04
May
14

When Does It End?

When does it end? That is the million dollar question that domestic violence victims ask but can not get a true answer.  For some, it ends when you leave and file for the protective order. For others, it ends when they get a divorce or move to another state.  And yet for others still, like myself, it doesn’t.  Why would I tell you such a thing?  Because you ought to know the whole truth.  Not a partial truth, not a want to make you feel more at ease truth but a real honest know one can answer fully truth.

I fled my home four years ago.  I could barely breathe, barely walk and barely support my own weight.  I can still taste the blood in my mouth.  When I tried to call 9-1-1 my husband ripped the phone cord from the wall.  He was going to kill me for my betrayal.  No, I didn’t cheat.  I have never been one that could do that though I won’t say I didn’t think about it, but my morals wouldn’t allow me to.  No my betrayal to my ex was far worse than that.  I called 9-1-1 and told them he was trying to kill me.

Unfortunately for me it was flooded that night and no one could come to my rescue.  After my ex ripped the phone cord from the wall, he picked me up like a sack of potatoes.  I begged for mercy.  I pleaded my case.  I swore I was sorry that I would never do it again. Just please. please let me go.  The rain was falling hard.  The wind was howling and no noise could be heard inside our house except for me sniffling like a baby pleading for my life.  Luckily my children were at my parent’s farm that night.  They had begged me not to go see him.  Pleaded with me, but I told them I would be okay.  WRONG!  That was not the case.

I told him his father would be really upset with him if he killed me.  I said  he would not be able to cover it up because my family knew I was there.  This angered him even further.  He unblocked and unbolted the kitchen door and threw me hard down the concrete steps into my jeep.  He threw my purse after me.  I grabbed my purse and fumbled for my keys to unlock my car.  That’s when I noticed from the excellent peripheral vision I had that he was coming down the steps.  I scrambled to my car and as soon as I was seated I locked my doors and dialed 9-1-1 again because I knew the moment I left that driveway I would no longer have signal for my cell phone.  As I was speaking to the operator, she was trying to reassure me that i would be fine.  That all would be okay and that’s when she heard it.  My husband trying to break in my window with a butcher knife screaming ‘I’m going to kill you, you psycho bitch’.

I started my vehicle and told her that the voice she heard belonged to him.  I told her I could barely breathe I was afraid I was going to die.  I didn’t want to die.  That’s when she told me that I would have to calm down and drive seven miles to meet the State Trooper because the flooding was too bad for anyone to get to me.  They could not get an ambulance to me and they could not get the police to me.  I was hysterical and told her that I wouldn’t have signal if he came after me.  She took my description in case he killed me and his description too.  Then she took a description of my vehicle so the trooper knew what and who he was looking for when I got there. But the flooding was so bad that i had to drive ten miles to meet him.

He was the only person honest enough to tell me that filing a protective order doesn’t make you safe.  He still could not call me an ambulance and I had to drive back to my parent’s house and get someone to go with me.  Yes I drove myself.  My daughter and sister accompanied me but i drove myself.  I was told by the trooper that because he could not come to my house, he could not arrest my husband for what he did.  He said I would have to file the charges against my husband.  I would also have to file the protective order.  I was petrified then.  How was I going to do that.  I called the hotline number that he gave me for domestic violence and they sent someone to the hospital to meet me.  The doctor was appalled that I had to drive myself in that condition.  he told me that I would be safe once I filed the protective order and the charges.  he said they would arrest him and lock him up.  I felt such a relief.  WRONG! The Midshore Council on Family Violence told me that they would be there for me.  That I was safe.  That helped me to calm down.  It was the judge however, that said it was only a piece of paper and not real protection.  he could not stress enough the importance of calling 9-1-1 anytime my husband came near me.

My advocate from Midshore told me not to develop a false hope.  She told me not to believe in a false truth.  She said the protective order just gave the police a reason to lock him up without question if he contacted me or worse.  So to get back to my headline question, when does it end?  Does it end?  Unfortunately, not for me.  I am about to move again because he has bought a house five miles away from me now.  When it came to going to court, the state decided to Nol Pros the case for lack of “proper witnesses”.  They said it was a he said, she said even though I had the bruises still showing and the medical reports stating that lifting over ten pounds could kill me.  My sternum was inverted.  I believed that when it came to trial I would be safe and it would all be over.  It wasn’t. He was ordered to attend three months of anger management by the judge.  I was granted an immediate divorce, but lost everything in it.

I thought that he would stop.  I was told by friends that it would stop.  it didn’t.  It hasn’t.  It won’t.  At least not until I move again.  You see he saw the girls and I in Walmart yesterday and followed us all through the store.  Nothing I could do about it.  he’s allowed to shop and the female judge refused to renew the protective order.  She said he hadn’t done anything new that I had a witness for nd his father claimed that he was a two hour drive away.

So again I ask:  “When does it end?”  For some, when they leave.  For others when they file the protective order or get divorced.  For others still, like myself, it doesn’t.  For me, I believe it will.  Maybe when I am able to date again.  Surely when I move out of state.  For those of you who suffer from this or know someone who suffers from this, get them help.  Get them real help and don’t let them stay in the same town.  I wish you good health, and safety and a thought to ponder…When does it end?

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2 Responses to “When Does It End?”


  1. February 1, 2015 at 9:46 pm

    Tre, The black back ground and gray words make it hard to read. I am here for you. You know where I am, And once I move you will have my new address. Anytime you feel the need I want you to pack up and come. There will always be a safe place in my home for you and the girls to come. Stay strong Tre, Hugs!!!


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