Forever Broken

by RW
(Martinsville, Indiana)

I married a Canadian at the age of 18 and moved from everyone and everything I had ever known. We were so happy or so I thought.

We stayed with his sisters until we found an apartment. While staying with my new in-laws I found out that my husband had tried to commit suicide a few years before, the reason being he had suffered from mental and physical abuse his whole childhood. Seems to run in his family, I should have packed up and moved back to Indiana but I had no idea about abuse and had no idea what was in store for me.

I loved him so much and everything seemed great. We were married in May and it was a fairytale until October. I do not remember the reason he got mad, but I do remember the first act of violence was that he threw a sandwich in my face. I was shocked but had no idea of what that meant. I was young and very green. It was not long before the horrible name calling, degradation, and hitting started.

I did not tell a soul, I was embarrassed and ashamed. Of course I was told it was my fault and I believed it. It seemed like no matter what I did it was not right, if I argued back it was my fault, if I kept my mouth shut I would still be hurt. He hit walls often, of that I was glad since it meant I was not being the one getting hit. At first he would be violent when he had been drinking which was quite often, but I used it as an excuse to make it not seem so bad but as the years wore on he started hitting me when he was not drinking and that is when I got really scared. After about 4 years of marriage my husband tried to commit suicide and ended up in a mental hospital. For the first time I thought he was going to get help, but I was wrong. He was finally released and of course he did not go back for counseling and life went on as before.

I lied myself through black eyes, bruises and a lot of pain. I lied to myself as well, I got really good at believing that each beating would be my last but the next beating would only be worse. I was so uneducated on domestic violence but not once did I feel safe about getting help or calling the police on him. I had no self-confidence. Heck, I could not remember what it was like to believe in myself. I loved him still and just felt it was my lot in life. I felt like I must have done something really bad to deserve the way things were.

Finally after over 9 years I realized I was going to die if I did not get help. It was hard, but I made him move out and agreed to let him come home on weekends to see if we could work things out. I was so ignorant as things just got worse. In fact it escalated things and the violence got worse each weekend. In fact one weekend he choked me, the only thing that stopped him was that my little dog jumped in between and barked and snapped at him, finally he let go. My neck was bruised. You could see where his fingers had been. I had to wear a scarf on my neck for a week. I ended up getting my own studio apartment and did not let him know where I lived and did not let him have my phone number, but he kept calling my friends and getting them to call me and have me call him. He was getting drunker and drunker and was falling and getting hurt and ended up in hospital several times.

I finally decided I needed to move back to the states, thought it was best for the both of us. By this time we had been married for ten years. It was the hardest thing I had ever done. After about 4 months of being back in the states he committed suicide by hanging. To this day I have not gotten over this part of my life. I have moved on, but it has not been easy. I have had several failed marriages since. To this day I am not very trusting. I do not let many people in my life. I do not want many people in my life. Until recently I did not realize that I am still very broken. I am married to someone that is really good to me. But I think at times I feel I do not deserve to be happy and try to jeopardize things.

I have been watching the Jodi Arias trial and that is what made me realize that I am not healed. I take offense to her claim that he abused her, I do not see it. Anyway it has made me really see me as I am and I am lost about what to do. My first husband died in 1985 so that shows how long the effects on abuse can last. I am hoping that by writing this it will help me. God Bless to all who have been abused. I will also add that no matter how bad my abuse was that I not once thought of hurting or killing him. Thank You for reading this.