A Life Worth Living. Chapter Eighteen.
Running away was how I dealt with life and my problems. I ran when I was a child and I ran as an adult. I did not understand that I could not run away from my negative beliefs about myself and life. I find it difficult to believe, that I actually put myself and my daughter in such dangerous situations, but I did.
I moved away, to a different town, with a dangerous man and my baby. Within a couple of weeks the beatings resumed. The beatings do not stop when you have a fresh start, no matter how many fresh starts you give the relationship. The abuse goes with you. If he abuses here, he will abuse there, was not understood by me. This time when he beat me, I got mad. I could not believe that I was working so hard, trying to forgive him, and then he was beating me again. I was sick of the humiliation and the shame of knowing that all the neighbours could hear him beating me and I flipped somewhere inside of me. I fought back, I punched and kicked and gave it everything I had. Of course I came of worst. I could have been killed like many have been killed when they fight back their abusers. Later, he was crying and begging for forgiveness and promising me the earth. My landlady who lived below us, saw my bruised face and black eyes, and rang Social Services. We were back to square one with the Social Services supervising us and for a while I was grateful for their support.
Many times I feared for my life because Barry seemed out of control with auditory hallucinations. His behaviour was bizarre and unpredictable and I was scared. One night, we were both quietly sat watching television. We had had a rare nice day as a family and the atmosphere was relaxed. Our daughter was asleep in another room and I felt fairly relaxed. Without warning, Barry turned to me and punch me so hard full on in the face that I saw stars. ‘You are making her cry on purpose just to wind me up’, he screamed at me. He was convinced that our daughter was crying and that I doing something to make her do it even though she was still a sleep in her bed. Later, I got the usual, ‘Please don’t leave me. You know I love you. Trust me I will never touch you again’. I wanted to believe him but warning bells were screaming inside my stomach, I knew he would hurt me again but I did not know how to stop the pattern of life I was experiencing.
Abusive Mother In Law
I asked my husbands mother for help once. When she heard that her son was beating me up regularly, she said, 'Well! You must be doing something to upset him'. I disagreed with her and set her off into a rage. She ran down the street, jumped on my back and wrapped her legs around my waist. With one arm she held on by holding on to my neck, with the other hand, she fisted me a few times in the face, blacking my eye and leaving me badly bruised. I did not fight back, I was afraid to lift a hand in defence, I knew the whole family would jump on me there and then. I also knew that others would turn a blind eye while I took a beating. That is the way it was.
My mother in law, when she found out that I wanted to leave her son, abducted my baby and hid her at a neighbours house, refusing to give my baby back to me unless I settled down a bit and stop acting mental. I gave in that time. There were no internet in them days, no mobile phones, we did not even have a house phone. I had very little contact with the outside world as Barry did not like me talking to people.
My first real move to change my unhappy life as an abused teenager with a baby, was seen as an act of defiance, not just by my husband, but his family, and my friends. I refused to stay at home and cook the traditional Sunday roast and have it ready for when the men came home from their traditional Sunday afternoon drink at the local public house. I was not allowed to join them in the pub and was expected to stay at home cleaning and cooking. Every minute of every day was spent cleaning or doing some kind of menial task. There was no fun in life. Life was difficult and I did not do things I enjoyed doing because I was not allowed. My life was under total control of my husband. I had negative beliefs that my husband had the rights to almost total control of my life because I was his wife.
This time in my life was when I started to question life. I did not like, enjoy or understand life. I was always medicated to allow me to cope with my life but I wanted more. Back then the most important thing I wanted to know, was, what made it okay for a man, to go off to enjoy himself in peace, whilst the wife was to stay home, cooking dinner, and dealing with a screaming baby?
We had had many fights because I wanted a job outside the home, I felt I was going crazy being stuck at home all day with nothing to do but housework, and take care of the baby. My soul was screaming out for something to do but I did not know what, and if I had known, I would not have been allowed. I was in a constant state of frustration and felt like a prisoner rather than a wife. I thought it was right to be so controlled by my husband, I did not like it and did not want it, but I thought that it was normal to do what your husband demanded of you. Back then, I thought there was something abnormal about me because I was always fighting against my prescribed cultural role. I had little knowledge of a world outside my world and thought my life was no different to the next person, but inside I rebelled against my life and its rules and conformity.
I did not understand that I had no self love and negative beliefs that I could change.
If I Could Turn Back Time
If only I knew then what I know now. If I could have my time again, which I cannot, I would have run for the hills as soon as a man looked at me wrong. I would loved myself and understood that being abused is not a sign of love. They abuse us because we let them! We are so desperate to be loved, we let our partners abuse us. We over look their cruel abusive name calling. We pretend it never happened when we are black and blue from another beating. We feel shame and humiliation and still we let them abuse us. Why? Because we do not love ourselves.
A man beat me because he knew that I had no love or respect for myself. It is impossible to have love and respect for another if we cannot love and respect ourselves. We have to learn to love and respect ourselves and then the abuse will stop because you will no longer be willing to accept abuse.
My own life takes a bad turn and things get really bad. My nightmare was not over.
Please feel free to leave a comment in the box below.
- A Life Worth Living. Chapter Nineteen.
Struggling to deal with my husbands mental illness, I took a job and then my child was removed from my care. My negative belief system was destroying my life but I did not understand. I could not take any more and attempted suicide. I lost my daugh
- A Life Worth Living; Chapter One
Born into a violent home, I was given last rites within hours of my birth. My first day of life was a battle to survive and there were more battles of survival to come. This is my journey of survival.
- A Life Worth Living.Chapter Seventeen.
At the age of eighteen I had a new baby and was in an abusive relationship. My violent husband was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia and I was left without support, and a baby, to care for him.
Questions & Answers
Do you know if he was abusive in his other relationships before you? Was your mother in law abused also? I’m just wondering why she thought it was ok for her son to treat the mother of his baby this way?
We were only fourteen years old when we met. I do not believe he was abusive with anyone else before me. My mother in law was a bit of a gangster woman. I do not believe she was ever abused by another but she was very nasty towards me even though I was a vulnerable young woman. She was only a little lady, probably under five feet tall and I am five feet tall but she could pack a punch and she made a mess of my face knowing I could not fight back. Now she is a very old lady and everybody thinks she is wonderful and sweet and I am sure she is.