Sunshine to Black and Blue + Mental Scars
by Kim Hendrix
(Knoxville, TN, USA)
I was 32 yrs old when I met my ex-husband on a dating website. I had a nine-year-old daughter from my previous marriage. I thought he was my prince (So I thought at the time). He was my everything. He treated me like gold. He was loving, caring, affectionate, and more. He took my daughter into his life as his own even though he had never had kids. He and my daughter hit it off pretty well. She started calling him daddie, which was a shock to us. He started telling everyone that she was his daughter and not say his step-daughter.
We dated for two years before getting engaged. I remember the day he proposed to me was a surprise in itself. It was the day after Thanksgiving, and I decided that I wanted to see what he would say and or do if I asked him to Marry Me. I went to our master bedroom and used faux rose petals, and I wrote the words on the bed "Will You Marry Me," and laid his wedding band in the middle. I brought him into the room and showed him, and of course, he said yes.
Well later that night, he wanted to go to the mall and walk around and so we did. He had better plans for our engagement proposal. Not knowing what he was up to, he asked me to tell Santa Claus what I wanted, and I did, of course, HAHA. So as I sat on top of Santa's lap, I turned my head, and my ex-husband was on his knee asking me to marry him. We were the only ever couple to have ever made such a proposal, and it was gratifying.
He had a great job with a great company, and, even though I didn't work, I took care of him. I thought we had a great life because we always did things together. We went on vacations, went to the beach, and did things with my daughter. We would decorate for Christmas as he still loves this time of year. We would watch movies together. We would go out on date nights, and we even played video games together. We had a perfect life. He also helped me start my own Photography business which I had for six yrs. We laughed a lot, we would chase each other in the house and tickle each other, and we were always doing fun things together. My daughter was into cheerleading and did competitions, and so we did that together. I thought things were good with us, not knowing the evil inside him that was building and building.
As time past, my health started to get poor. My attacker started changing, and he began mentally abusing me, and he was starting to say and do demeaning things. He would raise his tone to me and talk down to me, for reasons I never understood why. I would cry not knowing why he started treating me nasty. He would call me a "Bitch, a Whore" and much worse names. I would defend myself, and of course, it would make him even more furious. I thought he loved me and it took me a long time to try and figure out what I had done to deserve such hateful treatment from him. I would try and talk to him, and it would make it worse. Then when his drinking started it got acutely wrong between us, we started falling apart. I would ask, and then beg him to stop drinking and it pissed him off towards me.
So, one day in Oct 2015 I was told that I had "Stage 3 Grade A Breast Cancer". I had a rare estrogen cancer so when the pathologist called me to tell me what I had, I tried calling him at work and could not get a hold of him. I called his boss and came to find out they had not even heard from him, so they went looking for him and found him sitting in his car DRUNK and DRINKING more liquor. He was told to come home and be with me during this rough time. Well, I had surgery and started Chemo in Jan 2016, and he resumed drinking more. The more he drank, the meaner he got towards me mentally. I spent a week in the hospital in January, and he only came to see me two times, and I didn't understand why because I didn't want to believe that he was drinking. I kept telling myself; he is ok, just hard to us all now that I have to beat cancer.
So, I just ignored all of the abuse. I got better and got home. My ex-husband lay drunk on the couch. He didn't say much to me except he called me a "Bitch" and said it was my fault that I was dying and blamed me for him drinking to cover up his pain of seeing me sick and ill all the time. I told him to leave, and he did. I spent months after that alone and only just me and my daughter. While we were apart and would talk, we tried to work thru the problems, not realizing what he was up to was going to be one of hell of a shock to myself and my daughter, who was now age 17.
I ended up back in the hospital four more times during the period we were apart. I let him come home in August 2016. The abuse became worse after he was home a few weeks. His drinking became more severe, even to point he was selling things to get money for his liquor. One night I had to get my daughter, and I noticed by his eyes and the way he would speak to me, that he had been drinking again. I told him, when I got home, that I wanted him gone. So I left and went and got her from work. He had the garage door locked from inside, and the front door was locked. I had a key duh, so I got in, and we got into it. The yelling, the threats, the bullying from him, name calling he would say to me. I didn't have the strength in me to do any fighting or yelling because the chemo was taking everything out of me. I went to turn my back on him and walk away, and he grabbed me from behind and slammed me into the floor and started beating me with his BARE FIST into the back of my head and upper back. He told me that if he couldn't have me, no one would and he was going to kill me. My daughter started clawing his head and hitting him and grabbing at him to get him off me and he grabbed her with 1 hand and threw her into the wall and almost broke her arm. She called 911 and told them he was beating me up and every-time I would try and get up he would hit me even harder. If I hadn't kept my face covered, he would've bashed it in. He started choking me with his hands wrapped around my throat and hitting me even harder with his fist. He told me the whole time how worthless I was and how much of a whore I was and that all I did to him was mental abuse and always yelling and screaming. I was thinking the whole time if I don't get up, he is going to kill me. So I started crawling and got away from him, I locked myself in the master bathroom, and my daughter had to call 911 again. while was on the phone with 911 he was beating on the door and yelling that he was going to kill me. I saw a knife in his hand while he was pacing the hallway because I would slowly peak out the door watching for the cops, and then it got quiet. So, I peaked out, and he was on the couch drinking his bottle and saying over and over how sorry he was and how much he loved me. At that split second, I saw the cops show up, and I took off running towards the door. If I wouldn't have made it to my front door, he would've gotten his hands on me and would've either killed me or beat me more, well he ended up facing the barrel of guns and cops telling him to get down. He informed the police I hit him and started the fight which I did none such things cause I wasn't able to get up and defend myself. It took the cops 20 min to get to me that night, and I thought the law said that in cases like that, policy requires that law enforcement arrives within 5 minutes, and he took them 20 minutes to get to me that night. I had so many black and blue marks from him beating me with his fist that my bruises already started appearing cause I bruise easily around my throat and my head was sore and had dark black and blue fist marks. I had to wear a wig anyway due to my hair loss and such, and I had to wear scarves and makeup because of the blueish bruising across my chin.
I never thought that a man like himself could do such harm to someone that was his wife, and someone who was battling cancer to save my life for that I almost died from anyway. I thought we were happy. I did what most victims do. That takes them back and forgive them for beating you and hitting you and abusing you. Well I took him back again, and he was still the same, by drinking and mentally abusive and treating me like shit telling me it's all my fault he drinks, and how much of a lair and cheater I was and that I abused him mentally. That it was my fault, I had cancer. He even told the cops that it was my fault I had cancer. Like, really, wow! How the hell can someone say that fighting cancer and trying to survive it, is my fault. Wow. Well, I am now Single, and Cancer FREE THANK THE LORD. I am so much happier that he is not in my life. So a year goes by, and yes, of course, my dumb-ass took him back once again but I was wiser and told him one smell of the liquor, he was gone. He tried, and at seven, I have kicked his ass out in the street. He has been homeless since then, living in his car and of course telling everyone how much of a bitch I still am and that he wishes I was dead. To this day, try to sucker me into helping him with food and showers and so forth and I almost did but learned I couldn't go thru hell again.I thought he would be my long-term loving Marriage, spouse, husband, my soul mate. I was so wrong to think of him positively. I am now trying to repair my life. I still cry at times. I always wonder why me. I hope one day I will meet my real soul mate and get over what has happened to me during this Domestic Violence life I once had. I figure, I am now a Cancer Survivor, and now I am a Domestic Violence Survivor. My mom always said, Learn to pick yourself up after every fall you make. Well, now I am trying to pick myself up and learn to walk again before I can run. I am still scared of men due to what has happened to me, and I know deep down one day that fear will be gone. I am going to try and be a motivational speaker about things like this.
I am glad you decided to come and read my story. Thank You so much and remember, take your life back and pick yourself up ok. Don't let him WIN.