomed another perfect little girl to our family. I remember the first time things started turning bad. I was upstairs cleaning my kids toy room and he kept telling me to get out of the room. I didn't really understand why so I refused. He ended up coming up the stairs and dragging me down them to get me out of that room. I found out later it was because he had hidden drugs and didn't want me finding them.
One night we went on a family adventure up North, when we finished our outing he started drinking heavily. I was on the freeway and I guess I said something he didn't agree with, it made him extremely mad. He grabbed the steering wheel and yanked it so hard that we almost hit the cement barrier. I turned to look at him and he slammed my head against the car window. I had the courage to quickly pull into a gas station, where I told him to get out. He jumped out of the car and grabbed my youngest daughter, but I wasn't about to leave without her. I convinced her to get back in the car with me and we left. I found a cop a few miles down the road and told him what had happened. When they went back to pick him up, he was nowhere to be found. I headed home with both my girls, I just wanted them, and myself to be safe.
I woke up the next morning to him in my house. I told him he couldn't be there, and the cops were looking for him. He ran at me and started choking me. After what felt like forever I mustered up the strength to kick him off me, and he left.
Things mellowed out for a few years, but then the insanity started again, attack and assault again and again...Things were out of control. I remember a time when he pointed a gun at my forehead and cocked it back... when I looked into his eyes, there was just nothing. No emotions, no feelings, nothing... After running from the law for what seemed like forever, the police finally caught up to him, and he went to prison for four years, which helped him with his recurring drug problem.
I will never get closure from my first abuser because he passed away. It's very hard for me to even tell my story. I have a lot more I should share, but I struggle still to this day. I have PTSD because of them, hearing and seeing a loaded gun against your head is something you never get over. I was so much like my dear friend Kammy. I didn't want anyone to know what was going on because I loved these men more than I loved myself. For the people out there who can't seem to find the strength to get help, you can do it, and I pray and hope you do. Listen, My dear friend lost her life because she didn't get the help she needed.