So. you’ve read my posts about Faith and Karma? (If not, you need to click here). And after you have done so – continue reading.
Everyone has a story- or perhaps they call it- Their Testimony. We all are like books with an awaiting autobiography to happen. A testimony is also a story that reveals a bit of personal information about someone, a battle and how -with a little faith- they won back their life… – I will reveal my story/testimony and you can see how having some faith – and a lot of patience – has helped me through some battles-although before I begin – I want to say- this is not a story so one can feel sorry for me- I don’t need that. I want it to be inspirational… and maybe- I can help someone else too….
I will begin by saying, my earliest childhood was pretty happy. I wasn’t the richest – we were quite poor, but I would have never known. My brother and I always had food in our mouths and clothes on our backs- not to mention – a huge country house with a never-ending backyard- it seemed to never end anyway. I just want to point out – that before the battle begun- there was peace-just like before any war.
The battle probably didn’t begin until closer to my teenage years. By then, my family and I had moved to town. We also had built a house of our own. That was probably one of the coolest things I had seen as a child- The building of a family home and picking out carpet for my very own room. Life was just awesome in my opinion….
Years later in that house though, the air turned different.My parents fought a little more than usual- but I had thought it was just a phase. But- the fights often got kind of violent. I’d rather not express the fine details, but I will say, my mom was fighting some mental illness.(Depression and Borderline Personality Disorder) I kept reminding myself that she was sick – and it was the reason for all the turmoil. During the hardest times, – I tried to remind myself that she was sick- But even that got too be too hard- especially during one specific morning that I had woke up. I woke up to find that my mom had left.
My brother, father and I were all in shock. She was just…gone. The first thing I did was hop on my bicycle and ride all over town looking for her car. I was so scared. When I came home- I was hoping she was there. But she wasn’t. After 24 hours, my father called the police. Two days later, I received an email from my mom. She was in Connecticut and was fine. She would be home soon. She said she was sorry and loved me. — To this day, I still don’t understand that trip. Maybe I never will….
I don’t tell that story to hurt my mom. I only tell it because I remember the fear. And it is the beginning of what changed our family- forever. After that first time mom ran away- she did it several other times – and came back again…and again. It’s kind of sad, I often started betting myself if mom would come back or not. Or even- how long she would stay.
All of this happened while I was in high school. It began my sophmore year when I was 15. It made going to school incredibly hard. I sought out help from the school counselor- that helped some. I told none of my classmates what I was battling – only a few close teachers and friends knew. Despite the turmoil at school, I managed to stay on the Honor Roll, act in several plays in Drama Club, march in the marching band and play in the concert band. I even went to church camp in the summer and attended a few Youth Retreats that my church sent me to.I did anything to get my mind off the sadness I was feeling inside. At 18, the turmoil was too much. I bluntly left my childhood home. It was probably the most rebellious thing I had ever done…. But I had to get out of there. I wanted to go to college, and I didn’t want any part of the drama…anymore.
At the time, I had thought I was in love. I was dating who would soon become my husband and my daughter’s father. He was like the calm from my storm. After everything I had endured at home- it was like a breath of fresh air. I was 18 and had thought I knew almost everything. After all of the drama, I had become a little reckless and I just wanted freedom. My first year of college was like a vacation-It was the most stable thing I had had in awhile.
But reckless behavior leads to reckless decisions….. which create consequences. I started college in August 1999. By November 2000, I was a mother. I had given birth to my daughter with my first love. He was the second battle of my life.
Love is weird. It makes you do weird things. It makes you say weird things. It puts your head in the clouds. It also makes you ignore really important things. Things I wish I would have saw before… Then Maybe- I never would have to endure the pain. But – maybe there’s a reason for all of it. I still question….why?
I’ll start out and say he was the sweetest person I had ever met. He made me feel loved. He made me feel important. He made me laugh. I thought I could fly a few times. The love was awesome- for the first year anyway. After our daughter was born, his demeanor changed.
That is when my second battle began. Although, I’d never change the day that my daughter came into my life – She is the light behind his darkness…
I should have saw the behavior- I should have done something about it – the first night we brought my daughter home. I was giving her a bath for the first time. She kept crying because she was scared and probably cold. It made him mad and anxious – so anxious, he punched a hole in our bathroom door in our apartment. He yelled and asked what I was doing to her – I said ..”nothing. She is a baby. She is just scared.” and he punched the door. I got scared… but continued to stand with my poker face.
Another time, he would get angry at me about money and corner me into a wall, yelling at me until his face turned red – pointing his finger. Again, I was scared… At that point, I called my mom. She called the police. But that was all it turned out to be. Nobody got into trouble.
He stopped for a bit. But then, the name calling began. The verbal abuse. I was stupid, a moron and a horrible mom. This was before I even married him. But – when Skye was 3 years old almost 4- I married him. I felt it was the right thing to do. People told us we needed to do the right thing – we were living out of wedlock. So – I married him. But it didn’t change his anger. He was happy for a few months though.
I tried to stay for my daughter’s sake. I left to spend a few weekends at my father’s house when he would get too violent or the name calling, mental or emotional abuse was just too much to handle.
I told my daughter I would try to stay until she was out of high school. But it got to be too much. I started to feel incredibly sad. I felt like I was just living to be alive – eat, sleep, housework, go to work… I was so angry. It got to the point to where I begin to think. “If I die today, I won’t be happy when I die. But if I die- I’ll be happy that I won’t be here anymore.” The pain was beginning to be inbarable. I wanted to die- because I was already dead inside.
I prayed to God. Why did I have to go through this? After all the pain at home as a teenager- Why was I going through it again? Why? But one night- I learned that life was still worth living – because ONE person still loved me. – I fell asleep. In my dream, I was crying. I was so sad. And in my living room (I was still dreaming), Jesus came to me. He sat down in our recliner and asked me to sit in his lap. He let me curl up in his lap and cry. And I cried…hard. And he said, “I Love you.” and I cried some more. He hugged me again and said, “I Love you.” And that morning, I woke up, and I had tears in my eyes. Nothing had ever felt so real. In that moment, I knew Jesus didn’t want me to have that pain. I knew He loved me. But somehow, I had to get out- I just didn’t know HOW …or WHEN.
After lots of praying, things began to happen. At the time I was only working part time and doing a little writing on the side. I had applied to work as a newspaper reporter couple years previously, but I only had a few stories here and there. Then, I was assigned some permament jobs- I would start covering local school board and city council. Not too much long after that, I was asked to work weekends at an appliance store and to help with a church website. That helped bring in even more money. I finally had extra money that I could start saving. All of my worries about not having enough money of my own began to subside some. My prayers had been answered and I had saw it as a sign. Although, I still continued to stay…. I was still scared to leave.
It wasn’t until months later, that I finally left. It was an awful evening. I almost can’t remember what the fight was about – but I know I had wanted some time with my friends. I had been working hard, and needed some “me” time. But he told me I didn’t deserve it. He also was upset with me and said I had “fallen behind on my chores at home.” I was working a little more than full time and so was he and not getting any help at home. He said I needed to stay home, do my chores, be a mom and be a wife. He yelled at me in his car all the way home and the fight continued after the door closed.My daughter wasn’t home that evening. His face got redder, voice got louder and the insults were horrible. He finally pushed me up against a wall and spit in my face a few times. I ran out and said I was going on a walk – I had to get out of there. Thankfully – he didn’t follow me. I went inside a local atm building , made phone calls to my friends and father, and left that night. The next morning I walked into an organizion’s office that helped with domestic abuse – and haven’t looked back since….
The road wasn’t an easy one- and trying to get past people’s stares, the family drama and living on my own was difficult. I’ve been out since November 2014…. The divorce hasn’t completely been filed – I had to file on my own because I couldn’t afford a lawyer. There is a lot of paperwork involved…. After a year of counseling and living on my own and changing alot of things in my life, I am a little less stressed and a happier… and safer. I know it has been hard for my daughter, but she did admit to me that she was glad she didn’t have to hear the arguing anymore. I just wanted her to realize, that someone doesn’t have to put up with being put down every day of their life – it isn’t healthy…. Everyone keeps telling me in the long run, I did the right thing – even when I questioned it so much.
Over a year later, I’ve switched jobs, homes and adopted two adorable kitties. I also have someone who really cares for me and I’ve learned that love doesn’t have to hurt, and that it isn’t normal to be called names or put down… I do have to admit, I still have triggers and I worry about getting yelled at and reprimanded. With time and healing – it will go away I hope. The only thing I question now – is just why I had to go through so many years of pain – both as a teenager and a young adult.
These days, things are less stressful, I have wonderful friends and aquaintances and it is hard to believe that I ever dealt with such pain. I feel like there is a silver lining and I am more hopeful than ever about what is next to come -I don’t fear what’s next anymore- The only thing I need to do – is to continue to heal, improve my self confidence and keep moving forward – because I know- I am loved and someone is looking over me.