Enough is enough, Changing the life cycle of abuse.

By Audra J Pitts https://medium.com/subscribe/@audrajpitts744

I suffer from incessant oppressive victimization, a term that is not a medical diagnosis but rather a disorder I have named after the cycle which is my life. It means that I am a chronic abuse victim and that I gravitate towards toxic people. I remember being told stories of my infant days when crying was the only vocabulary I knew. Sitting in church on Sunday I was the best-behaved baby there. I give credit to fear, as whenever my parents didn’t want me to cry, my father would hold me. A six-foot-four-inch man at four hundred pounds and a booming voice that left everyone who heard it trembling at the mere sound. My father had many of these moments around our home. Along with the sound of his footsteps setting the fear of God into your soul, one’s visual acuity was heightened to watch for random flying objects, some of which were chainsaws, hammers, or whatever might be in his hands at the time. As I grew, I learned that I was his little girl even though he was a man to be feared. This did not mean by any means, that I could get away with anything, it meant just the contrary. He made it known that I should fear him and fear him I did.

My family was originally from a country in Europe, and at that time the country was predominately communistic. My parents believed in patriarchy even though we were in the United States in the late 1970s. I was the youngest of three children and the only girl. I had an enormous upward battle on my hands just to grow up. No friends were allowed over, I was not allowed to go to their house either, the female chores were never-ending, and even though I knew my father loved me, I cried myself to sleep many times. I would pretend that my room was in a magical world where I was the only human, and all my dolls and teddies were others living in a peaceful world. My life with my father and brothers balanced on the fine grey line between a deep love for my family and severe verbal and sometimes physical abuse. Mother seemed to have a jealousy of me that was confusing as to why, and this became the main mountain in my uphill climb. I was insulted daily by this woman, being called fat, ugly, and an embarrassment to be around. Every so often she would change it up and add that I was useless.

The many years of oppression by my family, led me to strive to please them. I would have done anything to make them happy, so it wasn't a surprise that in my first marriage I allowed verbal and physical abuse. I kept quiet about his failure as a provider. When he came home to his newborn son and me, just two years into our marriage, having lost his twenty-third job since our vows of richer or poorer, I had enough. I could not bear having to live in a homeless shelter yet again but this time with an infant. I could not tolerate him just sitting around playing video games and smoking away what little money we had from my minimum wage job. I said he had to leave, and that was the beginning of the end. I was so beat down emotionally that I desperately needed to rebuild my self-esteem and move forward in life. What better way, than with the support of my family.

Yes, you heard me correctly. I went back to depending on my family for emotional support. Nothing has changed in the family dynamics. They still believed that I was too stupid to function properly or make good decisions. My mother offered to babysit my son so I could work full time but because of the distance between her house and mine, he stayed with her most of the week. This was a problem because eventually, she made my son call her mom, and I was too scared to correct her. I needed to get out, to save myself and my son before they messed with his mind even more than they already had.

I soon met another man who was kind, gentle, and much like me in the way, he couldn’t stand up to his mother either. He supported my career both as a writer and a nurse, and we eloped one day in early October. We didn’t want to tell our families because they would make a happy day unbearable. He treated my son as if he were his own and supported me emotionally when my father passed unexpectedly. After sixteen years of marriage, two more children, and being controlled by both sides of the family, we just grew apart. I couldn’t stand being manipulated by my mother or watching him let his mother walk all over us. We fought and argued. Most of the abuse and oppression came from the mothers.

This was not an amicable divorce. Things got downright nasty and even my family took his side. This was the last time I spoke with my mom. She passed away several years later shortly after she buried my oldest brother who died from cancer. The only sibling, I have remaining, is and always has been a bitter drunk who forced my mother to sign over the property and then stuck her in a nursing home to die alone. He never told me she was ill, nor did he allow me to get my childhood belongings from the house. I try to call on birthdays and send greeting cards for holidays, but the phone goes unanswered, and the cards are returned to the sender. This is weighing heavy on my heart, and it is a continuous toxic life issue that is never going away.

The next few years went by slowly. I became my abuser. I hated myself and could barely stand to get out of bed in the morning and look in the mirror. Having divorced my children’s father, my middle child hated me and called me terrible things, but I loved them anyway. I cried myself to sleep at night and cried when I had to wake up. The nightmares felt like reality, and I wished God would take me from my living Hell. Daily tasks became tedious and so hard to accomplish. My life was in a downward spiral, and I had to do something to change it.

I finally met someone online and he seemed to be perfect. He said all the right things to make me fall in love and we started to make a life together. He drank and smoked but he was more handsome than someone like me deserved, or so I thought. Soon he became verbally and mentally abusive which then escalated to physical abuse and pure narcissistic behavior. After four long years of enduring insults and cheating, and a pregnancy scare from one of his mistresses, I began to see the evil that I had welcomed into my life. He isolated me from all of my friends, and my children didn’t want to be around him. Soon his breakfast of choice was a beer, and I became his punching bag. We separated and were trying to work on a better marriage from different households. One day I finally came to my senses and filed for divorce.

I remember the day he received the divorce papers. He had to work the evening shift, so he had plenty of time to pound down some water flavored with barley and hops. He was highly intoxicated and would not stop texting or calling me. I began to ignore him and that made him furious. He left work and texted me one last text. “You will now have to deal with me!!! I‘m leaving work and coming to you!”. “Oh, dear Lord Jesus.” I thought to myself. what next? I simply can not take any more of this. I am mentally exhausted and drained. I can’t even cry any more tears.

For three days, he held me and my children captive. Screaming insults from two inches from my face. Telling my children hateful things and pushing and choking me until I went unconscious. I came too when I felt a searing pain in my arms and breasts. He was burning me with cigarettes. I called upstairs frantically, to see if he had hurt my children but I could only croak out a sound or two. My children acknowledged me anyway, and I was thankful. I managed to go into my bedroom and close the door. I could easily climb out the window and get help, but before I could open the window, he busted the door down with his fist, leaving a hole in the door. The furry in his eyes were the fiery pits of Hell and I endured the pain of his pure evil. It felt like weeks by the time I found my cell phone he had taken and smashed. I hope that it still would work. Please God let it still work. It did, and I was able to call 911. The operator was very calm and directed me as to what to do and to stay focused on her, as he could be heard screaming at me and mocking my pain and tears.

It has been fourteen weeks since I told the police to take the narcissistic horse’s backside away, and he is still in jail having been denied bail while awaiting his trial which he honestly thinks that he will win. Since then, he has sent me letters asking for money on his books, among other things, causing further charges to be added. His sister harassed me by text, and she even tried to shut off the utilities in my home. I have spent the first five weeks in panic mode and trying to figure out how to survive alone. Then I simply said “hello” to someone online. Something inside me told me to do so, and I couldn’t stop myself from typing the words if I wanted to.

I can’t explain how amazing it feels to have so much warmth in my heart for this man. He is the kindest and most gentle man I could have ever hoped to meet. We both have been through the same pain in our past relations. The exact opposite of everything in my life. Enough is enough, and it is time to tell myself that I am worthy of love. A different and true love. I can’t keep doing the same things and love the same type of hurtful people hoping for a different result. It’s time to do something different and love myself and the world around me. Love openly and say it often, to only those who matter and have love in their hearts. Better things will come from a more gentle and kinder love. A different result from loving a different way.