I am grateful. I am blessed. I am stronger. I am forever changed.

I apologize in advance. This is more than a blog post. It may take the length of a short story. But it is a story that needs to be put in writing. Fair warning that this may not be appropriate for all audiences.

October 16^th, 2008.

This is the day that changed me as a person forever. Most people say that the birth of their children, or the death of a loved one, 9/11, or a traumatic event is the thing that changes them. While all of that is true for me, October 16^th, 2008 was the biggest change of my life.

I have to give background for this story.

I knew nothing but innocence my whole life. While I was not necessarily the most innocent of people, my parents shielded me. From a lot. I had no idea people in high school drank and smoked weed in the woods. I had no idea what a real party was like. I played sports. I was in the marching band. I joined the fire department. My life revolved around what my parents said I was allowed to do. I joke that I am Irish Roman Catholic so therefore I was born with a guilty conscience. I was the kid that got called to the principal’s office and was scared I was in trouble even though I never did anything to get in trouble and usually I was getting an award or asked to help with something.

My parents never drink alcohol. They don’t smoke cigarettes. They don’t do drugs. They don’t go out to bars. I grew up in the Leave It To Beaver household. I am absolutely not mocking it or regretful in any way. I am beyond thankful. But with this lifestyle came ignorance. This is pertinent.

I met my ex husband in the police academy. He was the kind of man that made me feel like I was the only person in the room. I was put on a pedestal. It felt like true love. It was the first real romantic love I had ever known. It was a very fast courtship. We met in January of 2004 and were married on March 17^th, 2006. I was pregnant with my daughter Amber pretty quickly and she was born January of 2007. My son Hunter was born February of 2008.

October 16^th, 2008.

It was after midnight when my ex husband came home. Unbeknownst to me, he was very, very, very drunk. I found out later that this was an every night occurrence on his way home from work. His shift as a police officer was the afternoon shift. He always worked until 1030 or 1130 at night and I was asleep for a couple hours by the time he got home.

I was woken up by his yelling and rambling and then he turned the lights on in our bedroom. He kept saying, “I’m done.” In my mind I was thinking, “What now? Here we go again.” I wish what I thought was about to happen was actually the case. I would take what I thought was going to happen over what did happen in a heartbeat.

We had been having problems. He was stressed at work. I was stressed at work. Being a police officer is stressful. Being parents of a 20 month old and an 8 month old is stressful. We argued a lot. He drank a lot. It always led to an argument. It always led to me having to console him and me spending countless hours until the alcohol wore off for rationalization to kick into his brain. I look back now and I can see that it was more than just he and I being stressed. He is an alcoholic. Although at the time I had no idea what that really was. I do not have an addictive personality. I don’t need a drink. I like a drink every once in a while but I know when to say when and I don’t need it to function. He did. But I didn’t see that. Remember... my parents were the Cleavers.

I would like to say that October 16^th, 2008 is all a blur. But I can still see every detail in my mind as if it just happened. I still have nightmares. My ex husband kept yelling and saying he was leaving. I got out of bed and went into the living room. I could tell he was drunk. And he was mad because the bears had gotten into our garbage and he just kept rambling. I had had enough of the arguing and I needed to sleep because I had to leave for work at 5:45 am. So I said, “Do what you want. I am going back to bed.”

That’s when everything changed.

He grabbed me by my shirt and threw me on the couch. He took his legs and kneeled into my throat to the point where I began to lose consciousness. Then he hit me. Closed fist across the face and said if I woke either of our kids, he was going to kill me. And I believed him. I had never seen that look before. It was rage. It was blank rage. For the next four hours I was nothing to him but a whipping post. He took his belt off at one point and threatened to hit me against the legs with it because that’s how his father used to beat him so no one would see the marks. He got a kitchen knife and wrapped my hand around the knife and made me hold it and told me I had to kill myself because he knew he would go to jail if he let me live. He continually choked me until I started to lose consciousness and then he would stop and scream more. Early on during this whole night I saw his gun in his waistband. It was just stuck in there. No holster. I thought so many times that I was going to try to grab it and defend myself. I never did. I was too scared he would be stronger. I was still hopeful I had a chance to get out of this if I just waited for him to sober up.

But it continued. He berated me and said horrible things. He bit my face. He threw me to the ground and kicked me in the stomach. While I was on the living room floor promising not to ever tell anyone and promising that I loved him and only him, he pulled his gun from his waistband and held it to my head. That’s when he handed me the phone and said, “Call out of work and don’t say a fucking word about any of this.” So I called headquarters and I said I was going to be out sick. Then he told me to call my father and tell him goodbye. I refused. So he placed a pillow over my head and said I would never see my kids again. I started to cry. And beg. And I heard him load a round into the chamber. The barrel of the gun pressed harder against the pillow and onto my head. And then I heard him start to pull the trigger.

Then he started to sob and he fell to the ground. He cried for about a half hour while I laid on our living room floor, frozen in fear. He passed out drunk right there next to me.

So many thoughts raced through my head in that half hour. How am I going to get my kids out of here? How I am I going to tell anyone? What are my parents, coworkers, family, and so on going to think? How could I let this happen? How did it get this far? Could I leave him?

After he fell asleep I stayed where I was. I was too scared to move. Too scared he would wake up and still be a maniac that wanted me dead. Too scared that he would do something to my kids.

He woke up around 6:30 am. I was lying on the floor still in torn clothes. I was covered in red marks and dried blood was on my face and arms. He did not mention anything that happened. He was quiet so I knew he was worried. Survival mode kicked in. I told him I had to take Hunter to the doctor because I thought he was sick. I was hoping I could take both kids by myself and go. He said he would take Hunter to the doctor if I could get an appointment. That left Amber and I safe but then Hunter wouldn’t be. So thankfully when I called our pediatrician she prescribed something over the phone. So then I said I needed to go to the grocery store. He said he would go. So I made a list of hard to find items that were scattered throughout the entire store to give me some time. I told him I was going to get in the shower as he was about to leave to go to the store. He asked if we were ok. I said, “We will be.” And he left. He took my keys with him.

I made 3 phone calls over the next 5 minutes. The first was to 911. I called 5 or 6 times before I actually told the dispatcher I needed help. And even then I lied. I was so embarrassed. So worried about what was going to happen. So worried about my two kids and bills and work and other people’s feelings. I told her my husband and I are both cops and we had a really bad fight during the night and I needed someone to come to my house. I told her he was at the grocery store and I did not see his gun at the house so that he might be armed. The next phone call I made was to my dad. I told him that we had a fight and I needed him to come get the kids because I needed to go to the police station. Then my phone started ringing from my ex husband. And I was ignoring it. And the texts started coming in. And then I got scared again. I told the dispatcher she needed to have the police hurry because he knew something was going on and if he got back to my house before they got here I don’t know what would happen. I never got a chance to thank that dispatcher. The steps she took to ensure my safety without me knowing truly may have saved my life. She sent the police to the grocery store, found his truck, and they waited for him to exit.

The third call I made was to my Captain. I told him that we had a domestic, my gun was in my locker, but that I was going to get a restraining order. Twenty minutes later, my two captains were at my house to help.

When my ex walked out of the grocery store and saw a lot of officers waiting outside looking at him, he turned around and put his hands behind his back. It was as easy as that. It was as if in that moment he had admitted his guilt. They didn’t say anything to him. They just started walking towards him and he stopped the cart in the lot, turned around, and put his hands behind his back.

The rest of the day was a blur. My dad came and got my kids and I was at the courthouse for what felt like forever.

Well, he was charged with criminal restraint, terroristic threats, two counts of aggravated assault with a weapon, and two counts of possession of a weapon for unlawful purposes. Bail was set at $250,000 I believe and he was released less than 2 weeks later to go to a 28-day rehab. The he decided to testify on his own behalf at the grand jury hearing, which landed him additional charges of kidnapping and perjury.  His bail was increased and again his family posted the money to get him out of jail. I don’t think I slept for a long time. I had my kids in my bed with me in fear that I would not get to them in time if he broke into my new house. I left the house we had together. I couldn’t go back there. It wasn’t a home anymore.

He later took a plea deal for a six-month jail sentence to which he served 2 months and 1 week. Yup.  2 months and 1 week for trying what he did. And yes I was angry. At times, I still am.

I don’t share my story to get sympathy. I share my story so people realize that this can and does happen to anybody. I missed every sign that this was an abusive relationship from the beginning. The hundreds of calls and texts a day. Him going through my phone. Him getting mad at me when I didn’t answer fast enough. Him never believing me. I barely saw my family anymore. I was always made to feel guilty. I didn’t really talk to my friends anymore. I wasn’t allowed to go out. He made me feel guilty about wanting to eat healthy food or go to the gym. I was constantly apologizing just to keep the peace. I wish I had seen all of that before October 16^th, 2008 but hindsight is 20/20.

I refused to be a victim. I refuse to be labeled as a victim. I am a survivor. I am an advocate. I have turned the worst day of my life into so many positive things. I am able to relate to victims on a more personal level. I have helped women out of abusive relationships because I can relate to them. I have worked closely with our volunteers who come to our headquarters to aid victims. I have spoken to groups of girls about what happened and tried to show them what an unhealthy relationship looks like. I show people that it does not matter what color your skin is, how much money you have, how you grew up, what you look like, or anything else to be a victim. I know now that it was not true love. It was obsession. It was control.

I have two amazing children from my first marriage. I am so thankful for them.

I have learned that I did not let this happen. This was not my fault. I have let myself love again. I have not allowed October 16^th, 2008 define me. I allowed it to change me for the better. I have found true love. My husband, Matt, is a man I want my son to emulate. He is my everything. He is gentle yet strong. He is understanding. He holds none of my past against me. He loves my children and I unconditionally. He knows how to disagree without fighting. He is respectful. He is passionate. He is honest. He loves me for exactly the person I am. He helped me find my true love. He has helped me create a life and a love that mimics the ones my parents live. Above all, he understands that I take on so much because of everything I gave up while with my ex husband. He supported me getting my bachelors degree and is supporting me while I work towards my masters. He never makes me feel guilty about starting my own business, being the PBA President, being my daughter’s girl scout leader, spending time with my friends, going to the gym, or anything else. He has given me the gift of true love. He makes me feel safe. Maybe my next post will be about our love story because while every fairytale has a villain, it always has a hero as well. He is my hero.

Do not let anything or anyone hold you back. We are given one life and it should not be wasted.

I am grateful. I am blessed. I am stronger. I am forever changed.

“As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands; one for helping yourself, the other for helping others.” ~ Audrey Hepburn

“Promise me that you will always remember, you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.” ~ Christopher Robin

“Promise yourself to be so strong that nothing can disturb your peace of mind. Look at the sunny side of everything and make your optimism come true. Think only of the best. Forget the mistakes of the past and press on to the greater achievements of the future. Give so much time to the improvement of yourself that you have no time to criticize others. Live in the faith that the whole world is on your side so long as you are true to the best that is in you!” ~ Christian D. Larson

If you or someone you know is in an abusive relationship – emotional, psychological, or physical – reach out for help. No matter what you think it might cost. Whatever it costs you is worth less than someone’s life.

1-877-R-U-ABUSED

http://www.jbws.org/index.html