A survivor shares her story of living in fear

THIS post has been reproduced with permission from the writer after being first published on Sleep is for the Weak.

THE terrible unfolding events of a gun massacre in Cumbria have made some very unsettling feelings resurface for me, and I feel the need to get something down in writing – some sort of catharsis is needed. 

It doesn’t matter if you think you know who I am, or can work out my identity at the end of this piece.  That matters little to me, because I know that my ex-husband will never read this and that makes it safe to write without fear of retribution. It also means I can talk about a part of my past that I was ashamed of, and have tried to push to the back of my mind but every so often – especially at times like this – it resurfaces.

My ex-husband threatened me with violence on many occasions, actually hurt me on others, but mainly it was the emotional and psychological violence that pervaded our marriage towards the end.

Our marriage really started to fall apart during my second pregnancy when we started to have money problems.  He had been made redundant from work, and with our second child on the way it was a difficult time.  What I didn’t expect was for his already volatile nature to take a dramatic turn for the worse.  Three days before the baby was born I nearly walked out of the house with our toddler because of his behaviour, but for some reason – fear, hope, I don’t know what – I stayed. 

When the baby was born I remember having a conversation with the health visitor about post-natal depression (PND) and she instinctively invited me to go along to a clinic to talk to someone about it.  My husband came with me saying he didn’t trust health visitors and that if we said the wrong thing they would probably take the children into care.  He watched me as I filled in a questionnaire about PND and I felt compelled to give the safe answers, anyway I wasn’t lying was I?  Because I didn’t have PND, I was severely depressed and had been for months.

Some months passed before I was prescribed anti-depressants and I tried to keep them a secret from him, knowing that he would use it against me in some way. 

Inevitably, he found the tablets one day (looking through my bag for something, or just checking up on me?) and the glint in his eye was one of joy. Euphoria almost. He’d uncovered my Achilles heel. The taunting about my mental illness – which he always said in a whisper, as though he was protecting me, was unmerciful and he took every opportunity to smile knowingly and tell me how he would take care of things because I wasn’t capable of looking after the children on my own.

Even when he found a new job the aggression didn’t stop as I’d hoped it would. He started pushing me around and taunting me for my weight problem/poor parenting skills/domestic skills, whatever he could think of.  He rarely drank alcohol so I couldn’t blame it on that, but if I ever bought a bottle of wine he would talk to me in a quiet, menacing voice about how he might have to talk to someone about my drink problem.  The message was clear – do anything rash and you will lose the children.

Somehow, without actually saying the words he knew that I wanted a divorce.  I was too scared to say it to him, he was so unpredictable, but he must have known how miserable I was and that in the two years since our second child was born I’d become an emotional wreck. I remember driving to a nearby town, where nobody knew us, and attending an appointment I’d secretly arranged with a solicitor.  I wanted to know where I stood if I went down the divorce route. 

Could he take the children from me?  Would my real and imagined issues be held against me? It was when the solicitor asked me for my personal details and the children’s names that it became real and I broke down.  I think I sat sobbing in the solicitor’s office for a good twenty minutes, and although the solicitor was sympathetic he warned me that things could get very nasty if I wanted to proceed with a divorce, and I should prepare myself for that.  He asked me “what’s the worst thing your husband could do?” My immediate reply was “He could kill me.”

I went home to face the nightmare that was my marriage.  On the face of it we were doing so well. We had a nice home in a good part of town, two healthy children. My husband had a professional job; he was intelligent, good-looking, well-dressed and extremely charming.  Who was going to believe me against him?  After all, I was one the one with the problems wasn’t I?

Then, just after the visit to the solicitor,  there was a news story about a policeman who killed his family.  The headline said “There’ll be no divorce, the only way out is death”.  It was a horrific, gruesome episode where the father had killed his wife and two of their children rather than get a divorce.  My ex lauded him as a hero saying ‘that’s the way to go’.   The worrying this was my husband was ex-military and at the time was a firearms officer in the local Army Cadets, so had access to guns.  You can guess where my mind was, and I feared for my life and my children’s.

I decided to take a chance and speak to his parents, who had always been very supportive and knew of his volatile nature.  Their response was to look at me pityingly and say that it must be something I was doing because he would never normally behave like that.  Of course, they asked him about it and he reluctantly confided in them about my mental illness and fondness for the drink.

Then not long after that, as we ate our evening meal one night our 5 year-old calmly announced that she’d told her teacher that Daddy had pulled Mummy over by the throat and made her lie on the floor. As horrifying as it was too hear, I knew that this was a possible escape route, that if I could talk to the teacher about it she might be able to get some help for us. But my husband took the next day off work to escort me as I took our daughter to and from school and somehow managed to charm and laugh with the teacher about the silly things children say.  The teacher commented on how strange she had thought it was, but of course they both laughed it off. If only she’d looked at me she would have noticed I wasn’t laughing.  My escape route had snatched away and I was devastated.

It wasn’t long after that that something incredible happened.  He had been out visiting a ‘friend’ and when he came home he asked, incredibly, “Are we ever going to have sex again?”  I shook my head.  “OK, then I think the best thing is for me to move out.” I could only nod in agreement, but in my head I was screaming “Oh thank you, sweet Jesus.  Please, please make him go through with it.”

A few weeks later he was gone.  He moved out, and hasn’t come back.  Isn’t wanted back, never has been. And now, this current news story about the ‘quiet man’ who suddenly snapped has brought this all back to the surface again. I can remember that feeling of being terrified of what he might do.  What he might be capable of.  And it was this sort of carnage that lived in fear of.

When I contacted Josie and asked for her advice about writing this piece, her advice was to get it written and then work out what we could do with it.  She described me as brave to write about this, but sadly the one thing I can’t claim to be is brave.  I do feel stronger for having survived this, and I feel proud of having raised my two children on my own and see them grow into loving, warm, responsible young people.  But even now, several years later, and despite the fact he’s not allowed into my home I’m still afraid of him. So I’m grateful, yes.  Lucky, certainly. But brave, no.

______________________________________________

Domestic abuse is real, it happens, and it is a subject very close to my heart. If you are in a situation where you are made to feel frightened, emotionally or physically, speak out. Please.

The National Domestic Violence Helpline: 0808 2000 247

Comments

[Anon]

I stay with my partner because I fear he will take my children to the country of his birth if I leave him - where I would have no rights or chance of ever getting them back. He has told me repeatedly that he will go for custody as I am a 'bad mother' despite the fact there are no grounds.
He is not physically violent but he is an emotional bully and he is vindictive. He is very charming and no one ever (dares) say anything against him and people think he is an amazing guy.

So I look up to you. You are brave.

[Linda]

Hi Anon - I wish I knew what I could say to you that may be some help, except that I am sending you lots of love and will be thinking of you.

I'm sorry that I can't help more -- can you speak to someone in confidence like the lady did above?

Would the helpline listed be any good to you? I'm sorry if these are simplistic suggestions but talking can help, can't it?

I will ask the lady who wrote this to come and reply to you.

And for what it's worth, just so you know, many will look up to you - not many of us have your strength.

Much love to you and your family.

[Dulwich divorcee]

Goodness, just stopped by to thank the post lady for sharing with us and have been stopped in my tracks by poor Anon. So sorry to hear how you are suffering. Be strong and try to get help if possible, wish I could do something!

[Grace]

Hi Anon, like Linda I don't know what to say or how to help, other than send you some virtual hugs, love and encouragement.

I have known a few people who have been in emotionally abusive relationships, and what you say "He is very charming...people think he is an amazing guy." is something that I hear a lot.

I would also encourage you to connect with people who will speak life and encouragement, build you up and keep you grounded in truth and reality - whether in person or online, as emotional abusers often use tactics to isolate you and convince you that it's you that is bad, mad or both.

Lots of love x

[Josie @Sleep is for the Weak]

Oh Anon, I wish I knew what to say.

I just want to come and give you a hug. Please talk to someone, even if it is an anonymous voice on the end of a helpline.

Linda and Grace's advice is a good one. Stay grounded, stay connected to people outside of your relationship. Don't let him cut you off.

You are so strong. Much love x

[Diane]

You *are* brave for writing this, as I feel sure it will help someone else have hope and know they are not alone. Being brave is not never feeling scared, sometimes feeling scared and admitting it is the bravest thing you can do.

Thanks so much for sharing, and I'm so glad to hear you're out of that terrifying situation.

Anon, I'm so sorry you are currently in a relationship which is abusive. Thinking you might never see your children again must be so scary.
I wonder if the national helpline may be able to help you, or know where you could go for specialist advice? I'm sending you love and support, for what it's worth. x

[Lyn]

Hi anon,

I can't really add anymore than the previous posters have but whoever you are and where ever you are, this is a virtual hug and a hope that your situation changes for the better. I wish there was something I could say or do that could help you in a concrete way.

I can understand why you hold back to protect your relationship with your children... at least that is one thing that you can be certain of...the children will grow so this situation will not last forever. I hope this contact with us can help give you some strength to find your way through.

Please come back and visit us again...we'll be thinking about you and your children x

[Clair]

I was a child living in a house with domestic violence. Please please speak to someone- the helpline, your GP, health visitor, a friend. I don't know what culture your partner is from but I know there are special support agencies for minorities, perhaps they could help because they could understand your fears and the realities more.

My mum left with nothing- my brothers didnt even have shoes on. we lived in a refuge for 4 months. But living with nothing and without the fear over our heads was liberating and those four months are full of happy memories. It wasn't easy for her to get out, i know now that she was terrified that he would kill her (he had nearly done so several times) or snatch us. She still looks back and realises this was the best thing she ever did.

There can be a happy ending, Please be as strong as you can be and get out. It's brave just admitting that you are in this situation (even to yourself!). x

[Liz]

My have nothing but admiration for this lady, she was brave and resourceful. I find it heartbreaking that signs were ignored by others and she couldn't escape sooner. She did the right thing for her and her children and they will always thank her for it.

My first relationship was abusive but as I was a teenager I thought that it was normal and a sign of 'love'. It was only when he after all the emotional abused and stopped punching the walls and started on me that I realised that it was wrong and left. I do even now 20 years later fear for the person he ended up with.

So I'm hoping that this brave lady can rebuild her life and look forward to the future, not all men are like this x

[A Survivor]

Dear Anon, I'm the person who wrote this post and this is my story. Please, please get some advice. I had also contacted the helpline above and they were very helpful, and I would have contacted them again on how to get practical help if my husband hadn't decided to move out.

Put some planning into this, get some answers and professional advice - then you won't be living in fear of what 'might' happen. Know your rights. Please, if not for yourself, do it for your children. There is life after this sort of thing, and it can be so much happier without the abuse.

Take care.

[MalMonroe]

You ARE brave, very very brave, and should NEVER feel ashamed. You have done nothing to be ashamed of. I can't imagine how awful it would be to live in constant fear, not just for yourself but for your children. I'm so pleased that he left and also left you in peace. So many men don't. Thank you for sharing.

[Jo Beaufoix]

I agree, you are a brave lady and I'm so glad you had a chance to move on. It must be horrific still living in fear but do not underestimate your own strength and resources as you've obviously come through so much. Sending love and hugs and lots of hope for a wonderful future for you and your children.
You deserve it.

Anon hugs to you too and I hope you find some support. As everyone says, there are helplines you could maybe ring, and just because your husband has attempted to cover over what your little one said it doesn't mean that teacher believed him. If you get chance maybe you could still speak to her. I dare say she will be keeping an extra eye on your 5 year old now.
Take care and I have everything crossed for you.