Five years ago today
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| Sun, 11-14-2004 - 9:43am |
I met doofus in August of 1992. Like most abusers, he swept me off my feet with his attention and caring. Now that I look back, I can see the red flags that were waving in the breeze from about the 2nd week on. The abuse did not start right away, but the "concern" about where I was, who I was with, etc, did start very quickly. It was several months before the abuse began, in the form of physically restraining me, backing me into corners and not allowing me to leave. This man had been in trouble with the law many times in the past, but admitted all of these things to me. For the first three years, this was the extent of the abuse. We were married sometime in late March of 1994 and just 3 weeks later, on April 15th, we were both arrested for domestic battery. The state of Florida had just on April 1st enacted new domestic violence laws that mandated that in the case of a domestic abuse call, someone would go to jail. Since the police officers who responded to the call had not yet been trained in how to apply these new policies, they decided to take us both in, even though only I bore marks of abuse. I spent the night in jail, in horrible pain, with what I found out the next day in my own ER, was a broken rib, courtesy of my new husband. We were court ordered to attend anger management counselling and did so jointly through my employer's EAP (Boy, do I know better now.) Things improved somewhat, but I was still living with Jekyll/Hyde and, like so many other victims of DA, took my "for better or for worse" vows seriously. There were several more instances of physical abuse and I left doofus 2 or 3 times, only to return because of the tears, the pleading, the promises, you know the drill. At the ripe old age of 40 I ended up pregnant with my precious daughter, Wild One, known here on the board as WO. When I was 6 or so months pregnant, we got into an argument and I was thrown to the floor and restrained by him. It was at that point in my life that I began to realize I had to get out, if not for my own sake, for my precious child's. Then, I had my beautiful DD a month early, while hospitalized for atypical pneumonia, we now realized caused by the toxic mold that was present in the old beach house we lived in. When I gave birth to her I respiratory arrested and died. We were both revived and I spent 7 days in the ICU on a ventilator. WO spent 3 hours on one in the NICU and took it out herself. And that is where she got her nic, Wild One, courtesy of the NICU nurses. Once we got home and settled into family life, things became worse in a different way. Aside from work I went nowhere. He took care of her during the day while I worked (he had trouble holding jobs and actually took pride in the fact that he had had over 200 jobs in his life, he said it showed he had experience)and when I got home in the evenings, out he would go, because, after all, he had been stuck in the house with a baby all day.
The final straw was on Sunday, November 14th, 1999. We had been to the Jacksonville Jazz Festival the day before with a friend and he had been taking drugs, I don't know what or how much, but he was out of it. That night on the way home, with WO in the car, he was driving so erratically that I talked him into pulling over and letting me drive. While getting out of the back seat to get into the driver's seat, he floored the accelerator on the car, throwing me into the roadway into the path of an oncoming vehicle. I managed to roll out of the way by about 3 inches and get into the car where he stopped it about 4 blocks away. He claims he had no idea I was getting out of the car. The next morning he was still out of it and insisted that WO and I sit on the bed with him all morning until we got some "resolve to this situation". To this day I have no clue what he was talking about. During this whole time, he had us locked in the house, had taken my keys, driver's license, money and repeatedly told me that if I called the cops he would make sure that CPS took our daughter so that neither one of us would end up with her. TO say the least, I was terrified. Then the beatings began. Several times throughout the day he would beat me, slam my head into the floor, pull my hip length hair out of my head, and at one point kicked me so hard on my leg that it left the imprint of his foot so clearly that you could actually tell it was a foot. All of this happened wiht my precious child right there, witnessing it all. At one point he fired a pistol out the front door five times, then put the loaded pistol to my head with one bullet left in it and told me that bullet had my name on it. FOr several hours I was forced to sit in a dining room chair while he held this gun on me, with WO only 3 feet away in her play yard. I was not allowed to hold her, feed her, change her diaper, comfort her or anything. Finally, about 3:30 that afternoon he unlocked the door (it had double cylinder dead bolts on it) and took the dog out for a desperately needed walk. When he came back in, he relocked the door but left his keys in the lock. When he did this I waited about 30 seconds and then quietly unlocked the door, removed his keys, got out, then turned and relocked the door with him on the inside. I then ran screaming to some neighbors who (2 members of the Jacksonville Jaguars football team who prefer that their names not be mentioned) who gave me their phone to call the police. While on the phone with the police, waiting for them to respond, those incredible men put themselves between me and him (he had since unlocked the door using my keys that he had taken), knowing that he had a gun. When he came for me, they wrestled him to the ground and removed the gun he had in his hand and would have beaten him to a pulp had I not stopped them, telling them not to stoop to his level. Once the police arrived, it took five of them to restrain him and handcuff him. They then searched him and found another loaded pistol in his boot. The last sight I had of him was hogtied in the back seat of a police car. He was carried to jail, many charges were levied against him and he spent until January 26, 2000, in jail, at which time his mother bailed him out because she feared for his health. (Can't blame her, she's a wonderful woman who has supported WO and me in our journey 100%). The prosecuting attorney in the state allowed me to write his sentence arrived at through a plea bargain. He is on probation for five years, has to attend batterer's counselling and is subject to random drug and alcohol tests. He also has to hold a job. There is also a lifetime no contact order against him for both WO and myself. On July 27th, 2000, at 9:20 a.m I was completely divorced from him, with him having no rights to WO whatsoever and the courts not even requiring us to report to them or anyone else should we choose to move, even if it's to the moon. Around 1p.m. that same afternoon he was convicted and sentenced to the charges brought against him for the battery, false imprisonment and domestic abuse against me. Since that time I have spoken only once to him and my last words to him, when he asked me what I wanted him to do, were "Drop dead."
Since that time, WO and I have moved so many times to muddy the trail that I've lost count, but while I've lost count of all the moves, I have not lost track of the healing, the hope and the happiness that we have gained. Today, November 14, 2004, we are free, safe, healthy and happy. It hasn't always been easy, but it has been sooo worth it. Sadly, the greatest guilt I am still struggling with is leaving my incredible child in that horrible environment for the first 14 months of her life. Counsellors and doctors have all assured me that she has no residual affects from it, and she truly does have no memory of it, but you know how "mommy guilt" is.
So there you have it, that's my story in a nutshell, with a mountain of horrible, too graphic details left out. But here's the important thing:
My name is Hylan and I am a survivor.
God Bless you all. Stay safe and keep the faith, it's worth it.
Mama Harmony

Thank you, my dear, for posting this here.
CL-Blueliner4
Yes Mama Harm, you ARE a survivor.
I just wanted to say I'm celebrating with you, Mama. You've been such a help to me on my journey. I'm so glad to be able to say that I've known you and that we've somehow been a part of each other's lives. You and WO deserve every ounce of peace and happiness you have found. Thank you for sharing your story and giving us all a part of yourself. You are a strong and brave woman.
Peace and hugs,
Cheryl =)
*`~```~~~````~~~* Happy 5 Year Freedom Anniversary MamaHarmony!! *`~```~~~````~~~*
Whew! FIVE YEARS! What a HUGE part of your life this has been, as the years living with your abusive ex were. MamaHarmony, thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for being *who* you are, for *what* you share, for all the time you spend caring and sharing, reaching out to those who are struggling with their own situations, with your unique way of not only understanding, but, with your way of responding...with humor, with emotion, in every form...most of all, for genuinely caring, sharing, and taking the time to reach out...
Your experience is horrifying to read, but, to *learn* about where you are *now* in your personal healing journey is just amazing, and truly inspiring!
You're an amazing woman, treasured friend, and awesome Mom!
Bless you and your WildOne.......may you celebrate countless years of joy, peace, love, and Freedom!!
Love you girl!!!
Call me!!!!!!! ;) Seriously... I LOVE to hear from you, anytime!!!
(Late on the celebration on the board, but I *was* in chat, swirling ya.......round and round, grinning at the new life you and your precious baby are living...on your Freedom Anniversary!)
With Love and HUGS!!!!
Hey Mama!
Congrats....you and your little one deserve peace and happiness. Never feel guilty about making your life better! Because of what you went through, WO will have the privilege of learning from one strong woman.
Terry