Happy Birthday again

I can't believe I let a let a whole year go by without updating once. So much has happened in the past year. I'll update sometime soon.

Dan made a post this morning honoring my birthday and I want to share it here. If it helps one person to think and make a decision to change their circumstances it will be a terrific birthday present for me.
It's concerning domestic violence which is a cause near and dear to my heart because I lived it. This is my own experience. However, often my situation is repeated over and over hundreds of time daily.

The issue needs to come out of the closet and be exposed in the light of day. Abusers will not want you to read my story or anyone else's that tell you there is a way out.
I'm going to tell you the truth, it isn't easy but you can do it.
I'm ordinary; I am just a lady who was a housewife, raised her kids, belonged to PTA, worked at jobs, volunteered. In other words, I did my share of dirty dishes, dirty diapers, laundry and Hamburger Helper back in the days.

Maybe you are like me. I wasn't even aware that my life was filled with abuse until I was ion the thick of it trying to literally save my life.
Usually, you aren't "just in the middle of it one day".
One day may have started when you were a child. Maybe your self esteem and soul were never validated. You weren't allowed to say no because you were female and therefore somehow less important or valuable. You grew up never knowing how to say no because simply you were never taught. Or like in my case, if I dared to say know there were serious repercussions. Some how, somewhere deep inside me there was a tiny dot of independence, survival, and indignant at injustice. I rebelled regardless of the consequences.
I would stand up for my siblings even if I got beat down.
My integrity and character were always in question as if I was the lowest of the low because I dared to stand up to my father. It meant I was going to get the razor strap but it was like the issue was that important. He had other techniques that would lock someone up today for child abuse but was not how it was handled in those days.
He wasn't wrong, I was. I should be more compliant so he wouldn't abuse me.
That set me up for thinking " it's all my fault". All the standard lines abusers use started back in early childhood and if that's all you know it's normal to you. Not pleasant, but normal.
I loved my Dad til the day he died. I saw not just the ugly part of him but the great parts of him. As I got older I learned about the whole man and why he was who he was.
Today, I can't excuse his behavior or say one good thing about it. It was despicable to treat your child, your daughter as he did. He was my role model, my hero. He was the standard by which I would judge all men in my future. if the man who supposedly loved you first and most treated you a certain way surely it was OK if other men in your life treated you the same. No, no, no, no, no. It's wrong. Stinking thinking.
I didn't have have anyone to tell me it's wrong but I'm here now to tell you it's wrong.

I married an abusive, alcoholic man. Really, nothing surprising about it. I did what so many women in my situation do. Somehow, because he was going to college made him seem not so violent and my parents only criteria for him was that he was a " good Catholic boy who was getting an education".
Never, not once was I ever told to marry for love and nothing else. I was never told to to not compromise, to not " settle for".
The few times I ever let on that my husband was abusing me to my parents it became my fault. If I would just shut my mouth, if I would quit making waves, If I would just settle down" as if the abuse was caused by me. It never had anything to do with the abuser.

I'm here to tell you you will never satisfy the abuser. Nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever be enough. It isn't about you, it's about him (and sometimes her). It's his character flaw, his stinking thinking, his screwed up head, his sociopathic behavior. You need to know he doesn't have a conscience even though he may cry and be " sorry" for harming you after it's over. He really wants to believe it at the time. But, it's not true.
It WILL happen again. And again. And again. The statistics say so. Don't be a fool like me and think somehow you aren't a statistic. You are. No fairy came and hit you on the head with her magic wand and saved you from the statistics regardless how much you want to deny it. In fact, the denial is part of the statistics.
Only until you surround yourself with other victims and especially survivors will you know exactly how ordinary in the scope of abuse your situation is.
Domestic violence knows no social, economic, religious, spiritual,or racial background. Abusers can be male and female. They can be black, white, yellow and red. They can have slanted Asian eyes, brown eyes of Hispanic descent, blue eyes of Nordic descent. They can be fat, skinny, in between.
They can be tall or short or average.
They can be a man of the cloth, your letter carrier, your doctor, your next door neighbor, your child's teacher or soccer coach. It could be your mechanic or plumber, your gardener, your medical assistant at the doctors office, your nail technician, your beautician. it could be your police chief, your mayor, your congressman, your judge.
No one kind of person is exempt. No one income level is exempt. No prestigious position makes one exempt.

When I married my second husband I was thought he was the one who would never hurt me. Although he never physically harmed me he emotionally scarred me. He played the game of telling me what I wanted to hear before we were married. After the ring went on the finger it changed and changed drastically.
I honestly didn't know that his withholding affection, flirting with other women, never being there in a crisis unless I forced the issue, ignoring me as if I didn't exist,(that's one of the worst forms of abuse, btw) were forms of abuse. I just thought he was a cad which he was but I never saw him as abusive because he never physically harmed me.

Circumstances changed and we separated and later divorced. I had an on/off again relationship with the worst abuser of my life.
See, not only does the abusers sickness progress but yours does too. By that time I was beaten down mentally. I was sick and exhausted mentally and physically. Oscar saw me coming. It was like I had a neon light over my head. I was easy prey.
At first he was thoughtful, kind, caring, loving, fun and made me laugh which I hadn't done in a long time.
I thought his "protectiveness" of me was cute, charming and loveable. I didn't realize it was disguised as obsession, manipulation and control.
Later, the hands that had been so kind harmed and hurt me in ways I never thought would be possible from him. The voice that had been so reassuring and caring at first later spewed the most hateful, hurtful,soul scarring words that depleted any dignity I had.
Eventually, this person I thought I would spend my life with, had agreed to marry at one point almost killed me, more than once. I had to develop a strategy for escaping and it took months. I literally had to fear for my life every day, 24 hours a day because I never knew what the next word I would say, the next look I had on my face, even sleeping would set him off. I spent my days anticipating his next and every move only to be foiled over and over again.
And as statistics say it became more frequent and more violent.

Please don't stay if anything I've said rings a chord within yourself. If you see yourself or someone you know in my words call a Domestic Violence hot line or a Women's Center ans ask for help.
You are important, yes, you are worth it. You matter. Be your own best friend. What would you tell a best friend who was living your experience?

I am living proof that you aren't ever too old to help yourself. I was past 50 years old when I escaped to a domestic violence shelter with only the clothes on my back, literally.
It wasn't easy. I had to face a lot about myself I didn't like. I had to see my past for what it was.
When I was first at the shelter I was on a 45 day suicide watch. I was empty inside, void of any feelings, good or bad. I no longer cared. I just wanted life to be over because all I ever knew was this and I no longer wanted to live out " this".

Through the persistence and counseling of very well trained, caring individuals and some were st angers I'll never meet but were benevolent I was taught I could trust again. I could trust myself and others.
It took a long time to believe there were men out there who valued women and cherished the,
God blessed me with one. He came into my life unexpectedly when I wasn't looking and I lead the most extraordinary ordinary life today. I am genuinely happy, content, loved, appreciated, trusted, admired and I laugh everyday now. Genuine good natured laughing, sometimes belly laughs for no more reason than just because I can.
I have a new circle of friendships who don't use me. I now know what true friendships are. I no longer allow toxic people in my life. I can say no and mean it.
I have the authority and final say of how I conduct my life. You can do. I encourage you to embark on a new journey to save yourself.

There is a saying that I agree with; Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.

Happy Birthday to My Mom! (guest post)

Today is my Mom's birthday. Like most folks, she was born at a very early age. ;) She's documented many aspects of her life on this blog, and I am very deeply, sincerely proud that God chose her to be my Mom.

I'd like to share a story that was a turning point in my relationship with her.

I remember a big bump we had when I was 15 years old. My sister and I were staying with her that summer in Texas. I became really upset with something she had done that seemed unfair, or it was simply a culmination of things.

I was so mad that I yelled at her and ran away for awhile. I knew I'd come back, but I just needed to be away from her for awhile.

I wound up walking to the neighborhood church. After about 45 minutes of being gone, I went back to her home.

She was waiting for me. I knew I was in for a good talking-to, and I just resented her. But I wanted to be respectful, so I just glared at her for awhile as she rebuked me for running off like I'd done.

I don't really remember specifics. I just remember knowing that my Mom really cared for me, that I'd scared her by running off, and that whatever it was that I was mad at her for wasn't really that important.

I guess in some way, I'd worked out any resentment or bitterness I'd had. Ever since that moment in Texas, I've been really close to my Mom.

Even though she's lived thousands of miles away for most of my life.

I love you, Mom!


"If you'd never been born, well what would you be?
You might be a fish! Or a toad in a tree!
You might be a door knob! Or three baked potatoes!
You might be a bag full of hard green tomatoes!
Or worse than all that... why, you might be a
WASN'T!
A Wasn't has no fun at all. No, he doesn't.
A Wasn't just isn't. He just isn't present.
But you... you ARE YOU! And now, isn't that pleasant!"
-- Dr. Seuss, from Happy Birthday To You!, via QuotesBlog

Hummingbirds may be racists; finches may be sexist

In our limited experience and non-membership in the Audubon Society Bob and I have made the decision that it appears hummingbirds are racist and finches are sexist.
Some may say we have way too much time on our hands but it's what you do with the time that is important, right?

Let me give you some background. We have two hummingbird feeders, one off the back patio and one off the front porch.
There is a ruby throated hummingbird that I have named "little chit" instead of the other word. He has taken control of the back feeder.
He sits as a sentry on the chicken wire fence around the green bean plants from as early as 6:30 AM til dark. I mean, if someone needs to get a life, it's him. Seriously.

As soon as any other type hummingbird gets within 20 ft of that feeder he attacks them. It becomes an episode of Snoopy and the Red Baron.
He swoops in with racing speeds of up to 220 miles an hour (I admit I haven't actually clocked it) chasing away any other hummingbird, fly, bee or even a finch.
I have seen almost turf wars out on the patio; I might even be risking my life to do this research, I'm telling ya.
I think some of the Anna's are sort of on to little chit now though. This past week I've seen sometimes maybe 10 come in from different angles and fly around just to get him pi$$ed off.
He can't attack all of them at a time so it is amusing to watch. However, being on the patio while this is taking place can be hair raising or close to hair removing.
They swoop, swirl, sweep and make dive bombing strides at lil chit.

I have no opinion who is better, the Anna's or the ruby throated. I am only an observer.
I give kudos to lil chit for handling his turf so readily and without compromise.

However, the Anna's live by the motto originally made by Rodney King. You know the one, " why can't we all just get along"?
I see often 3-4 Anna's at the front feeder at a time. If even just one is feeding it doesn't get upset if another one comes by to feed. it almost seems the more the merrier in their little group of green chicks, I mean birds.
This is very scientific and I can only hope you appreciate the effort that went into this research; I know the Anna's are friendlier because science backs it up. The front feeder can empty in one day, the back one can take 3-4 days to empty.

Once in an occasional while the Anna's gang up and take over the back feeder for a little while( probably a clue the front feeder is empty now that I think about it). But don't think little chit is happy about it because he isn't-at all, and he makes himself clear.

Now, about the finches. We have taken the hard work away from all you who have to still get out to j-o-b everyday and don't have the time to research this as we do. No, really it's ok. OK, you're welcome!

Let me start with saying finches are one of the greediest animals I've met. You can fill a finch feeder and the next day it has to be filled again. Of course, if Lou next door would keep his filled maybe ours would last a few hours longer!

The real pretty yellow ones are males, right? Well, let me tell you someone needs to teach them about manners and how vinegar doesn't catch the worm or whatever the saying is.
Oh, you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar and the early bird catches the worm. Sorry Mom, I didn't think I'd ever forget them. I must be getting old.

Anyway, I digress. That happens when you get old. you also get more gas. Wait a minute where am I going with this.
The finches. OK so the females which are the less pretty but I'm sure more stable of the two are sitting on the perches feeding, minding their own business. Along come a flock of bad boys all pumped on well, finch food I guess, cuz I haven't read about any on steroids yet pushing the womanz off their perches.
I mean come on fellas, these are your baby Mama's after all.

Some females are passive and will just go to a nearby branch and wait their turn but there are a few that must be the bitches because they put up a fight. They get their wings in the way and move around and squawk like there's no tomorrow. I cheer them on.
Like who do those fellas think they are; I mean they aren't that and a bag of chips you know. If you've seen one or two you've seen them all in my opinion. I mean yeah, they're cute, tiny and all that yellow but come on.

Now some other late breaking news: our quail couple has given birth to 14 babies this week. They are just adorable. Mom struts first in line and clucks. then each of the babies follows and Dad brings up the rear.
Bob observed them a couple days ago. Dad was hanging around the garage clucking and finally went inside. Out comes JR running his tiny little 1/16 of an inch legs off. Dad kept shooing him back to the covey.
All total they couldn't be even an inch tall. Just as cute as you want them to be.

A couple weeks ago we had a Mama doe give birth to twin fawns. I have yet to see them but a couple neighbors right near the woods have. The woods id a couple doors down from me in the back. I did see Mama right after birth hunting up some grub but didn't know why she was out there. She was in the neighbors behind me yards eating branches and anything else she could get her teeth on or into. From the time line when I saw however we calculated she had just given birth. I guess I would be pretty hungry too if I were her.

So, that's springtime here in Oroville so far. Hope yours is just as rewarding as ours have been.

Gardening

Ok, again it's been awhile since I posted. I am really going to try to update more frequently.

A couple weeks ago we had Bob's cousins'(The Cuz) handyman come over and till up the back 40 here. Then we added horse manure courtesy of Star, Marty's horse.
I had a set of 9 heirloom tomatoes coming from QVC and was excited to get them in the ground. Well, only 2 made it after transplanting so we went to a local nursery and bought a bunch more.
I recommend in the future not to buy edible plants from anywhere but your local nursery.
Bob and Lou(next door) ordered a set of tomato/potato plants from another catalog place. They are surviving but not really healthy.
It's an interesting concept isn't it?; a tomato plant on top and red potatoes growing underground.

I've also planted about 35 green bean seeds and have a few more to start in a couple weeks. I staggered the planting so we could harvest in spurts. The first 18 are in a whiskey barrel we used before the back 40 got tilled.
Then I planted cucumber seeds, lettuce seeds and transplants I started in a container a couple weeks before tilling.
The cuke seeds aren't cooperating;I may have to get some more.
I saw a couple cantaloupe plants the other day I may just have to go get them and find some room somewhere.

I got a set of 3 rose bushes from QVC about a month ago and they are doing real well. Actually, I have two of them and gave one to Melissa to take back to Hayward. Jon will plant it in his Mom's rose garden when he returns from Iraq in June. It will be a memorial rose since she died in late January.
I still haven't decided where my roses will go. I'm thinking of making them memorial roses too,one for Bob's side of the family and one for mine.
They are a gorgeous pink color on long stems.

It's getting warmer here in northern California. It warmed up a couple weeks ago to low 90's then dipped into 50's and 60's for about a week to 10 days, not today it's going into the 80's again.
Spring has sprung methinks.

Visit to Cincinnati

It's been awhile since I last posted. I've been in a deep depression I figured out and was confirmed by my doc last week.
So much has happened since then.

The most significant thing that happened is that Walt didn't make it.He died November 28th. He passed away knowing he was going in for the transplant but he never recovered consciousness. His infections were fatal;a result of the mechanical heart being in too long.
If only a donor had been found sooner maybe he would be alive today.
I can't emphasise enough to sign donor cards or your drivers license,make your wishes known and sign a medical directive or as it's more commonly known, a Living Will.

It was heart wrenching when Ken called and told me he and Julie had decided to take their Dad off life support. We had all talked about it and Walt made his wishes known to the kids before he even went into the hospital and Ken and I had discussed it on the phone several times however when the decision is made and there is no turning back it's devastating.
I can't imagine the kids' feelings at that time. I support them 100% and no one could have had their Dad's interest at heart more than them.
What a wonderful legacy he and Janet left behind in Ken and Julie.
The most amazing brother/sister team I've witnessed.

I went back home to Cincinnati for Walt's funeral. He was buried the day after what would have been his 60th birthday.
I was shocked to see how much my brother suffered evidenced by the bruises left on his body.
He was so thin.And gray. My brother used to have the most full head of brown hair. I know we all age and get gray but his was almost white. Another witness to the suffering his body went through.

I admire we Mitchell's for one thing if nothing else. We pull together when needed.
Something Walt would be proud of but pass off as nothing he had to do with it is that we all came together and let bygones be bygones.
We became a real family again if not the first time in some ways.
I reconnected with my oldest sister and grown nieces. What an amazing,inspiring,awesome group of women they are.
They called me "the fun Aunt"! I guess because I smoked, drank, cussed, told jokes and don't take myself too serious.
Each one remembered something of their youth that I was part of and told me.
You never know what an impact you are having when you are doing but it is inspiring to know you encouraged someone so close to you.
My sister did an amazing job raising her 8 kids alone. And those kids love their Mom so much.

I got to see Dan,Jennie and Keisha while I was there and stayed with them one night. Dan and Keisha were in a play at church so I got to go see them which was a treat. Keisha has become so grown up.
No longer is she the little girl she was when I lived with them in Dayton.
I just love her to pieces and she does me.
Dan and Jennie have done a fine job of raising her through some difficult times.

The only dark spot on the whole trip was when Steph showed up at the funeral home. Looking back,I don't even know why she came.
She had told Mandy on the phone she barely remembered her Uncle Walt.She's had nothing to do with my side of the family including her siblings for years.

I actually got excited when I saw her; you'd think by now I'd know better.I'm the eternal optimist though.
I was talking to some family members and she walked up so I said hello. She couldn't have been more snippy if she tried.
It was not quite so much as embarrassing as it was disgusting. I no longer think that the actions of my children are a reflection of me now that they are all grown and adults living on their own.
I was sad that Steph didn't bring Hanna. Most of us haven't seen her in years. I last saw her when she was 7 and she will be 13 in a couple months. Really, really sad.
Steph probably wasn't at the funeral home more than 5 minutes. I'm not even sure if she properly p-aid her respects to Ken and Julie.
She really showed her butt though and family members who once thought I might be exaggerating her treatment of me and her haughtiness found out who she really was.
I have no idea why that child hates me or as much as she does.I wonder if she even knows anymore.
I told her at the casket after she snipped at me when I mentioned how Uncle Walt suffered I wasn't worth hating that much.
I did cry. I cried for the relationship I wished we had and for her because she apparently is so troubled inside herself. My family made the comment she appears to be a functioning mental health case.
She has always been delusional about ideas that she thinks happened to her.She manufactured things in her mind and then played the victim. She has done this since she was a toddler.
All I can do is pray for her.

Had the whole family not spent the brief time we had together reacquainting ourselves and moving forward it may not have so apparent how Steph was acting.
Little did she know she could have been a part of a bigger loving family if she would have let her defenses down.

Tom didn't make it because apparently he is a high functioning drunk. My oh my how the years can change things. At one time Tom was the poster boy.He was the one Dad wanted us to aspire to be. He was the "successful" one.
And Barb called me before I left California to say she couldn't be there. She doesn't feel like we are her family and isn't close like we want her to be.
I can't dispute her feelings but yet I know her perception is wrong.
I actually began suspecting she may have some autistic tendencies after talking with her.
It would explain some things.
Then there is Pauline. Who knows where she is?
I tried finding her the whole time Walt was sick and couldn't. I don't know where she is but I guess she doesn't care that we don't know because she hasn't contacted anyone for at least 5 years. If nothing else Mary and Dave live in the same house and have the same number and are listed so there really isn't an excuse.

There has been a lot to process and figure out since all this has happened. My doc says I'm still in the anger stage slowly moving into denial. I thought I was into acceptance but maybe I'm not.
I do know I am still mourning. Mourning for my brother and parts of my life that should have been different but aren't.

Spring is coming and that means new life and rebirth. A cleansing of the heart, mind and soul if you will.
I welcome it with open arms. I will get past this.I know that if I know nothing else.

feeling disconnected

I received an e-mail from my sister this morning and after reading it,I just feel disconnected somehow.
Here is the e-mail which describes my brother's condition at present.

HI Marge,
Just got time for a quick note, I’m already late leaving for work.
Walt is about as critical as you imagined. There are at least 9 IV medications going, all on monitors, He has a continuous EEG checking his brain waves, they are sedating him and want to make sure he doesn’t get too sedated. He has chest tubes draining his chest. ,there is a tube down his throat draining his stomach. He is on a ventilator. There is a bandage covering his chest, but you can see the heart moving under it. It’s weird cause it is really loud, usually you can’t hear a heart beating.
He has a nurse sitting at the foot of his bed watching him constantly. I asked the nurse about the bleeding, she said it wasn’t unusual after they have been on the artificial heart, they have to administer blood thinners and it takes the body a while to recover it’s clotting ability. He had 22 units in surgery and 10 post op.

Yesterday before we left we visited for a couple of minutes. He was a little less sedated, and he was moving his hands and feet a little bit, but never opened his eyes. He is having trouble maintaining his blood pressure, it was 84/42 while we were there, and that was with medicine to keep it up. They are trying to wean the medicine because it is limiting his circulation to his feet, so his feet are mottled purple.

Julie and Ken are real troopers, Julie has been home only about 10 days in the last 3 months. She challenges the doctors when she doesn’t agree with something. Ken said one time they were wheeling him to surgery and she said, I think he has a fever, and the nurse said No he was fine. Julie said Humor me, check his temperature again, and it was 102.8. So they cancelled the surgery that day.

The heart they gave him was a 30 year old, but that is all they would say. The doctor that is overseeing his care, told Ken, “we were really particular that it be a young and fit heart, b/c we knew it was going to really have to work hard to keep your Dad alive”. His heart rate has been in the 120’s for days.

We had a nice visit on Saturday nite, went out to dinner and they back to the hotel lobby where Ken set up a Wii game and we played for 3 hours. It was really nice to reconnect with both of them.

Well , got to go, Keep praying. Walt goes to surgery today to close his chest.

In years past when someone in the family was critically ill, mainly my Mom and Dad we siblings would rally around the one who was ill and support each other.
Situations are such most of us can't do this for Walt.
Some days I wonder if it would make a difference in his recovery if we could do that. Maybe not,buy you wonder.
If he could hear our voices, feel our touch, listen to our memories would it help make him well?

I feel so bad for my neice and nephew to shoulder the burden alone,although they would never see it or call it a burden.I guess what I mean by burden is the extreme weight of carrying the load just between the two of them;the decisions that have to be made,the time spent away from home.

I feel so helpless on the other side of the country and can do nothing physically to help.

I am feeling disconnected from my siblings.There is one I haven't been able to find and another that I leave messages with who doesn't answer calls.

My oldest sister relays the messages to our youngest brother who relays them to the oldest brother.

I e-mail all those I can. I guess I'm missing the physical connection we all had spending time with each other at the hospital in times of crisis.

No one had to explain a history;we all knew the history.These people were the witness of my life spent up to that point and I was to theirs.

This is the first sibling we've had to deal with such a serious illness and the possibility of losing.I don't think any of us are ready to lose our brother.I know I'm not.

I am optimistic of Walt's recovery.I have to be.However, what a process this for all of us to learn patience and faith in the waiting.It is surely a lesson in learning that all things happen in God's time and His isn't Eastern,Central,Mountain or Pacific.

I feel like I am in a fog today. Like I'm going through the motions but not really involved,therefore disconnected.

It's as if I am anticipating something but don't know what the something is yet.

All I can really do is pray and pray I have, earnestly.And almost everyone who knows me is praying with us.

Jesus said, "wherever two or more are gathered in my name there I shall be".I picture all of us praying for Walt crowded in his room and we feel the power of the Holy Spirit working and filling us with his love and promise.

I guess these are my thoughts today as we await another report later today.

Thoughts of my brother

Some may know my brother Walt has been very sick and fighting a battle with heart disease.
He was diagnosed many years ago, maybe 20, with cardiomyopathy. This is the same thing my Mother contracted and died from, my oldest brother has it and Walt's son has been diagnosed with it.

Walt became very ill last December and was admitted to Christ Hospital in Cincinnati several times. Eventually the doctors there could do no more for him and arrangements were made for him to go to the Cleveland Clinic to await a heart transplant. This was last July.

Walt has had a rough row to hoe since he's been there.
Early on he was to be transplanted but as it turned out the donor heart was a good match but an unhealthy heart.
He was having lots of ups and downs, sometimes more downs than ups.
Eventually, his heart was sick enough and no donor heart available so they removed all but a small section of his diseased heart to hook him up to a mechanical heart, which we call his artificial heart.
One of the side effects of the mechanical heart is serious infection which he developed.

After the mechanical heart, which by the way is a huge machine almost 5 ft tall that would sit at the foot of his bed and wires and tubes connected inside his chest, he lost over 100 lbs of fluid that had built up inside his body from the heart not functioning.

Soon after that he was able to get on a treadmill and begin a limited exercise program to rebuild his strength. I would call him and it was astounding the change in his voice.
At first he was so weak he sounded like a 90 yr old man barely able to talk.
By late last week he was just about his old self again.

Tuesday night into early Wednesday morning, he was transplanted with a donor heart. We assume the donor was a male between the ages of 30-35 because that's what we were told would be what the surgeons and transplant team felt would be best for him.

Almost immediately after transplantation he developed serious complications. He was bleeding profusely and required 20 litres of blood that day. When they opened him up they discovered the infection was much worse than they expected to find. He developed a high fever and his white blood count was very high.

Yesterday, Thanksgiving Day, he became more ill. He became extremely septic and they put him on dialysis, risking his kidneys to save his life.They were giving him megadoses of every antibiotic they could which could blow out his kidneys.
We were told to prepare for the worst.

It was a somber Thanksgiving for all the Mitchell's. His son and daughter were at the hospital alone waiting for news of their Dad instead of home having a happy celebration with their families.
I tried to focus on what there was to be thankful for and there were many things I thought of.

I live a good life;I live in a free country and because of that enjoy freedoms others don't have;I have healthy children and grandchildren; although I may not be as healthy as I could be my ailments are not life threatening;I have access to good medical care and medicine;I have a really great guy in my life who treats me like a queen;I have a beautiful home in a great neighborhood,with many terrific neighbors who have become friends;I get to volunteer at a place that is spectacularly beautiful and have great people that I volunteer with;I get to go back in time to history of the 1850's and recreate events for the folks who visit and especially the children. I have been able to travel;I have had some utterly sad things happen to me however I've learned great lessons so I value these as well. I have an internet community of friends that couldn't be closer even though most of us have never met and never will.They even included my brother and our family in their Thanksgiving blessings.
These are the things I focused on during my Thanksgiving day.

I've thought about my brother a lot of course in the recent months.I guess when you are threatened with losing someone from your life you tend to do that.otherwise,we tend to just take people for granted and think they'll always be there and we'll get to them tomorrow. It's when we get close too running out of tomorrows that realize how precious someone else's life is to our own.

My earliest memories of my brother are of sharing time with our dog,Lady who was an apricot colored cocker spaniel.
She was such a good dog, my best friend at that time.
There used to be a picture of Pat(my oldest sister), Walt, myself and Lady on the front porch of our childhood home.I'm guessing I was not quite 2, so Walt would have been maybe 7. It must have been in the fall because we were bundled up in heavy jackets and had headscarves and hats on. There was no snow on the ground and I don't recall we were wearing mittens or gloves.

Other memories of Walt that aren't so good was when he was drowning turtles my sisters and I had found downstairs in the stationary tub in the basement. He would kill snails with salt or a magnifying glass in the summer,he would fight with me every chance he had.Physically fight.
One time, I guess I must have been maybe 13,on a Saturday morning I changed the TV channel to something we younger kids were used to watching.Walt was usually working on Saturday mornings and I don't remember why he was home that day.Maybe he was sick.
He became so angry with me for changing the channel he got up and started choking me. Honest to God, bona fide strangling me.
My Mom came in the room and was yelling at him to stop, hitting his arms and he kept up. I was turning blue and losing consciousness and finally he quit.

He would skip school at the Polumbo Apartments where his girlfriend Janet (who later became his wife) lived at the time. He would make fun of me for going to school.
Later when I was skipping and got caught and my Dad was ashamed of me "because no one in our family EVER skipped school" I kept my mouth shut about Walt.To my Dad's dying day I don't think he ever knew.

Walt did some other unkind things to me that were abusive but I don't want to discuss them.
As teens we didn't have a very nice or happy existence.
I recall as if it was yesterday the morning he was leaving for Ft. Benning,GA when he was drafted.
This was during the Vietnam era and I realized my brother could be killed at war.
Real life came into clear focus that morning. I didn't hate my brother,I hated the things he did.
We sat at the bottom of the steps in the hallway and talked for awhile.
We both forgave each other perceived wrongs and made a truce that has lasted to this day.
That was in August,1968.

He came home on leave in December,1968 to get married to Janet and I was in the wedding. he left January 2nd for Germany. Janet joined him in February and they lived there when Ken was born the next February and she came home when Ken was few months old and Walt came home shortly after.
I was married the following October, Halloween night to be exact and my then husband and myself and Walt and Janet became best friends.
We lived within a few blocks of each other and within a few blocks of our parents,and my oldest sister.
Being around family was an everyday occurrence.
Actually, Janet and I were friends since I was 13 yrs old until she passed away a few years ago.

I admit I wasn't in contact as much with my brother those next years as I should have been. I did call a few times but few and far between.
I lived far away and like other things in life,one day turns into the next,one week turns into the next and then it's months and years. You always think there is going to be tomorrows.

My brother is the type that everyone considers friendly. Once you've met him you don't forget him.
I can't tell you the times we'd be out together and he would run into someone he knew in the service, someone he knew in school, someone he knew through a job.

For a few years he had a beer route out in the suburbs where we all eventually moved when we bought homes.
He was much loved and well thought of on his beer route. he serviced his customers as he would have wanted to be serviced had the shoe been on the other foot.
He was more than conscience. I wish I knew how many Sundays I saw him in stores on his route checking his displays, going to the back room to add to the displays when the product was dwindling.
I don't think I've ever heard someone talk trash about him his whole adult life.

I've been told by Ken even his coworkers from Kroger's warehouse and bottling plant where he eventually worked after the beer route have sent him cards and good wishes. They call and check up on him and he hasn't worked there in more than a year.

I would know anywhere my brother's voice;he has always as long as I can remember had this tic of clearing his throat while he talks.
Another memory I have of him when we were real little,I guess maybe he was 6-7 yrs old so I would have been 2-3. For some reason he needed to spell the word Carlotta.There was a family across with that name.
For whatever reason he got on the phone and called the operator. I can still hear it.
"I am just a little boy and I don't know how to spell Carlotta". That became a family joke for years and years and years. He hated it but we loved it.

In high school somehow someone gave him the nickname "Moose". I don't recall how it got started but he hated that too. Of course, knowing he hated it I called him that every chance I could. Sisters are like that.

One of the most special memories I have of my brother and my sister-in-law was when I was going through the first divorce. My soon to be ex had kidnapped my kids from me and was suing for custody. To say I was despondent would be an understatement.
At this point Janet concocted this idea for me.Walt and her to go kidnap my kids back.
We thought out the plan. Walt was off because it had snowed and iced that morning. they had an old station wagon.
So off we went to the exes house and I knew he had the lady next door watching my kids. She was supposed to be a friend of mine but I guess she liked being his mistress more.
I knew we had no more than 10 minutes to get the kids and any stuff out of the exes house before he would have been called at work and gotten home.
While I was inside Diane's house grabbing my kids, threatening to kill her if she tried to stop me, Walt and Janet were scurrying through my old house gathering items I had written down for the kids and placing them in the back of their car.
At just the right moment we jumped back into the car and headed to my apartment and got inside and locked the door.
Sure enough, pound,pound, pound on the door. The soon to be ex was fuming. I had outsmarted him and he didn't think I had it in me.
Possession was 9/10ths of the law for the custody case. I had possession.
I will be forever grateful to my brother and sister-in-law for helping me that day.
After Big Dan left we hurried out to the car and got all the stuff inside and then they went home. Me and my kids were safe.

So many memories of being together. They'd come to my house,we go to theirs.
We watched the kids grow up. We joined forces to help my Dad when he was sick.
So many memories.

I pray today that Walt is allowed to get better and go home and reunite with his family and friends and we are able to make new memories.
He and I have already talked about him visiting me here in California. he and his Yorkie, Mitch.
Maybe other family members will visit with him too.
We still have lots of living to do.I'm not ready for my brother to be gone from my life but will accept it if the Good Lord decides to take him Home.
He will be missed. he will be mourned.
And he would be embarrassed that he was.
He wouldn't want to believe he had that effect on so many people.

If anyone reading this believes in miracles and the power of prayer,please believe in a miracle and pray for my brother and his family.
We want him home for Christmas and we believe with god, all things ARE possible.

For four months now my brother hasn't eaten at a table, showered or gone to the bathroom by himself in private, smelled fresh air, felt the sunshine, heard raindrops,pet his dog, worn street clothes. His view has been of a new building being contrustected next to the building he's in.

I believe he should be healthy and go home and poop scoop drop droppings, shovel snow,rake leaves, clean his refrigerator and toilet, pay the sky high prices for gas. he should be able to complain about the high cost of food, the high price of heating his home.
He should be able to cheer on his grandson at a football game, be made to have tea parties with his granddaughter.
He should have to endure long phone conversations with me.
He should have to mow his lawn next spring and water his flowers.
In other words he should have a normal life like everyone else.

I pray our heavenly Father sees it this way too. If not, I know Janet and my Mom and Dad will be waiting for him as he crosses over and that is the way it will have to be. I will have to be thankful for no more suffering and that he has peace.

I love you Walt and am selfish that I want you around for another 20 years.

Skidmark Cards

A lady on one of my message boards has a brother-in-law who makes these cards.
It's in tribute to her daughter,who committed suicide last year and 100% of the proceeds go to fund domestic violence women's shelters.
http://myskidmarkcards.com/

These cards are a smart a$$ and tongue in cheek way of breaking up. They are not nasty, hurtful,(well,I guess you received one you'd be hurt), or profane.In fact,they lend to the humorous side,although again,if you received one you may not find the humor.

I can see teenagers or college aged kids using these a lot.And some adults if they have a real sense of humor.

It's ironic I was given this link today because I had wanted to comment on domestic violence in teens.
It is so prevalent yet swept under the carpet.

A young gal wants to fit in and be part of a relationship,if possible,part of the "in" crowd.
She will allow herself to be mistreated verbally,physically,spiritually just to be part of something.
Teens want to blend in and fit in.it's the time in their life they rebel against parents,rules,the system and anything else they can think up.
The one time a teen gal needs to listen to her parents she is most likely not to.

She will even try to hide the symptoms of abuse from her parents and family.If confronted,she will be angry they would even think such a thing.
If she is blessed she will have a friend who looks out for her,that is willing to risk the friendship and speak to an adult.
Most of her friends are too self-absorbed to care or don't want to create waves.They feel their own relationships are in jeopardy if they speak out.
Often,the boyfriend of the victim is the friend of her friend.
If the friend speaks out,she risks losing her own relationship because of it.

This same scenario can play out in gay relationships as well as heterosexual relationships.
In a gay relationship the teen is isolated already because they don't want to come out of the closet and then further isolated because of the abuse.
In both the abuser will try to isolate his victim from family and friends convincing the victim they are are no good for her.
He will manipulate situations to make her think his thinking is correct.

There is the issue of date rape in teen situations.
It isn't always just "dating" but in established relationships too.
He will control her and if she says no will be abused in some way and forced to comply.
Anytime sex is not consensual without force it is rape.If any young women see this,please hear my words.
Your body is your body.It's not his.He doesn't own you therefore he doesn't have the right to "take" what is his.
It isn't love,it's lust.
Love does not harm. Sometimes your feelings hurt or your heart breaks but love does not harm.
Regardless what he says,listen to me,it's a bunch of bullmalarkey.

This same young man who willingly abuses you is likely to walk away and abandon you if you become pregnant. Practice safe sex.Practice it for your future.Practice it for your health.Practice it because you are important enough.
I won't preach about premarital sex although I prefer you'd wait.
If you are choosing to play like an adult then be prepared to pay the consequences-alone.He will not stand by you,regardless what he says to you now.

Do not take on his guilt or his consequences.When he says he is sorry because.... or he wishes he hadn't but.... or if you had only..... or if you had.... or if your would.....
he is full of it.
It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with him.
He has a personality disorder and you'd be best to recognize it now and get away.
Get some counseling to look within yourself and figure out why you were attracted to this personality.
If you don't you are doomed to repeat the same thing over again and again until you do.
Be smarter than some of us adult women who didn't figure it out until we were much older.

And if he says he will kill himself or others if you don't stay with him,it's a load of crap.
If he is going to kill himself he would find another victim or excuse.He is drawing attention and wants you to be victimized further.
Please,please,please tell a person in authority if he would make that threat.It's your responsibility and obligation to do so.
It isn't your responsibility if he takes his own life on his terms. It would be sad and a shock but it isn't your fault.

You don't have to be in a relationship to feel good about yourself. I know you think you do.
You can be half of a whole and have holes in your life.Trust me,I know this well.
Be your own best friend.What would you advise your best friend if she were in the same situation and then take your own advice.
Don't stay in isolation.There is no reason to hold onto the shame. That's the abuser further tormenting you.Bring it out into the light and lie no longer has life.

If even one teen sees this and it makes a difference it will be worth it to me.If I can help one teen stop the cycle of violence in her life then it was worth it.

I am a victor,not a victim

The last few posts concerned how I ended up in a domestic violence situation,what some of the signs are and what it's like to live through it.



This time I want to give the end of the story or as it is today.



Upon leaving the shelter I still had challenges. My abuser was told by someone who meant well and didn't understand the situation where I was and my new phone number.

To say it struck fear in my heart would be an understatement. Everytime there was a knock at the door I froze.Everytime I heard a strange noise in the middle of the night I panicked.

Everytime I left the apartment I felt I had to watch everywhere afraid he's be lurking somewhere.



I had no car and depended on the kindness of a couple gals I met while in shelter and my daughter Mandy.She would give up one of her off days to ride me around to go to doctor appointments,shop and generally just hang out.

I can't even explain how good that was for my soul.

After being estranged from her for that long while it was really special.



It came about that I knew Bob,my present partner.It's a long story that I don't want to get into in this space but I implemented all I had learned in this new relationship.

I wasn't any easy mark this time.

I was skeptical,untrusting,suspicious, looked for red flags.They had told me in shelter during therapy that there were good men out there and when I changed how I was I'd attract them to me.I hardly believed it.

I knew there were good men,don't get me wrong, but that "I" would find one I was less than hopeful and to tell you the truth,I wasn't looking either.

I had made up my mind that I could live happily relationship free the rest of my life.

I had been married twice,had other relationships,been around the block a couple times,had children and grandchildren so what did I need to get tangled up in another relationship?



So, God in His infinite wisdom and with a bountiful sense of humor had other plans.

Just as life was progressing Bob pops into my life.

At first,we were just phone buddies, just developing a friendship and that was more than fine with me.

He was in California and I was in TX so it was safe.

Truthfully,I had suspicions he could be making up most of what he said about himself knowing we'd never meet in person,so I played along.

In time I figured out he was for real and he found out I was for real.

We talked endlessly on the phone,I had unlimited long distance and we both had cell phones that had unlimited night minutes.The time change between us worked in out favor.

We exchanged mail too.



After a few months he felt it was time for us to meet.He could fly to Houston or I could go to CA. I just instinctively knew I'd be OK if I went out there.Of course,everyone who knew me thought I was making foolish judgements again and hadn't learned a thing.I could empathise with them and would have felt the same way if I was them.



My theory was this,if he even got close to hurting me I would be so angry with him and myself I wouldn't have wanted to be him. I wasn't going to just be a victim anymore.

And,I had never been to CA before and the likelihood of me ever making it were slim to none.

I wanted to see San Fransisco. It was an all expenses paid trip so what the heck.

Everyone back in TX had my itinerary and I checked in daily.



From the moment we met after me coming off the plane it was as if we were old friends who had been separated a few weeks.

We spent 10 days together and they went fast.Too fast. I didn't want to leave which surprised me. And he didn't want me to leave which surprised him.



He said he needed me to go back home to see if he would really miss me. I thought that was refreshing and healthy.

So home I went and resumed my life. And we continued to talk daily as we had.

We covered every possible subject that could be covered.

I logged over 27000 minutes on my landline alone in all the talking we did.

We figured that's more than some married couples talk in 20 years.



After a month he confronted me with the possibility of me moving to CA;he was still working so it wasn't even a possibility that he would move to TX.

He was a native Californian so he wasn't going to leave the state.Besides that,I'm the risk taker and adventurer between us and I really had nothing holding me to TX anymore. He had a job,home and a life here. I had no real estate,a no where part time job and kids who were grown leading their own lives as they should.

I thought about it for another month to make sure I wasn't making a rash decision.



We honestly loved each other in a mature way.We respected,admired,trusted each other.

As complicated as it should have been, it wasn't.



I wanted to share my life with him more than I wanted to remain in TX for the status quo.

I received counseling during the time to make sure this was a healthy decision. I prayed long and hard about it. I did a lot of soul searching during that time.

And mid-December I was living in CA.

I've not regretted it.It has been a terrific life for me here.
A year after arriving here Bob retired and we moved to Oroville.
I love this little town and all it's rich history.
I've made a few very good friends and a best friend,besides Bob, in the process. She and I are like sisters. Not taking anything away from my birth sisters;Sandi is my Oroville sister.
We have almost everything in common,it's kind of spooky in a way.

Bob and I together couldn't be happier. I can't even remember the last disagreement we've had.We never argue.
We are tuned into each other so well that we really don't get on each other's nerves. he does his thing,I do mine and we do a lot together. It's a good balance.

He treats me like a queen.He is generous to a fault sometimes.He spoils me rotten to the point I tell my friends to check my expiration date!
And, I'm equally as good to him. We both have quirks and idiosyncrasies but we make them work between us.
Neither of us are perfect and the important thing is we know it and accept it about each other.

And, we laugh everyday,many times a day.I mean belly laughs and almost wet your pants laughs.
We appreciate each other and the life we've created together.

My hope to anyone who sees themselves as a victim of domestic violence and abuse to consider all your options.
Maybe you were like me at one point and trying desperately to hang onto a dream of the kind of relationship you wanted and were attempting to have.
You struggled, tolerated and finally settled for less than thinking it was your lot in live.

You don't have to. Jesus said,"I came to give you life and give it more abundantly".
He doesn't lie.
Had it not been for my tremendous faith and belief system I can't imagine surviving those years.
Somehow,I knew I was never alone.Somehow,I knew "I could do ALL things through Christ who strengthens me".
Like the saying says," Jesus doesn't bring you to it without leading you through it".

The best example of the difference in my life is twice in the past few months it was pointed out to me "that I seemed to be really happy now".Once by my ex in TX at the birth of my second grandson and once by brother needing the heart transplant.

I have no bitterness,resentment,hatred or animosity to those who hurt and harmed me.That's not for me to judge.
It happened,it's over, I've moved on and I love myself so much now it would not happen to me again.
I do not allow toxic people in my space or my life.I don't have to. I set boundaries now.

It's in some ways a lifetime ago that life I used to have.In fact,I refer to it now as "my other life".
I am optimistic, hopeful and full of true joy everyday.
I wake up praising God I got to live to see another day,to see another sunrise and hope to see the sunset that day.I give thanks for my abundance of blessings.
I pray to God to send the angels to surround myself and those I love each and every day.

You may think it's odd, unusual or that I'm deceiving myself that I don't hate those who harmed me.
Were I to hang onto that it closes space in my heart for the true blessings to bestowed on me.If I hold onto hatred there is no room for love.
Frankly, none of them are worth that price to me to pay.
I paid my dues already.
I am the winner,the victor.

I have about as perfect a life one could hope for now.
If I can do it you can too. Your story will be different from my story.Your outcome can be the same.

Reach into yourself and find that shred of something that still lives in you and hang onto it.
All of us have that shred because we are nurturers.That's part of why we end up in the situations we do.
We try our best to take care of everyone else thinking and believing we aren't as important.
It's lie. Just as the abuser lies to us, we lie to ourselves.
The reality is we can't really take care of others well unless we are taking care of ourselves first.
It isn't selfish; it's self-preservation.

What are we teaching our children about love if we can't even love ourselves?
Somewhere inside us is that injured soul that belongs to the little girl we once were.She is still there waiting for us to come love her enough.

I want you to have what I have and that is what is in the Scripture: to have the peace that surpasses all understanding.
It's possible.It's always possible.

Thoughts from a survivor

The last two posts were very graphic about what abuse can be like,more specifically,mine.

For each victim there will be a different story however threads of similarity run through each one.


It starts out benign. A comment made here and there;almost could be taken one way or another and if you were to call the person out they would make you believe you were wrong.

Later,a slap or some other physical manifestation of abuse.

Money is controlled because money is power.

Time is controlled;the abuser wants to account for your every minute even during times that should be private like in the bathroom.Knocks on the door,"what are you doing in there" or "how long does it take"?

Your way of dress or even buying clothing is questioned.Your makeup,hair, jewelry and nails are brought into question.

Your friendships are questioned. Slowly, you let each one fall by the wayside because you are convinced there really are ulterior motives behind each one.Or,it just isn't worth it to argue over anymore.

Sometimes,even family relationships fall by the wayside because the abuser finds fault or you are hiding the awful truth of how you REALLY live.

You are suspect at your workplace.You must be having an affair.

You are timed to go shopping and the mileage checked.You must be having an affair.

If you talk to neighbors without the abuser present you must be telling them "our" business.



You start hearing nothing you do is right.The way you cook,the way you keep house,the way you talk, the way you care for your children and the way you are a lover.

No one could be as incompetent as you.



You are called names.The mouth of the one who professes to love you can spew such hatred and venom you don't even recognize this person.

You are humiliated,embarrassed, and invalidated.

Meanwhile your self- worth is diminishing.

Your self-esteem is almost nonexistant.

You are so tired.Extremely exhausted and fatigued.

The daily barrage of hatred and abuse is taking it's toll.You muster up whatever you can to get through each day,wondering how you will find what you need for tomorrow.



The physical abuse starts. You are shocked that the hands of one who once treated you as a treasure now can hurt you so bad. It's actually a surprise at first.

He promises it will never happen again and you believe it.But,it does happen again.And again.And again.......

It never relents.

In some cases the abuse can take years to escalate and others months.

The only fact is it DOES escalate-always.



We stay because after the abuse there is the honeymoon phase or cooling off period.

There can be absolute bliss. It's as if the abuse never happened.And,we easily want to forget it.

We desperately want to believe it will never happen again.But,it does.We think we want to stay together "for the kids sake".

What we don't realize is the kids are severely impacted by our choice.

They are witnessing violence on a daily basis.

We would give our life to protect them from an outsider harming or hurting them but we subject them to violence daily.

We protect them from violence on TV but they see it played out in their home.

All in the name of love.



We want to hang on because we remember the good times.And,maybe everyday isn't a bad day so we fool ourselves.

What we aren't realizing is it isn't the relationship we now have we want to hang onto but the dream of what we wanted it to be.



We lose respect for ourselves.Our children lose respect for us. Our extended families,friends and coworkers lose respect for us.

They love us and are fearful for us but respect is nonexistent because no one understands what is really happening.

We live in fear. Fear of when the next incident will happen.Fear of letting down our guard. Fear of what those close to us will think if they knew. Fear of the family disintegrating.

Fear of the unknown if we changed our circumstances.



We make excuses. We make pacts with the devil. If this happens again I'll do...

Next time.... If he ever hurts my kids.... I'll never.... If ever... and so on.

And we always break our pact and then our self-esteem lowers and lowers.



We say will make some calls to find out our options and then don't.That would be admitting it was out of hand and we had to do something about it.

We see PSA's on TV and secretly we listen carefully,making a mental note but still do nothing.

We go to our doctor's appointments and see pamphlets about the subject.We quickly throw one into our purse intending to read it later but we don't.

We hear news reports where someone is murdered during an act of domestic violence and say how sorry we are for the victim, maybe even offering a prayer.We speak out about what a sorry S.O.B. the abuser is not wanting to admit the one we live with has the same potential.We may even be arrogant enough to think it will never happen to us,or, it only happens to poor people or uneducated people or drug users.



The fact is it can happen to anyone of any race,economic or educational background.Domestic violence is an equal opportunity scourge.

Who is an abuser?

He can be your clergy,your doctor,your attorney,your letter carrier,your mechanic. He can be your next door neighbor,your cousin, your brother,your son. He can be your father and yes,he can be your husband,your lover,your confidante,your so called soulmate.

And there can be instances it can be your mother,your sister,your teacher,your nurse,your secretary.Men are abused too and are victims of domestic violence.

In some ways,it's worse for them because society expects them to be macho,strong,head of the house.

What do you mean "your old lady beats you up.I'd kick her ass if it was me". That's even if he has enough guts to admit it 's happening to anyone.

It happens in gay relationships.

It can be sibling against sibling.It can be roommates.

Domestic violence has no boundaries. Only you can make your own boundaries.



If you see yourself in any of the situations I've described I can only encourage you to call a crisis hotline for help.Tell someone.Your clergy.Your doctor,Your nurse. Just tell someone who will help you.

It will be frightening when you hear yourself say the words to another person.It will almost be foreign to hear the words spoken you have only thought about inside your own head.

It will seem incredible to have a voice in the matter.

It's almost gut wrenching to know once you speak it out you can never go back to keeping the secret,to pretending.



If I accomplish nothing more,I want you to know once you go through hell you can come out on the other side intact.


Easy, no. Worth it, yes.

If you or someone you know is in a domestic violence situation, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233). Break the silence; make the call.

Related tags: domestic+violence, domestic+abuse, domestic+violence+stories

Why doesn't she leave-Part 2

Yesterday,I discussed my story and how it was I ended up in a domestic violence situation.


I apologize it 's long but felt I had to do it that way to give the background how someone gets into that situation.


I feel once folks know how it can happen they can be compassionate and proactive when it happens.


I left you with my total despair at the loss of my marriage and how used I was by my then husband.


He had not one compassionate bone in his body at that moment. I didn't even recognize this person I had known almost a quarter of a century.


I waited for the end to come without saying a word.I didn't want to live and I wanted to never feel the hurt I had felt all my life again.


I was silent,mute.


I guess I drifted into unconsciousness. I, of course, don't remember.


I am told it was longer than an hour before he called 911.He didn't want to be embarrassed because we both belonged to the local fire department and the paramedics would know us.


I am also told he left me alone and went to the local Walgreens to purchase syrup of Ipecac to make me vomit the contents of my stomach.


I know you should never induce vomiting in an unconscious person and he knew it too.He was a certified EMT.


To this day I have a few friends who think he should be guilty of attempted murder.



Apparently,I was taken to the hospital and my stomach pumped and was given some kind of charcoal stuff to absorb what might be left in my system.As a side note, let me tell you that is bad stuff and would keep me from ever attempting it again.



I came to in the afternoon with my family and a couple friends in the room.


I was so disgusted with myself that I had failed and would live to be hurt over and over again.I knew I could never have whatever it took to do this again.


Paul tried to apologize for his words pushing me over the edge but I just couldn't believe he was truly remorseful.I somehow knew his hurting me would go and on if I allowed him back into my life.I remember vaguely screaming at him to leave.



I was transferred to a psychiatric hospital on the other side of Houston.I was told by Paul when he and the kids came to visit me 2 days later that it was 58 miles one way and didn't intend to make a second trip.


I was hospitalized for a week.


In that time I met another patient.He was intriguing to me. He wasn't really like so many of the other patients.His illness wasn't outward.Neither was mine. To just observe us we didn't manifest mental illness symptoms.


I was diagnosed with acute clinical depression and bipolar disorder.


I really had no idea what bipolar was or what it meant even though I had a brother who was schizophrenic and bipolar. I knew most of the symptoms I had witnessed with him were from the schizophrenia;I really didn't know the bipolar symptoms and I was grateful I had only inherited the bipolar disorder. I learned that bipolar is/can be hereditary.



The staff after hearing my life history said they were not surprised I was there but surprised it had taken so long for me to to get there.


During my stay I became friendly with this man,Oscar. I could have an intelligent conversation.He wasn't hitting on me. He seemed quiet and in control. He liked to play rummy as I did so we played game after game.


At that time,in my insane state I felt he was a good friend.


It came time for us to be released.I called Paul because I didn't know anyone else to call to come pick me up and take me to my condo.


My car was parked there and I had no cash on me.


He refused.


My only other option I knew was to take a taxi and stop and get the money from the ATM and it would take just about all I had in my account.It was my only alternative.


Oscar had been working with the powers that be at the institution to provide him transportation but he really had no place to go home to.


So between us we cooked up this hare-brained idea that made perfect sense at the time for him to get the transportation and he could come home with me.


It was coming up on 4th of July weekend, a few days before it was Mandy's birthday and I knew she wouldn't speak to me.None of the family would.


I was virtually alone and lonely.


I was afraid to be alone with myself.Not just afraid,terrified.I couldn't promise I wouldn't harm myself again.


I was so grateful to have someone with me,to be accountable to;someone who understood what I was going through,to watch me.To get me help if I needed it.


To this day I believe I owe him my life for if it hadn't been for him I doubt I'd be alive.


I couldn't have cared any less about myself at that time.


We began a deep friendship. I was out of work due to the mental state for a few weeks receiving outpatient care.


We spent hours upon hours sharing our life histories and how we got to where we were at that time.


He was Christian as was I.We shared a faith that was a bond between us.


He had financial resources I didn't have.


For his living there he got cable turned on,helped me with bills since I was out of work. My savings was depleted from the wedding and I wouldn't get my short term disability check until after I returned to work. I knew it took forever to get it.


I was between a rock and hard place and so was Oscar. I could scratch his back and he could scratch mine.


Eventually, I returned to work and he stayed home and took care of cleaning, laundry and cooking and seemed to enjoy it.


After a few months I came home to him gone and no word where he was.


That was the beginning of a long,hard process of learning what it was to live with a drug addict.


That was his demon, drugs-crack cocaine to be specific.


He would disappear for a couple days and return and be remorseful and not use again for months.


After each time when he'd return it would be bliss, happiness, contentment. I wanted to believe each time was the last time.

After awhile it was feeling we were falling in love as strange as it may be.

We wanted to believe it was a "God thing" that we had found each other.

We went to church, did our Bible study every day, watched Christian TV, listened to Christian music.

No one else I had been involved with professed his love for Jesus the way this man did.

We were an interracial couple and had abuse from the outside world but it didn't bother us.

I never thought about the color of his skin. He was just like me in my eyes.


He seemed in tune with me. He knew when I was down or tired or frazzled.

He offered comfort where the others abandoned me at those times and sought out the comfort of others.

He was letting me see into himself in a very personal way.

I was building a relationship with his family whereas mine had left me in the dust because "I was crazy".

It might be contagious and it sure as hell was uncomfortable and a stigma attached.

As much as I invited them into my world as it was then no one obliged.

The kids didn't check on me to see if I needed anything.

I was extremely hurt but just stuffed it down and went on with life as it was.

More and more I became dependant on Oscar.

He was the only family I had at that time.

I was accepted,warts and all.

He treated me as an equal.

We would laugh and joke around.

We took long car rides and discovered new places neither of us knew before.

We took walks in the park near the house every day.We had picnics and fed the ducks.

We developed friendships unrelated to our past lives before we knew each other.



He bought my clothes and had excellent taste. He would laugh at my goof ups and we developed our own private jokes.

We said grace before meals and knelt at the bed and prayed together before bedtime.Our faith grew stronger and much of our lives was centered around church.

I was living the life I thought I always wanted.

We grew closer and closer.



Eventually, we were engaged. Our church was helping plan a wedding when we were ready. We received counseling from our pastor to prepare for the marriage.

Meanwhile the only of my four children who had contact with me was Dan.

He never gave up on me, unconditional love for his Mom.



Then he would go out and use again and the cycle would start all over.He was sorry.We'd pray harder. We became more involved in church.

I became sicker with my fibromyalgia and its symptoms which were many.

He encouraged me to leave my job.I eventually did and began working back at a convenience store around the corner from the house.I had worked there before and it seemed suited to me.



He's take me to work,even though I could walk, it was so close. He'd cook breakfast for me before work if I worked in the morning.He'd cook lunch or dinner if I worked a later shift.

He's pick me up after work.

He's run all the errands. He took care of the bills so I didn't have to worry about it.

I became even sicker.

He eventually talked me into quitting work and he would support me.After all, we were going to be married.

He helped me file for SSD so I could have my own income and get medical benefits.



What I didn't know and understand at the time he was grooming me for domestic violence.

It was classic.

He began to be verbally abusive at times.He would convince me it was my fault in one way or another.

He controlled the finances since I didn't work.

He bought the groceries and took over the responsibilities of the bills.

He became possessive.At first it was kind of cute because no one had ever "cared" about me like that.It quickly became a nuisance.

He began to accuse me of things that weren't happening.He gained further control over my everyday life. When we would take walks he constanly accused me of looking at other men.I learned to walk with my head down.From his insane perspective he believed it was real no matter how hard I convinced him it wasn't.He would punch me in the head for looking at other people.I dreaded running into someone I knew because I knew they'd want to stop and have a friendly conversation but I would have hell to pay later.



Now,instead of walking for fun it became a chore,I had to because he insisted.The picnics and feeding the ducks stopped.

The long drives ceased. Any shopping on my part stopped because he couldn't afford it or decided it wasn't worthwhile.Also.I would be accused of flirting while I was away from him.
There were times he'd want me to walk to the convenience store to get cigarettes but I was timed.If I wasn't back in 7 minutes I knew it wasn't going to be pleasant when I got home. You might wonder why I didn't use those opportunities to get away.I was terrified if it didn't work he's find me and kill me and harm whomever helped me.
I did call my ex once;he lived less than 5 minutes away.He refused me any help.All I wanted was trasportation to get far enough away he couldn't find me.

My friendships were stopping because he'd point out how this one and that one were trying to cause trouble.



The verbal abuse started included name calling and vile cursing,worse than ever.The venom that came from his mouth was unbelievable, demeaning and humiliating.

The church attendance was forced;it was controlled.I could only belong to whatever group he decided was worthwhile.

He came to every doctors appointment I had and came into the rooms with me.He determined if this doctor or that doctor was treating me satisfactorily.At first it seemed he did have my best interest at heart because a couple of them were negligible.After awhile it was a control issue.

In the early years he was very sympathetic and understanding of my health issues.

As time wore on he said I was using it for attention.



He became frustrated and angry that my SSD wasn't forthcoming and I had to appeal and reappeal.

I drew out my 401 K to help with the finances.I cashed in stock I had while working.

He began to throw up to me I wasn't helping but repaying him for what he'd spent already so I still owed him.



I became severely depressed and despondent.Trying to anticipate his moods and outbursts taxed whatever physical energy I had. His outbursts were more frequent,then daily,then almost hourly.
Always, he proclained love for me.




He eventually said he wanted me to leave.I had gone back to work very part time,15 hours a week at a little restaurant in the neighborhood.

Dan and Jennie were gracious enough to allow me to come live with them in Ohio.I took what little money I had and what little he so "generously" gave to me complete with a tirade and left TX for Ohio.

I was rid of him I thought.

He called every day,more than once a day.If we weren't home or asleep he left messages.The messages became more belligerent.

On one hand he wanted me out of his life and the other he still wanted the control.



Dan And Jennie were in a financial crisis themselves the whole time I was there.I was ill and couldn't work and knew I was a drain on them although they never would have thought of me as that way.

It came time they had to move into an apartment and I couldn't have them incur more expense because I was with them.I would pray and pray my SSD would get settled so I could help them out.It didn't come through for a couple more years.



While I was in OH Oscar suffered a couple heart attacks and had reconstructive knee surgery.

At the time Dan and Jennie were making plans to move he presented me with an offer.

He had moved to a bigger place and he needed in home care.

Why didn't I come back and we would live as roommates and I could help with his physical care for a place to stay.

At that point it seemed like the most feasible plan I could come up with.



The very day I returned as he picked me up from the bus station (I had left my car with Dan and Jennie) instead of going straight home,Oscar made a run into Houston for drugs.Never had he done them at home before when I was with him nor had he ever done them around me.I was now a captive audience in the truest sense of the word.



I was drawn into the life of a crack addict in full blown using.It was frightening to me.The paranoia he had was enough to keep me in a constant state of alert.

I couldn't believe how rundown and shoddy the furniture we had purchased together had become while I was away.

No real food in the house. The place was shabby and unkempt.

The extra bedroom that was supposed to be ready for me when I arrived was bare;I was to sleep on the couch.

I couldn't have the TV on due to his paranoia.He checked the windows and doors every 5 minutes literally.Blankets were up anywhere he thought someone could see in even places that made no sense but I learned quickly not to question.



I couldn't get a drink of water or use the bathroom without him becoming increasingly angry claiming I made too much noise.

I fell asleep on the couch only to wake up to him rummaging through my purse to see if I had money he could get at to go get more drugs.



The next day he was somewhat more stable and went to a church to collect a couple bags of food for us to eat.Never had he stooped so low when I had been with him before.



Each day became increasingly worse.He made contacts for his drug dealer in order to get drugs.His health was affected.He basically never groomed.

He was terribly verbally abusive in ways I never knew he could be before.



He became cruel,downright cruel. He withheld anything he thought I would want and most of what I needed. Nothing I could do was correct.No matter what I thought it was wrong.
He would wait til I was asleep and take my blanket saying I didn't deserve one.I hadn't earned it.

The verbal abuse turned into financial and psychological abuse.

It was affecting my health in a very negative way and that didn't matter to him.I was again seeking attention.



I was shaking all the time and becoming more impaired in my thought process having to constantly second guess him never knowing what would set him off. I was scared for myself because my thinking was so impaired.I literally had to think second by second afraid I'd do something else to irrate him and set him off again.



Then it turned physical.I don't even remember the first time he hit me what it was for because once he did it the first time it's like it opened the floodgates.

I became the scapegoat for every wrong that had ever happened to him in his entire life.



The physical abuse was unrelenting.

I knew I had to get away;I just had to figure out how.

At first it was just a seed I had planted in my head.

He controlled every minute of my days.



He decided what medicine I could take and how it was dispensed.At times he tried to overdose me and I would bar my mouth and he would squeeze my face until he could get it into my mouth.

I would hold it under my tongue and wait til I could get to the bathroom and spit it out.Sometimes I ended up having it dissolve in my mouth because he would even follow me into the bathroom.It was his paranoia.

He determined if I could bathe and groom myself.

He removed the shower curtain of the bathroom I used and would watch me take a bath and make sure I "wasn't taking too long".

My IBS symptoms were at an all time high.He accused me of faking that too.

He accused me of faking the effects of my medicine.



He determined when and if I could eat.He barred me from the kitchen.It was "his" food,"his" kitchen.He was paying for it.

All the while he continued to use the drugs and often forcing me to go with him when he went on his runs. I saw the worse of the worst of downtown Houston and all the filth and seediness that accompanies those who frequent that behavior.

He would make his score and then put them into my purse so if he was caught or stopped I would take the fall instead of him.

I can't tell you how many prayers I prayed during those times.



Finally,one Friday afternoon after a drug run he was being chased down by someone involved with the drugs,I guess it was a drug dealer.He was speeding through this seedy area of Houston,taking chances,car on two wheels,going the wrong way on one way streets trying to lose this character.This seemed to last forever but I guess in reality it was 20-30 minutes.

I just couldn't believe somehow I had allowed myself to get into this mess.



As luck or as I prefer to believe Divine Providence set in.

His car overheated and he still continued to use the car until the engine blew on I-45 in downtown Houston in rush hour traffic.

I had decided even if I was caught with the drugs being in jail was better than living with him.



He got the car to the side of the road and eventually a wrecker came by and he negotiated a deal to get us and the car home.

He used worse than ever that night.Then he was in a rage when it was gone.

Somehow,that was all my fault and he began to beat on me as if his life depended on it.

I didn't think it was going to stop. He choked me and as I would find out later that would happen with more and more frequency.My glasses became mangled.



He determined if I could have a cup of coffee in the mornings.He knew that was one of the things I enjoyed so he used it against me.After a couple weeks I got smart and acted like I didn't want it anymore.Then he forced me to drink cup after cup.



I had no appetite because my stomach was torn into knots.He would force me to eat by holding my mouth open.

I constantly shook from nerves.Of course,I was doing that to annoy him.He didn't like the way I breathed. I had to force myself to take shallow breaths as quietly as I could.Sometimes it didn't work and I'd get smacked in the head.

If I spoke without his permission I was punched across the mouth.I was cowering and withdrawing more and more into myself.

He didn't like the way I did laundry or cleaned the house even though before he would praise me and brag to others how well I did.

Eventually,I wasn't allowed to attend church anymore because I was too much a sinner and God didn't even want to see me in His house.I wasn't worthy.

He'd come home from church and check star 69 to see if I had called anyone.

Trust me I thought about calling for help when he was gone but knew if help didn't come before he returned my life was in jeopardy.



One Sunday he did have me attend church with him again. He had fallen asleep during the sermon.When we were walking home he berated me for not waking him up.I had tried a couple times and decided to just let him sleep as long as he wasn't snoring.I knew while he was sleeping he wouldn't hurt me.

On the way home he became extremely agitated at me and started hitting me and yanking my hair pulling on me behind him.

As we were cutting through the park he raised his cane at me and I could see in his eyes he could have killed me.I started running until I could find a place to hide.

I stayed there for I don't know how long trying to think of what I should do.

I knew it would be a perfect time to escape but all my things were at the house.I didn't even have my purse.

I finally got up the nerve to return.It was getting cold and I didn't have a sweater with me.



Of course, needless to say I took a behomoth of a beating that evening.



I need to interject in the early stages of the physical abuse he was always sorry and promised it would never happen again and I wanted to believe him.

Towards the end he was never sorry and was sorrier he hadn't hit me harder.



Shortly after that Sunday it became even worse.

He began to knock me into furniture and my legs and arms would have cuts and scrapes.He'd knock me to the floor and kick me. He's pick me up and sling me into the wall.He pick me up again and drag me by my hair.He'd spit on me. He'd find things to abuse me with.He'd pour hot water on me or freezing cold water on me and then shove me outside on the balcony.I would be shivering.



He would shove my head into the toilet and flush it and I'd think I was going to drown.

He would heat up the burners on the stove and put my hand on the hot burner.He'd burn me with cigarettes or the lighter.

He would put hot sauce in my mouth and not let me have water.

He would put pillows over my face trying to smother me.

He would stomp on my fingers and toes.He'd pull on my breasts so hard I wanted to scream but didn't.

Too many times I had so many bruises and cuts that he had to keep me isolated.If someone came over he made me hide in a closet. It was nothing for me to have black eyes, puffed up lips and bloodied nose.



He would wake me up out of a deep sleep and pull me by my clothes and drag me across the floor or throw me into the wall repeatedly and punch and kick me all the time berating me,cursing me, my family,my friends and tell me how useless I was.



After time I was so beaten up and beaten down mentally I didn't care if I lived or died anymore.

He bought the movie "Seven" and forced me to watch it no less than three times a day so I could "see" myself as the seven sins.

He would make me repeat the dialogue over and over.

To this day it's hard for me to watch the actors in that movie in something else and not see them as those characters.



He threatened my family who still lived in TX. He would tell me how he would find them and what he would do when he did.I believed he would.I knew he could.

Just when I would think it couldn't get worse it would.

He started accusing me of poisoning his food.How,I don't know.With what he never told me.

He became even more violent if that was possible.

He began cutting me.He would stab me with a fork when I was caught off guard.

He would repeatedly rape me. He would hold my head down and force me to perform oral sex.



It was almost impossible for me to physically fight back although there were times I tried.

I am 5 ft tall and at that time I guess I was about 150 lbs. he was 6 ft 2 in tall and weighed 325.

It wasn't hard for him to overpower me.



I continued to try to formulate a plan in my head with whatever senses I still had, to escape.I guess my planning was a 2 month process.

It was after Halloween, through Thanksgiving (which by the way was chicken and a can of green beans),and finally my day came December 23rd.

I had a doctors appointment and the landlady was taking me and dropping me off and going to pick me up later.I was to call when I was ready.

I went into my closet and told my possesions good-bye.The few things I had that had survived the flood and I was able to accumulate again.My children's few pictures,a couple rings I intended to pass onto my daughters.



I had the clothes on my back and a jean jacket and my Bible.I didn't need a heavy coat if I was going to be in Maddie's car going to and from the doctor and I knew he would be suspicious.



When I got to the doctors I told them I was a victim of domestic violence and they checked me out.They called the shelter and I was interviewed to make sure this was what I wanted to do.

One of the nurses put me in her car and drove me to the meeting up place for me to be picked up.

The true location of the shelter is never disclosed and to this day I wouldn't divulge its exact location.



I was mentally so beaten down when I entered the shelter they kept me on a sucide watch for 45 days.It wasn't so much that I would harm myself again but that I wouldn't prevent harm if it came to me.As an example,if I were crossing the street and a car was coming at me I wouldn't have jumped out of the way.If I had been diagnosed with cancer I wouldn't have chosen treatment.



Through much therapy and counseling and hard work on my part I got my head straight.I learned why I had made the choices I did based on what I had learned throughout my childhood.

I learned that even though I was an educated person and well read it didn't mean I was able to see the abuse for what it was until it was too late.

Abuse is insiedeous. it starts begnign and escalates.

To me, most abuse looked normal because it was what I had grown up with and as a matter of fact, most of my neighborhood lived under similar circumstances.



I wanted to be loved and accepted for who I was and not just for what I did so bad I'd subject myself to any good story that came down the pike.



I regret that my children were subjected to all this while growing up.I can never go back and change it.

I can only hope my example can show them it's never too late to get help if you need it.I also hope we have broken the silence within the family and we adhere to no more secrets and that I have broken the cycle of violence they have been exposed to.



So why doesn't she leave? She has been beaten down,controlled,manipulated and been threatened.Only until the survival instinct takes over will she likely be able to leave and not go back.

Statistics show that a woman may leave 7-10 times before she can stay away for good.

She feels she has no alternative.

She feels she is worthless and no one would care.

She likely has few resources left available to her.

Her emotional state is fragile and her thinking is askew.

There are many reasons why she won't leave.



And the saddest statistic is that a woman is most unsafe when she has made the decison to leave and does.

We only have to look at Cheryl Dawson to find that statistic is true.



My life is totally different today. I make good choices now.

The relationship I am in today is healthy.

It's hard for me to go back and remember those days just a few years ago.It's painful and I get sick thinking of them.

It was painful to relive them in my writing this.

If even one woman can see herself in my situation and make the choice to get help then it was worth it.

It can stop with you. It doesn't have to continue a lifetime.I was 51 years old the day I entered shelter.It's never too late.

Update: If you or someone you know is in a Domestic Violence situation, please have them call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1−800−799−SAFE(7233) or TTY 1−800−787−3224.

Related tags: onevoicewalk, one+voice+walk, domestic+violence, domestic+abuse, domestic+violence+stories