Daniel came back with my keys, and we hurriedly got into my car. As he gave me the keys,
I locked the doors as fast as I could. My (then) husband came walking in front of my car. I was determined to get out of there. All I remember was putting the car in reverse and my (then husband) running down the driveway as we were backing up. I got to the end of the driveway, never looking to see if anything was coming, and the next thing I know my (then) husband was diving onto the hood of my car. He was yelling,"I'm sorry and I'll never do it again," but at that point something snapped in me. I thought to myself, "Enough is enough."
Thinking back on that day now, when my then husband was gripping the hood of my car, it almost seemed as if he was trying to hold on to any shred of life left. He had a moment of clarity, only to realize that his family was slipping through his fingers because of all that had taken place.
I was in a daze and in total shock as I drove around for one hour not knowing what I was going to do next. I knew I could not go back to him. For whatever reason, I did not want to go to my mom and dad's house. I ended up going to my aunt's house and she kept telling me that I should go to my parents, so I did.
I was so ashamed because this happened to me. I hated it for my kids and everyone else that had to be around me. Everyone looked at me with pity in their eyes, awkwardly shifting their weight from one side to the other if they happened to run in to me while I was in town. In some ways, that made things worse because people didn't know what to say. I just wanted to be treated like a normal person, but what had happened to me was anything but normal.
Later that day, I decided I should go to the hospital to let the doctor look at me. I probably looked awful, but at least I was alive. I can remember laying on the hospital and hearing footsteps that sounded just like my (then) husband's boots coming down the hall. That sound was ingrained into every fiber of my being, so it was hard to adjust to sounds of every day living and not experience that dreadful fear that feels as if its going to leap out of your chest.
After what seemed like forever, the nurse came and did the x-rays. No broken bones. I did have some damage to my right ear where the cartilage had been torn, and the ER doctor said it may be permanent. While me (and my children) were free from that prison physically, I wasn't free mentally.
To be continued...
I locked the doors as fast as I could. My (then) husband came walking in front of my car. I was determined to get out of there. All I remember was putting the car in reverse and my (then husband) running down the driveway as we were backing up. I got to the end of the driveway, never looking to see if anything was coming, and the next thing I know my (then) husband was diving onto the hood of my car. He was yelling,"I'm sorry and I'll never do it again," but at that point something snapped in me. I thought to myself, "Enough is enough."
Thinking back on that day now, when my then husband was gripping the hood of my car, it almost seemed as if he was trying to hold on to any shred of life left. He had a moment of clarity, only to realize that his family was slipping through his fingers because of all that had taken place.
I was in a daze and in total shock as I drove around for one hour not knowing what I was going to do next. I knew I could not go back to him. For whatever reason, I did not want to go to my mom and dad's house. I ended up going to my aunt's house and she kept telling me that I should go to my parents, so I did.
I was so ashamed because this happened to me. I hated it for my kids and everyone else that had to be around me. Everyone looked at me with pity in their eyes, awkwardly shifting their weight from one side to the other if they happened to run in to me while I was in town. In some ways, that made things worse because people didn't know what to say. I just wanted to be treated like a normal person, but what had happened to me was anything but normal.
Later that day, I decided I should go to the hospital to let the doctor look at me. I probably looked awful, but at least I was alive. I can remember laying on the hospital and hearing footsteps that sounded just like my (then) husband's boots coming down the hall. That sound was ingrained into every fiber of my being, so it was hard to adjust to sounds of every day living and not experience that dreadful fear that feels as if its going to leap out of your chest.
After what seemed like forever, the nurse came and did the x-rays. No broken bones. I did have some damage to my right ear where the cartilage had been torn, and the ER doctor said it may be permanent. While me (and my children) were free from that prison physically, I wasn't free mentally.
To be continued...
1 comment:
Thank goodness you had the strength to escape!
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