I stopped it

 

 

 

It's so easy for you to say what you would do if someone...your spouse mistreats you.  Your conversations usually start like, "If it was me I would...."

 

Well, let me tell you , coming from a girl who used to say the same, "If it was me I would...."  You don't really know what you would do until you are in that situation.  You might have a general idea of what you might do, but you really don't know until you're in it.

 

I hated the yelling, I hated the cursing.  I hated the pretending that we were one big happy family. When things were good, they were good.  When things were bad, they were very bad. Very bad. 

 

I hated the coldness. So much coldness! I hated not feeling protected or provided for.  I hated the unpredictability.  I hated having the rug pulled from underneath me constantly.  I hated being afraid. I hated going without.  I hated being stressed. 

 

 I hated feeling unloved.  I hated not knowing what to expect when I came home.  I hated being yelled at and treated like crap.  I hated being ignored. 

 

 I hated that my dreams meant nothing to someone that promised to love me. I hated that he was crushing my spirit and that I stood there and took it for years.. hoping and praying things would change. 

 

I hated being ashamed.

 

I hated feeling used.  Used as a maid, used a chef, used as an accountant, used as babysitter,...used.

 

My world grew dark and lonely.  My circle of friends grew small.  I was isolated.  Too ashamed to cry out for help.  Too weak, too overwhelmed,  and deceived to run away.  Where was  I going to go?  Who would take me in with 4 little kids?  Where would I get money to live from?  Why didn't my family care? 

 

When I did reach out for help I went through so many counselors, so many well meaning people, and lousy pastors.  After opening up, to these "helpful people" we were treated like we had leprosy.  Rejected. 

 

I turned to church and what did I find?  The church will talk a good talk about how when you hurt, they hurt.  When you rejoice, they will rejoice with you... It was a lie. The church failed me.   I can count on one hand those that did not give up on me.  Including God.

 

When my life was in danger, I did what I thought was best.  When others wouldn't or couldn't help, and his hands were pushing me, and he was yelling at the top of his lungs, and trying his best to hurt me,  I called someone who listened and believed me, and helped me.  The police.  I did what I was supposed to do.  I stopped caring about what people thought about me and saved my own life.

 

 I think it was Maya Angelou who said it: "When people show you who they are, believe them".  I woke up one day, and started believing.