...but he didn't hit me

TRIGGER WARNING: DOMESTIC VIOLENCE 

I'm speaking more explicitly about physical abuse in this. I understand it may be triggering for some but I felt it was important to talk about. If you feel it would do more harm than good for you personally please don't feel obligated to continue 💕

Here's a picture of my dog for good measure

I sat on the cold tile floor, arms wrapping my knees to my chest and my back against the door, locked in our apartment's tiny bathroom. I hoped that the door would hold while the doorframe shook from his firsts, the vibration carrying through my body. 

"YOU PROMISED FOR BETTER OR WORSE!" 

I could feel myself disassociating. I thought how strange it was that a change in tone made it sound a lot more like a threat than a promise. As he screamed at me for ruining our marriage by not coming out, my cowardice for not facing him, I wasn't even praying for my safety. Instead my prayer was that I wouldn't have to explain a fist-sized hole in the particle board. 

At least the weight of my body against the door would keep it from rattling too loudly. The walls were thin and the neighbor's bedroom was just on the other side. I would have to come up with a reason for him screaming if they made a noise complaint. A video game? A phone call? I'd figure it out later. I couldn't focus when I couldn't tell if I was shaking from emotion or the reverberation of the door. 

I was exhausted. I knew it had started around 10pm. It had to be close to midnight.

I kept trying to slow my breathing, telling myself he would wear out soon. He always did. Besides, this was the fourth time this month, or was it the fifth? I couldn't keep track these days. 

This was my reality, but like he said I had promised for better or worse. In my mind, I had made my choice and now I had to live with the consequences of it. 

My cancer diagnosis started with an ER visit. They couldn't properly diagnose me at the time, but they sent me home with a referral and a prescription for narcotic pain medication, despite not asking for pain relievers. I had been in enough pain I hadn't slept properly in months and I was despite for relief.

The visit had lasted into the early hours of the morning. He asked if I REALLY needed the medication tonight, he was so tired from having to take me to the hospital and he had to work in the morning. I said I could hold out. As he said, I had gone this long without it. I laid awake the rest of the night in tears from the pain.

Between not being able to eat properly, the energy it took to heal, and the chemo making me so sick I was needing IV fluids multiple times a week, I had rapidly dropped somewhere between 50 and 60 pounds. Any muscle tone I had was gone. It was a workout to fold a load of laundry or walk up the stairs. 

I was somewhere around 145lbs and still dropping. He was over 315, more than double my weight. If he got angry he would regularly block pathways, stand in doorways, even lay himself across the stairway to keep me from walking away. He would push "If you loved me you wouldn't need to walk away" "What are you gonna do? Hit me? I'd like to see you try."

I thought he's just angry. I should be able to ride it out. And after all, he said he didn't really mean it. (If that's the best they have to offer after they spend hours berating you, they mean it.)

If your partner has you trapped in a room in your own home and you are afraid to come out, it is abuse.

If they're intentionally picking fights at night to deprive you of sleep, it is abuse.

If they have postured physically with the intent to intimidate, it is abuse.

If they attempt to deprive you of basic needs it is abuse. (Abuse can absolutely be inaction.)

I was miserable and exhausted. I knew it wasn't right but I was afraid I was making a big deal out of nothing (mostly because I was constantly being told I was). These instances were absolutely physical abuse and red flags as to escalating danger. By dismissing them I accidentally put myself squarely in the crosshairs.

April 1st 2020

It's honestly still a bit blurry to me. 

We had gotten into another argument. His job was going completely remote, so was one of my best friend's. She had invited us to come stay for a couple weeks. I realize now she was desperately trying to give me a break and keep me from being in the house alone with him. 

We had both been very careful about quarantine, and she was only a couple hours from my parents. I was thrilled at the idea. He had initially agreed as well. 

I was busy figuring out what I needed to pack as we were planning on leaving in less than a week. I was working on a packing list and making supper for him and his mother when he casually dropped the bomb "Oh that? Were not going." 

"What? Why? No. I.. why?" 

"Well they're going to send me with a computer... I'd have to set it up and I don't know how." 

"What does that have to do with location? Besides its probably a laptop, all you'd really need is..."

"JESUS CHRIST MACKENZIE. I SAID NO. WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE A B*TCH ABOUT EVERYTHING? NOW DROP IT."

We had argued plenty of times before but this felt different. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. He hadn't made a move yet, but I could feel it building like static electricity in the air. 

 I was in danger. 

I shoved past him, ignoring his theatrics as he screamed that I could have seriously hurt him. I got to the bedroom, slammed the door, and threw the lock. I was shaking uncontrollably. I called my friend to stay on the phone with me while I packed a small bag. I had no idea where I would go or for how long. I just knew I wasn't safe here. 

I grabbed my duffel, steeled myself, and with my friend still on video chat, stepped out into the hall, listening carefully from the top of the stairs. 

He was on the phone with one of his friends saying how I "just went crazy and snapped" I didn't care. It was distracting him and that's exactly what I needed. I tried to move quickly and quietly but he saw me. 

He hung up the phone and ran to block the front door announcing that I would not be leaving. Even though I was shaking, I held my ground. "I AM leaving. MOVE."  Unsurprisingly, he didn't budge. 

My friend still on the phone asked me to turn the camera so she could see him. "You need to move. Now."

"STAY OUT OF THIS. THIS IS BETWEEN ME AND HER. THIS IS ABOUT OUR MARRIAGE SO BUTT THE F*$K OUT" 

He was losing control fast. I bolted for the back door. He grabbed me by the bad wrist (surgery left it with quite a bit of nerve damage) and yanked me towards him. I lost my footing and he grabbed me around the middle, hard. 

The surgery had left me with a feeding tube that looked something like this.

The balloon sat in my stomach to hold it in place and the disk sat against my skin while the remainder hung freely.

His hands were on top of where it entered my body and he was squeezing HARD. 

I screamed so loud I surprised myself. It hurt, but more than this this was my only way to take in food, water, and medication. I was panicked.

"STOP! Please! You're hurting me!"

He didn't. 

"LET. GO!" 

Nothing.

"I SWEAR TO GOD LET ME GO OR ILL TELL  OUR PARENTS EVERYTHING."

That did the trick.

He didn't let go, but it made him pause long enough to break his grip.

I bolted for the back door and made it out this time. Unfortunately my car was parked around front. 

As I attempted to get in my car, he stormed out the front door. He slammed the door to my car, narrowly missing my fingers. I stepped back to the sidewalk in an attempt to put some distance between us. 

I watched in horror as I saw his mom's car pull up. I turned to him absolutely incensed.

"You're $hitting me. You said you canceled dinner with her. You lied!" 

He made a grab for me but only got a fist full of my duffel. I dropped it and ran. 

I wove behind buildings and cut through yards so his mom couldn't follow me in her car. 

In the scuffle I had somehow hung up with my friend. She attempted to call me back but he and his mom were both calling nonstop so she couldn't get through. She was obviously worried for my safety, and had her husband call the local police while she contacted my family.

He continued to try to reach me and I finally caved and responded via txt

(He's light blue. I'm dark blue)

The police came and questioned us both. They asked me if I wanted to press charges, or needed an ambulance, but the atmosphere was all business. I was so overwhelmed and embarrassed in the moment I said no. I just wanted it done.

I was bruised around my tube and it was bleeding a bit. I just remember thinking this was the worst April fools joke ever. 

I was always in the camp of "if a guy ever put his hands on me I'd just leave". I thought it would be an obvious choice. But abuse is hardly ever that cut and dry. As many faces as abuse wears, nothing prepares you for it being the face that kisses you goodnight.

He claimed that he was so afraid I would leave for good that the only thing he could think to do was grab onto me and not let go. 

Now I understand how ridiculous it must sound to anyone outside the situation.

The thing was, I WANTED to believe him. Of course I wanted it to be a big misunderstanding. I had left my job, my friends, and my family in IL. I had abandoned my safety net and moved just to be with him. I was trying to build a life there.

None of it read as physical abuse in the lead up because I wasn't injured. Even when he put his hands on me in anger he told me it wasn't like he broke my arm or gave me a black eye. So it wasn't REALLY abuse...

I want to be very clear about this.

They do not have to put their hands on you for it to be physically abusive.