The abuser received 36 years in prison, the longest sentence given to someone who abused (but did not kill) his wife in New York.
The judge viewed the visual evidence afforded by the tape, and finally saw what happens behind closed doors. Many other judges won’t see it. If you know a judge, send him/her a link to this video. They all need to know who they’re putting back into the home when they do not sentence the offender.
Kids OFTEN see the abuse happen. It just so happens that this abusive dumbass made his 13 year old son record the abuse session. He expects his son to take part in the verbal abuse, and the son complies. Not the kid’s fault. Just like it wasn’t my son’s fault that he was pulled into it the last night it happened at my house.
This film is not yet produced. The link takes you to a page from where you can donate to get production off the ground.
About the Film: “Blame” is a full-length feature independent film that explores the world of abusive relationships. “Blame” captures the brutality of an emotionally/verbally abusive relationship in a story that many individuals can relate to.
I’m confused. I’m missing a link somewhere between where I am and where I am headed.
I am working from home and in school full-time. I am surviving on a small settlement in the interim, planning on it to last until I make the money I need to support myself. I do not want to go to work for anyone else (as in a “real job”) because I want to budget my own time, use my own ideas, be my own boss.
I am investing in myself with the settlement. I could have invested the settlement in an IRA account. I could have hoarded it in a savings account or cd’s. But I’m not. I’m living on it. For now.
I am 14. I have opened my window, rotating it out just enough to see his headlights reflect in it when he turns down his driveway. I want him to return home, want him to come tapping on my window. I want to be his girlfriend.
He is the boy who raped me, on his couch, in only a few minutes, weeks before. But I didn’t want to call it rape. I wanted to call it love.
I wanted to have sex with him over and over and over again until I convinced myself that he was my first true love. For a few weeks that summer, I succeeded in doing that – at least most of the time.
Shame, dread, revulsion, … those feelings welled inside of me in between the taps on the window. The feelings’ poisonous nature sloshed around in my guts, eating and corroding my belly from the inside. Hyper-alert, unable to sleep, almost obsessive, I felt compelled to avenge my rape by pretending to control its circumstances; I couldn’t go back and control, re-do, what happened on the couch, but I could control whether it happened again, or again, or again. Continue reading
My husband is a soldier and currently deployed. There is so much I truly don’t know where to start…
We just had a baby boy – he is 3 months old – and 2 weeks after he was born, my husband went to a rave, which he knows I absolutely hate, and lied to me about it! But when I found out the truth, I asked him why he wouldn’t just tell me the truth.
He replied because I would have gotten mad, but said he didn’t care – he would do what he wanted and I couldn’t stop him. He didn’t come home until 11 the next morning. Continue reading
When I met Mr. Abuser he very quickly wanted to spend all his free time with me. I work 7 days a week so it was a little challenging. I did like him, so I worked it into my schedule.
When I didn’t see him, he “needed” to talk at least once or twice a day; would send numerous texts throughout the day which I wouldn’t respond to because my jobs require my full attention. I was dating someone else at the time I met him so, in all fairness, my availability was not exactly up to par with his. Continue reading
My memories are like an old thriller that keeps replaying the same scenes when I go back and try to rethink it. I often catch myself trying to justify my childhood. When I think back to the horrible events that have happened over the years, I can tell you I’m grateful for my life today. I love who I have become. Although I can’t change my past I can understand it. Writing this will be the first time I have come clean, another way of putting it behind me. I’ve wanted to let this out for some time now.
My name is Joe. As a young boy, I lived with my mom and dad and my sister. My sister was my closest friend. She was part of me as I was part of her. Dad abused my mom, sister, and me. My dad, who I thought was a normal average father and husband.
In 1975, I was five and my sister was three. We had money at this time of my life because my dad held a good job and important job. I remember being proud of what my dad did for work. I wanted to follow in his footsteps. I wanted to be just like him.
He had come from a hard childhood, in an out of foster homes and being abused by his parents. Alcohol played a big role in Dad’s life. He drank while he was a young man and he still does. He also liked guns. My sister and I grew up under the threat of guns an booze. Continue reading
Have you been given bad advice by a member of the clergy? Did you feel blamed for the abuse in your relationship instead of helped? Have you been told to carry the water and serve the one who abused you?
If so, then you know that some clergy must be better educated about the dynamics of abuse.
Doug and Cindy Burrell’s ministry is about to take a giant, positive leap forward. They are speaking at a church about the harm done to abuse victims by clergy attempting to follow “God’s Word” but overlooking key scriptures in support of ending abuse.
Your experience will benefit their ministry and change someone’s life for the better.
If you would like to be a part of the story and positively impact the ways in which the church counsels domestic abuse victims, please contact them via the form at Cindy Burrell’s website, Hurt By Love.
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