You Never Know What Happens Behind Closed Doors
Abuse is hidden so well. People can portray themselves one way to others while their true selves only come out behind closed doors. I used to hear “You’re so lucky. He’s so sweet and patient”. What they saw as patience was the inner boiling of anger that would only come out on me later-alone in our home. I had over a decade of always feeling sick in the pit of my stomach as I lived a double life. By day I was smiling, hard working, successful and perky as can be. Then, on the drive home I would be dreading what was waiting for me, wanting so badly to run away but terrified that I had no place to go. Every day I had to go back to the world of the angry unknown where I was always the target. I was well educated, smart – my god I watched Lifetime movies for goodness sake and would call out to the TV screen – “Leave him already!” Yet I stayed.
After a childhood of abuse by men on many levels ( he knew most of my secrets, he knew my insecurities, he knew my fears and he knew how to hurt me) I married someone who was everything I had tried to runaway from. Therapist after therapist told me to leave. People who knew me for years started to slip away because it was too uncomfortable to be around. I would do anything to keep the peace-anything to stop the screaming and the outbursts. I lived in world of denial and tried to convince myself that it would change – that he would change. He made promises all the time he would, but of course that never happened.
I was startled and offended when a while back a mutual friend said, “I know you had troubles when you were together but…” essentially telling me to keep my “troubles” to myself as to not upset him or the people around him. This person had clearly been hearing stories from him – where I was the bad guy and the nasty ex-wife. I’m sorry – do you think the problems we had were on the same page as something like he wouldn’t put the toilet seat down? Really? Troubles? Understatement of the century. While hands never hit me-it was only a moment away. Abuse isn’t just a punch or a kick. It’s things like…
Being pregnant and locking yourself in the bathroom because you’re afraid something is wrong with the baby. When you ask him for help he responds by screaming– so you hide in the bathroom terrified for your unborn child, not knowing what is wrong. He is so angry you fear it will make everything worse. For hours, you stay locked in the bathroom while he is screaming at you as he lays on the couch “what the hell do you want me to do about it!”
It’s having to leave a party early because you see their face because someone did or said something they didn’t like and having to listen to the screaming the whole way home about how they didn’t want to go and are never going there again and you should never have made them go and now it’s all your fault that they are upset and had a bad night.
It’s lying to your friends and family because you are so embarrassed and humiliated that this is your real life. Your acting becomes award winning performances –from Daytime Emmy to Oscar worthy. So, good in fact that you even sometimes almost believe your own stories – because this can’t be your real life.
It’s driving your newborn home from the hospital and having them drive like a maniac, yelling at other drivers and cars because they have to get somewhere - after they drop you off home alone with your newborn baby.
It’s staying up for 2 days straight with a newborn who won’t sleep, with no help and desperately asking for a ride to the babies first doctor appointment because you are afraid to drive as you are too tired and worried about the safety of your child and then having them yell at you, screaming you are selfish, crazy and lazy – they are going to work.
It’s coming home from the hospital after being transported in an ambulance with your 7-day old after calling 911 because she was choking, not breathing and turning blue, and the whole way home getting yelled at because you made him leave work early for nothing.
It’s after finally filing for divorce to be harassed with phone call after phone call, text after text, voicemail after voicemail, being called every horrible offensive name ever spoken or written.
I never said a word about what really went on - except for telling the man who is now my husband. I needed him to understand my constant anxiety, my constant asking if he was angry or upset. It took me years to learn that not all men are monsters. Even after I had left and the divorce was final– the abuse still didn’t stop. The damn broke when things got so bad I was getting phone calls from the east coast from people who I hadn’t heard from or spoken to in years. They were reaching out as they were concerned about my safety and the safety of my daughter. I was terrified and drove right to the police station to file a report. I was immediately directed to the courthouse to speak to a judge so that I could get an emergency order of protection (restraining order). After reviewing the situation and the evidence, the judge signed the order and then pulled me aside and advised me to take my child and get out of town for the weekend as he was concerned about the behavior he saw evidence of-and about what could happen after the restraining order was served. That’s when it really hit me. This was still happening and I was divorced from him. His anger was so out of control – I can only imagine how things would have continued to escalate had I stayed.
A while back (after I had found my way to safety and to happiness) I had lunch with a friend I hadn’t spoken to for years–back then – when I was in it, it was just too hard to keep relationships when I was trying so hard to keep myself and my child safe, while maintaining some sanity. She apologized to me – we didn’t go into detail, but we both knew. She had nothing to apologize for. I told her very little, I didn’t have to. She didn’t need details, she already knew. I remember years before she tried many times to say something – but I always made excuses. It was too hard to admit what was really happening – so it was easier to separate from her than it was from him. How does that make any sense? That’s the point though – I couldn’t tell you why I did or didn’t do anything. Life back then was about just keeping the peace in that one moment – no matter what I had to do.
What I find very interesting is that people seemed (and still are) more concerned about the abuser and his feelings. When the worst was happening, and I had to go to the authorities and ask the court for help, I reached out to many people for help – and only one person stepped forward. People who claimed to love me and care about me ignored my plea for help. I will forever be grateful to the one person who stepped forward to provide the proof I needed to get help and protection from the authorities. Think about that – dozens of people I reached out to and only one helped (you know who you are - there are not enough words to thank you - I owe you so much). The others I never heard from. I can honestly say I would have helped. It’s not about taking sides, when the proof of abuse is there in black and white for all the world to see – how can you sit silently by and not help? Especially when someone is reaching out to you? When there is a child involved? But again – that is the world of abuse and how people choose to handle it, which in many cases means turning away and pretending it doesn’t exist. I know that denial and head turn all too well – as I did it for over 10 years.
What I know now is that I was a victim and I did what I had to do get through each day. What I know now, is I am a survivor who teaches her daughter to be strong, to be honest, to not be afraid to speak up and to demand respect in all her relationships – and to also give it in return. What I know now is that you never know what is happening behind closed doors and if someone is brave enough to step forward and ask for help – you help – however you can. What I know now is that I am worthy of respect, love and safety and I am powerful.
My home now is filled with peace, love and laughter with a man who is kind, gentle, patient and a wonderful father. Looking back, I ask myself – why did I stay? I can’t answer that question. The person I once was is nothing like the woman I am now. I thank my former self for finding her way out, because here I am now – and my life is wonderful. There are stories much worse than mine – I fully acknowledge that, but this is my story.
I would like to leave you with one final take-a-way – please, if you think something is happening, or if someone asks you for help, please do whatever you can to help them, because you never know what happens behind closed doors.
