Positive Outlooks

Before I begin this month's blog, I would just like to ask you to take a minute to remember all of those who perished on this day in 2001. Please remember all of families whose lives were forever changed and the heroes who emerged that day to fight for freedom.

As I was perusing the internet, I came across a fb page called Positive Outlooks. It's full of inspirational stories and quotes, which we can all find useful as we get through our day. I read this story that I want to share with you. It's about a woman whose husband was an abuser. It's more than just a sad story of what she went through. It's about encouragement for those in these situations to find their voice and their courage to leave an abusive relationship. Only then can the healing begin.

Positive Outlooks by Donna 3/28/18

It has been a day of reflection for me. I wondered how I would feel when this day came. I could relive those awful memories of my husband slamming my head into the tile floor in front of our son or of the police handcuffing my husband and putting him in the back of the police SUV. Or I can focus on the positive changes in my life since that terrible night.

First, how did I get here to this day? I didn’t realize that what my husband was doing was abuse at first. He wasn’t punching me in the face and giving me black eyes. So, it couldn’t be abuse, right? It started with him grabbing me by arms during arguments and leaving bruises.

One time he threw a beer bottle across the room at me. I ducked and the bottle shattered on the TV damaging the TV in the process. Eventually, it escalated to pushing me and then shoving me up against the wall during arguments. I don’t even know what the arguments were about anymore. One night, I woke him up getting into bed. He was so mad he hit me in the stomach twice then threw me out of bed. I went to the sofa to sleep.

There was emotional abuse as well. Periodically, he would take our son, a baby at the time, to run some errand to the grocery store. He would be gone hours. I would try to call and he would never answer. I would worry they were in a wreck, or in the dark recesses of my mind I wondered if my husband had kidnapped my son.

Eventually, they would come home with some excuse they went to the park or a long drive, etc. He did this continuously, even though I asked for him to just answer the phone and let me know. I realize now it was all about controlling me.

Like with sex. Sex was awful. He forced me to have sex and held me in position, never caring that I was hurting or uncomfortable and obviously not enjoying it. It was never about me. It was always a selfish, controlling and aggressive act.

It has been difficult for me to get my head wrapped around the idea that I was being abused. While, I was not beaten regularly, I was controlled, made to feel insignificant, and pushed and shoved around.

And then finally the last straw.

It was the day after Christmas. We were home relaxing. I was reading a book and he was watching football. We had made chili. We had both been drinking some wine. He had some beer earlier with a buddy while watching football. Our son was at the kitchen table eating. I was trying to talk to my husband about something.

He got pissed I was interrupting his game, and grabbed my leg right about the knee and squeezed hard to get me to shut up. My reflex action was to grab his thumb and pull his hand off. Apparently, when I pulled his thumb back I hurt him. He was so mad, he started yelling and calling me names. He called me a “stupid cow.” (He’s British and stupid cow is an extremely degrading term.)

At that, I throw my glass of wine in his lap and walked off. Should have I done that? Probably not, but I walked away. That is when he came after me. He grabbed and threw me to the floor. I landed halfway between the kitchen and the laundry room. He then stood over top of me and started to slam my head into the tile floor. At this point, my son walked up and was crying.

My husband turned to grab him. I didn’t know what he was going to do, so I grabbed my son and ran into the office. I thought about leaving and driving to my mom’s. But I realized, “No. This is it. I’m not going to let him get away with this anymore.”

And I called the police. The police came to our house, arrested him and kept him in jail for the mandatory 48 hours. I felt guilty, betrayed, sad, and scared. But I knew deep down I did the right thing.

And this is how I began my journey of healing, learning, letting go and forgiveness. People talk about forgiveness and acceptance. One thing my journey has taught me is that forgiveness is not a one-time deal. You don’t forgive the person that has caused you harm and then life is peachy.

I must continuously forgive.

Forgiveness is an ongoing process.

We're here if you need us.

~The Farmington Hills High Risk Response Team