Shelley’s Story of Abuse

Shelley’s Signs of Being Abused

I always knew things weren’t right, that we didn’t argue in a normal way but I always looked at myself and what I was doing. On the day my husband’s mother died, he blamed me for her death saying I stressed her out by telling her about our relationship.

The truth was I lied to her a lot about it but I did confess to her that things were not good a few days before she died. She died of Stage 4 lung cancer which she lived with for over 3 years but, according to him, it was my fault for making her stressed.

That day I called my counselor and insisted on a phone appointment. I told her what was happening and gave her a few other examples. She told me to call the Domestic Violence hotline, I was floored that what I was dealing with was domestic violence. That was the day I woke up.

Shelley’s Emotional Signs of Abuse

Exhausted, Scared, Confused

Shelley’s Story of Abuse

She told me to call the Domestic Violence hotline, I was floored that what I was dealing with was domestic violence. That was the day I woke up.I met my husband in college. He was a star football player, I was a sorority girl and wrote for the college newspaper. He and I were just friends and I thought he was just wonderful and sweet. 15 years later we ran into each other by chance and rushed into marriage and children.

The control started early but I didn’t really see it. He would act distant after I went out to lunch with friends. He wouldn’t answer my phone calls on my way home and give me the cold shoulder. He started accusing me of cheating, lying and going behind his back although he never had any specifics.

He told me he wanted to get a divorce so he could decide if I was the right woman for him then he might remarry me…he told me this every day for several weeks. Eventually, my once very large group of friends, dwindled and I stopped being invited because I never came to events.

When I was 8 months pregnant with my second daughter I was running away from him, I can’t remember what the fight was about, but he hit me in the lower back. I took my 1-year-old and went to my brother and sister-in-law’s house for the night. He came there and apologized, I went home.

When I was in the hospital after giving birth to my second daughter he was upset with me and pushed me up against the cabinets in the hospital room. It was subtle but it scared me, this was supposed to be a happy day not to mention that I was recovering from a c-section.

When my daughter was a few months old he threw a baby bottle at me, I called my brother and left for awhile. I justified it by thinking he would have hit me if he wanted to since he was such a great athlete. He throws things a lot, many remote have been shattered, my cell phone broken, he threw one out the window while driving.

He has broken down doors to get to me all while yelling loudly, calling me names, telling me I am crazy and that I am a nutjob because of my bad childhood. Well, here it is 9 years later and, most recently, he threw all of my clothes into the dog kennel and I took them out, got them cleaned and acted like everything was normal.

I spent the first 8 years keeping the peace and trying all the self help I could since I fully believed it was my fault. He acts so wonderful and sweet just often enough and, of course, EVERYONE we know thinks he is the greatest guy in the universe and how lucky I am to have him.

After my 3rd child heard my husband call me a piece of shit very loudly over the phone that was it. My baby told me “Daddy shouldn’t yell at you that way, you should get in your car and drive away” this was my wake up call.

I am now planning my escape. I have been told by two lawyers that there is no way he will get my kids and now it is a matter of timing. Reading these stories and writing this helps me so much to stay clear on what needs to be done to break this cycle. Thank you so much for providing the forum.

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