What you're about to read is something that explains certain acts of violence in detail. I don't condone violence of any kind in any type of relationship. This book is to help those who are in a learning process. Therefore, please do not believe that this is my personality now or has it been since the relationship of damage has ended. I've spent a lot of time in prayer and asking God to help me forgive and to be forgiven. This is the point while I give you details of what my relationship of damage did to me and how I became the woman I am today. If not for forgiveness, I'd still be bitter, angry, resentful, regretful or any other word you want to add. Scott and I met in high school. We were in ROTC together. We had the same circle of friends for the most part. He joined the Marines after high school, I attended the local community college. After about five years, we reconnected. I thought maybe we should go out after that first night. Six months passed and arguments were not an unusual action between the two of us. My best friend, Ben, told me that if I didn't stand up for myself, he wouldn't be my friend. I was okay with standing up for myself. One night, I wanted to go to Scott and tell him that if things didn't change soon, I'd be leaving. He apologized and hugged me. And a few minutes after that, an argument started. I was blamed for most of the arguments. Even though I know that asking how someone's day was at work is not starting an argument. But I digress. He called me a name with the word 'stupid' in front of it. If there's anything I hate more than being called any name, being called stupid is at the top of my list of pet peeves! I know I'm not stupid, he knew I'm not stupid. After that, I asked him to repeat himself. He did. I decked him in the face. I don't condone violence in ANY relationship! However, I was dealing with Satan and I acted on instinct. Out of guilt, I drove Scott to the emergency room and I found out that I hit him so hard that I'd broken his nose.
He didn't speak to me for a week. I assumed the relationship was over and just kept about my regular life. I got a phone call from Scott on my day off and he was begging my forgiveness. I said okay and met him for lunch. He then proceeded to tell me that he expected an apology out of me and I plainly told him no because I felt he deserved his punishment. We finished lunch and I followed him back to his apartment. Ladies, if you know that there's a violent streak in a man, do NOT walk into his apartment before him. He has a plan and if he's smart, he'll bring that plan to use. I walked into Scotts apartment first and I heard the door slam behind me. Before I could ask why he'd slammed the door, I was on the floor with a throbbing head. I saw spots! I had no idea what was going on! And then I realized he'd punched me in the head! I didn't know what was going on until I felt something cold against the back of my neck. I'll be honest and tell you that I wasn't sure if it was a knife or a gun. Both of which I know he owned. He threatened my life and I was not going to have that! My dad brought up three daughters and he always told us to tell the truth. And he also taught us that if someone was hurting us in some way and there was only so much that the adults around would or would not do, we could defend ourselves. Remembering this, I grabbed his ankle and twisted. Again, I don't condone violence! This is not who I am! Please, if you take anything away from who I am, I'm the opposite of the person I'm describing that was in this relationship with Scott. My mind was there, my body was there, but who I was deep down wasn't there.
He fell to the ground and whatever was against my neck also hit the ground. I didn't search for it either. I didn't care to search for anything! I put my knee in his back, grabbed both his hands, pinned him to the floor, and whispered in his ear, "Don't ever, EVER threaten to kill me! I know too many people and I will be missed!" At the time, I used other choice words. He freed himself from me and that's when a fight ensued. That's right. When I say fight, I mean fists are flying, legs are kicking and I am winning! I was not going to let him off the floor if I could help it. Someone heard the screaming and the throttling and the police were called. No one was arrested, but I gave them my statement and he gave his. After about a week, he again begged for my forgiveness and sent me roses to my work. At this point, I should've left. I didn't. I was under the impression that I could still change another person. We all know that's not true. Things take an interesting turn. He doesn't lay a hand on me for months. I don't know if he believed that I was willing to fight back. I don't know if he was afraid of me. I was hoping he was afraid of me! I was afraid of him, but I didn't want him to know that. His mother thought I was either too good for him or not good enough for him. It changed week to week. I don't hold a grudge against her. She didn't know her son was a violent person. And if she did, there's nothing I can do about it now. What's in the past is just that... in the past. A few weeks pass and I think everything is honky dory. And they are because we'd celebrated a year of being together. Albeit, it was a violent year, but we were together.
Ben and I were hanging out one night and Scott was really upset about it. Ben and I were at my apartment and I'd just lost my job. I was about to lose my apartment! I just wanted to relax and think about my options. Not stress out quite yet. Scott pulls up and tells me to get in the car. When I say no, he parks his car, gets out and has roses. I'm thinking that he's trying to make up for something. I'm not sure which incident he's trying to make up for, but I'm sure it's something. He'd called me every name in the book already so it was hard to keep up with what he was apologizing for this time. As soon as I saw him, I asked him why he looked freshly showered. Especially when I know he showered every morning before work and he worked in an office environment. He was a very technical guy. He could build a computer from scratch and fix software. Scott wasn't stupid, at least by educational standards. Ignorance is bliss though, right? Scott had met his match physically; even though he was six foot four inches tall and weighed about 175 to 180 pounds. He was skinny, but the Marine Corps put muscle weight on him. And just to clarify, he didn't spend a full four years in the Marine Corps. He said he found a loophole in his contract because he has Tourette's Syndrome. I didn't believe him for a minute! When asked why he was freshly showered, he became very angry! As he got in my face, Ben stepped in front of him. Ben is about six foot four inches tall and about 250 to 300 pounds and clearly outweighing Scott. He took a swing at Ben and that's when I knocked him to the ground and began giving him what I called the windmill. After I'd drawn blood, Ben pulls me off Scott, picks him up, puts him outside, and double bolts the door. I fell on the couch, shaking and crying. Ben calmed me down and said everything was going to be fine. I even made ugly cry face. You have one, too, even if you haven't used it.
The next day, Ben and I were hanging out at my place when I hear a knock at the door. Its a cop wanting my statement from the night before. I looked at Ben and laughed, telling the cop that I did not instigate any fight and that Scott came into my apartment swinging. I never heard from that cop again. If you haven't noticed a pattern here, I was letting Scott come back and I always thought it was my fault. I received a few phone calls from numbers I didn't know. One day, someone finally left a voice mail. It was a woman saying that her boyfriend was cheating on her with me and she wanted to take me down. I called her back and asked her how long she'd been dating Scott and when she said six months, I responded with, "He's my fiance and we've been together for almost two years!" She hung up the phone never to be heard from again. It explained so much! I will confess that since I believed he and I were going to be married, we behaved like married people and that's not a good idea! Please stay away from that! It doesn't do any good to behave like a married couple when you aren't a married couple! I approached Scott, asking him who Janelle was. His eyes got big. He didn't say anything. His facial expression went from surprise to anger in a matter of seconds. He accused me of being a liar until I let him hear the voice mail she'd left me. He reached for my phone. I put it away, grabbed my keys and left him sitting in the restaurant. I had nothing to say to him. I needed time alone. So I went to hang out with Ben. Makes sense, right? But as you know, most women don't like to be alone. Unless she's spent that last 8 hours with screaming children and no food or drink or even a bathroom break. I let Ben listen to the voice mail and he gave me the "I told you so" look. He knew Scott was cheating before I did. I suspected the behavior, but didn't have evidence until this point.
The violence hadn't stopped. I'd actually go to work with bruises on my arms and face. I wore makeup, which is unusual for me. I'm not the type to always do my makeup, not even for work. I think my boss thought something was strange, but he never said anything for fear of hurting my feelings. I wondered for a long time why no one said anything. I understand now why. The reason is because I know what it's like to be on the outside looking in now. However, I realized that if I see the signs, then I need to ask my questions carefully and proceed with caution. At one point, Scott and I were arguing over movies. Which movies had I bought, which movies had he bought, which ones could I take home and keep. What should've been an easy conversation turned into probably the second biggest fight he and I had ever had in the course of our relationship. He said that I couldn't have a movie because I'd not paid my dues to him. I'd paid for the movie, I told him. I didn't owe him any dues. This was the first time he'd made a fist and aimed for my face. He'd always hit me open handed on the face until this time. Well... or so he thought. I ducked, got him in the gut, pushed him down and asked him what he was thinking. It took him a minute to answer because I had good aim when it came to his diaphragm. Him being six foot four inches and me a whole five feet zero inches, I knew exactly where to jab. After a few choice names, he told me that I needed to leave. I said no and after balancing on his feet, he took another swing at me. I ducked again, lunged at him and threw him to the floor. I sat on him, pinned his arms with my knees, tucked my feet under him, and asked him what his goal was. His legs were moving rapidly and my knees were slowly but surely losing their grip on his arms. His knee hit my lower back. Hard. My fist came down on his jaw even harder. He stopped moving his legs and was breathing heavily. I'd drawn blood. From a broken tooth. Not that it mattered. His teeth were beginning to rot from all the cigarettes and beer. He'd had four dental appointments or surgeries in two months. I found out later there was drug use. Like the cheating, I'd suspected it, but never confirmed. When I saw that I'd drawn blood, I again asked him what his goal was. And why he'd started a fight over movies.
His answer was simple in his head. I didn't deserve any type of entertainment if he couldn't have it either. While this logic may work for toddlers, we were adults in our twenties. He kneed me in the back two more times, I landed on the ground and he was standing over me. He was forgetting that he was exposed! He didn't hold me down or try to fight me any more. He just stood there waiting for me to say something. I didn't have to say anything. I just glared and stood up. He got down to his knees and said he was sorry for everything. That's when I noticed it. His pistol was on his desk just over his right shoulder. I knew where this was going to lead. My first thought was I didn't want to die. But it was quickly replaced with the thought of dying while fighting. He picked it up, pointed at me and told me to sit down. I did and reached for his hand. Tears filling and leaving my eyes, I grabbed his wrist, pulled him closer, and told him to pull the trigger. I also told him to make it a clean shot so my mother wouldn't have trouble identifying me. I was perfectly willing to die that night. And here's why. I know that my family and friends would seek justice for me. I know that there are people out there that love me. I know that he wouldn't get away with it. As I said before, that was the second worst fight he and I ever had. Not many people know that he held a gun to me. I could've pressed charges. But I didn't. I seriously thought I could change him. And I couldn't. When he put the gun down, I didn't make any sudden movements because if I knew that he was capable of holding a gun to my chest and my head, what else would he be capable of?
After that night, I saw him a week or two later. He again sent flowers to my job with a very sweet card. I was very apprehensive! He would call and he would text. Then once he got comfortable the fights started again. He'd call me this, I'd call him that, he'd smack me and I'd hit him back. And the end came. My sister was about to enter her second year of graduate school at a college in a different town and I'd just lost my job and my car. Things were going downhill fast for me. She suggested that I move to that town where she was going to school. I had the money and the resources. I became excited for a new start in my life! I needed it! I told everyone else before I told Scott what was happening. A week prior to my move, I told my church home group that I was moving away and I knew that if I'd said it in a group setting, Scott couldn't raise his hand to me. He just gave me a couple of angry looks and waited. Once in the car, he began screaming at me. Screaming turned into pleading. I even knew him well enough that I knew what he would say. "What about us? Why are you leaving me? How can you do this to me?" My answer was simple. I told him, "I need to move away from you. I need to be independent from my parents. And I really need to start over." All of it was true. And it still rings true! I needed to be away from him. We got to his apartment and this is where the worst fight of our relationship started. The way I argue is by walking around. And he'd follow me. His apartment wasn't very big but only he lived there, so it worked out. It ended up where he had his back to the sliding glass door of his patio. I picked up the cat and holed her up in the bedroom. It was fine because she could still reach her litter box and her food and water. He argued that I couldn't take movies that I know that I paid for and I couldn't move because he wouldn't allow me to move. I'd already paid a deposit on an apartment. And I told him that. He said that I wasn't going anyway and to get my money back. I told him no. I wanted this new life. I wanted to grow without him to stifle me. He called me a name that NO WOMAN wants to be called. And due to the fact that this book is about God, I will not repeat it. I asked him to repeat it and he did. Adrenaline was building. He still had his back to the glass patio door, almost leaning on it. I asked him a third time to repeat it. He did. That's when I can honestly say that I saw red and rage allowed me to pick up this six foot four inch, 175-pound, grown man and throw him through the window. That's right. I picked him up and threw him through that window. When I snapped back, I was shaking. No I take that back. I was quaking. My knees and ankles were like jello. I went out to pick Scott up off the ground and he was bleeding. I said that he tripped over the cat. He looked at me and saw the look of rage in my eyes and agreed that's what happened. I walked out of his apartment, all the way to a 7-11 and called Ben. I told him to pick me up and look for me at that particular store. About fifteen to twenty minutes later, he shows up and he sees the blood all over my shirt. His eyes got wide and he asked what I'd done. I told him the truth because no one can lie to their best friend! Ben took me to the hospital to have me at least checked out because my adrenaline hadn't slowed down yet. And he also pointed out that the police would more than likely be involved. He was right.
I went to the hospital, told them an altered version of the truth and they released me after I'd calmed down. I'm telling you that I have never, ever done anything like that again. Nor do I want to do anything like that again. So if you're reading this and you feel you want to stop reading, I would ask that you keep going because I'm not done. I want this to be a learning experience for those that have any contact with abuse in any kind of relationship. And if my experience can help you in your current situation or in a future situation, then I feel better knowing that I could help someone, no matter what. When I moved away from my hometown, I felt bitter, angry, and resentful. Never a good combination. In my new home, I found friends quickly, but still went through withdrawals. I was angry with God, not just at God. That's when I met Travis. He was sent by God. He may not say that, but that's how I feel. He was sent by God to tell me that I'm bigger than this resentment, anger and bitterness. I was supposed to forgive Scott, but most of all, I need to forgive myself. I may have chosen to stay with Scott. I just needed to let that go within myself and then give it to God and let Him take care of it. The abuse was not my fault! Not in any way shape or form. It took me a year to forgive myself. It took me about eight or nine months to forgive Scott. I taped the engagement ring he bought me to a letter and mailed it off. Once I put the letter in the slot, I giggled like a little school girl getting a note from a boy. I got some strange looks but it felt so wonderful to get that weight lifted! I still dealt with a lot of emotional baggage, but I found peace. I forgave! It's the hardest action in the world! Even for a seven letter word.
He didn't speak to me for a week. I assumed the relationship was over and just kept about my regular life. I got a phone call from Scott on my day off and he was begging my forgiveness. I said okay and met him for lunch. He then proceeded to tell me that he expected an apology out of me and I plainly told him no because I felt he deserved his punishment. We finished lunch and I followed him back to his apartment. Ladies, if you know that there's a violent streak in a man, do NOT walk into his apartment before him. He has a plan and if he's smart, he'll bring that plan to use. I walked into Scotts apartment first and I heard the door slam behind me. Before I could ask why he'd slammed the door, I was on the floor with a throbbing head. I saw spots! I had no idea what was going on! And then I realized he'd punched me in the head! I didn't know what was going on until I felt something cold against the back of my neck. I'll be honest and tell you that I wasn't sure if it was a knife or a gun. Both of which I know he owned. He threatened my life and I was not going to have that! My dad brought up three daughters and he always told us to tell the truth. And he also taught us that if someone was hurting us in some way and there was only so much that the adults around would or would not do, we could defend ourselves. Remembering this, I grabbed his ankle and twisted. Again, I don't condone violence! This is not who I am! Please, if you take anything away from who I am, I'm the opposite of the person I'm describing that was in this relationship with Scott. My mind was there, my body was there, but who I was deep down wasn't there.
He fell to the ground and whatever was against my neck also hit the ground. I didn't search for it either. I didn't care to search for anything! I put my knee in his back, grabbed both his hands, pinned him to the floor, and whispered in his ear, "Don't ever, EVER threaten to kill me! I know too many people and I will be missed!" At the time, I used other choice words. He freed himself from me and that's when a fight ensued. That's right. When I say fight, I mean fists are flying, legs are kicking and I am winning! I was not going to let him off the floor if I could help it. Someone heard the screaming and the throttling and the police were called. No one was arrested, but I gave them my statement and he gave his. After about a week, he again begged for my forgiveness and sent me roses to my work. At this point, I should've left. I didn't. I was under the impression that I could still change another person. We all know that's not true. Things take an interesting turn. He doesn't lay a hand on me for months. I don't know if he believed that I was willing to fight back. I don't know if he was afraid of me. I was hoping he was afraid of me! I was afraid of him, but I didn't want him to know that. His mother thought I was either too good for him or not good enough for him. It changed week to week. I don't hold a grudge against her. She didn't know her son was a violent person. And if she did, there's nothing I can do about it now. What's in the past is just that... in the past. A few weeks pass and I think everything is honky dory. And they are because we'd celebrated a year of being together. Albeit, it was a violent year, but we were together.
Ben and I were hanging out one night and Scott was really upset about it. Ben and I were at my apartment and I'd just lost my job. I was about to lose my apartment! I just wanted to relax and think about my options. Not stress out quite yet. Scott pulls up and tells me to get in the car. When I say no, he parks his car, gets out and has roses. I'm thinking that he's trying to make up for something. I'm not sure which incident he's trying to make up for, but I'm sure it's something. He'd called me every name in the book already so it was hard to keep up with what he was apologizing for this time. As soon as I saw him, I asked him why he looked freshly showered. Especially when I know he showered every morning before work and he worked in an office environment. He was a very technical guy. He could build a computer from scratch and fix software. Scott wasn't stupid, at least by educational standards. Ignorance is bliss though, right? Scott had met his match physically; even though he was six foot four inches tall and weighed about 175 to 180 pounds. He was skinny, but the Marine Corps put muscle weight on him. And just to clarify, he didn't spend a full four years in the Marine Corps. He said he found a loophole in his contract because he has Tourette's Syndrome. I didn't believe him for a minute! When asked why he was freshly showered, he became very angry! As he got in my face, Ben stepped in front of him. Ben is about six foot four inches tall and about 250 to 300 pounds and clearly outweighing Scott. He took a swing at Ben and that's when I knocked him to the ground and began giving him what I called the windmill. After I'd drawn blood, Ben pulls me off Scott, picks him up, puts him outside, and double bolts the door. I fell on the couch, shaking and crying. Ben calmed me down and said everything was going to be fine. I even made ugly cry face. You have one, too, even if you haven't used it.
The next day, Ben and I were hanging out at my place when I hear a knock at the door. Its a cop wanting my statement from the night before. I looked at Ben and laughed, telling the cop that I did not instigate any fight and that Scott came into my apartment swinging. I never heard from that cop again. If you haven't noticed a pattern here, I was letting Scott come back and I always thought it was my fault. I received a few phone calls from numbers I didn't know. One day, someone finally left a voice mail. It was a woman saying that her boyfriend was cheating on her with me and she wanted to take me down. I called her back and asked her how long she'd been dating Scott and when she said six months, I responded with, "He's my fiance and we've been together for almost two years!" She hung up the phone never to be heard from again. It explained so much! I will confess that since I believed he and I were going to be married, we behaved like married people and that's not a good idea! Please stay away from that! It doesn't do any good to behave like a married couple when you aren't a married couple! I approached Scott, asking him who Janelle was. His eyes got big. He didn't say anything. His facial expression went from surprise to anger in a matter of seconds. He accused me of being a liar until I let him hear the voice mail she'd left me. He reached for my phone. I put it away, grabbed my keys and left him sitting in the restaurant. I had nothing to say to him. I needed time alone. So I went to hang out with Ben. Makes sense, right? But as you know, most women don't like to be alone. Unless she's spent that last 8 hours with screaming children and no food or drink or even a bathroom break. I let Ben listen to the voice mail and he gave me the "I told you so" look. He knew Scott was cheating before I did. I suspected the behavior, but didn't have evidence until this point.
The violence hadn't stopped. I'd actually go to work with bruises on my arms and face. I wore makeup, which is unusual for me. I'm not the type to always do my makeup, not even for work. I think my boss thought something was strange, but he never said anything for fear of hurting my feelings. I wondered for a long time why no one said anything. I understand now why. The reason is because I know what it's like to be on the outside looking in now. However, I realized that if I see the signs, then I need to ask my questions carefully and proceed with caution. At one point, Scott and I were arguing over movies. Which movies had I bought, which movies had he bought, which ones could I take home and keep. What should've been an easy conversation turned into probably the second biggest fight he and I had ever had in the course of our relationship. He said that I couldn't have a movie because I'd not paid my dues to him. I'd paid for the movie, I told him. I didn't owe him any dues. This was the first time he'd made a fist and aimed for my face. He'd always hit me open handed on the face until this time. Well... or so he thought. I ducked, got him in the gut, pushed him down and asked him what he was thinking. It took him a minute to answer because I had good aim when it came to his diaphragm. Him being six foot four inches and me a whole five feet zero inches, I knew exactly where to jab. After a few choice names, he told me that I needed to leave. I said no and after balancing on his feet, he took another swing at me. I ducked again, lunged at him and threw him to the floor. I sat on him, pinned his arms with my knees, tucked my feet under him, and asked him what his goal was. His legs were moving rapidly and my knees were slowly but surely losing their grip on his arms. His knee hit my lower back. Hard. My fist came down on his jaw even harder. He stopped moving his legs and was breathing heavily. I'd drawn blood. From a broken tooth. Not that it mattered. His teeth were beginning to rot from all the cigarettes and beer. He'd had four dental appointments or surgeries in two months. I found out later there was drug use. Like the cheating, I'd suspected it, but never confirmed. When I saw that I'd drawn blood, I again asked him what his goal was. And why he'd started a fight over movies.
His answer was simple in his head. I didn't deserve any type of entertainment if he couldn't have it either. While this logic may work for toddlers, we were adults in our twenties. He kneed me in the back two more times, I landed on the ground and he was standing over me. He was forgetting that he was exposed! He didn't hold me down or try to fight me any more. He just stood there waiting for me to say something. I didn't have to say anything. I just glared and stood up. He got down to his knees and said he was sorry for everything. That's when I noticed it. His pistol was on his desk just over his right shoulder. I knew where this was going to lead. My first thought was I didn't want to die. But it was quickly replaced with the thought of dying while fighting. He picked it up, pointed at me and told me to sit down. I did and reached for his hand. Tears filling and leaving my eyes, I grabbed his wrist, pulled him closer, and told him to pull the trigger. I also told him to make it a clean shot so my mother wouldn't have trouble identifying me. I was perfectly willing to die that night. And here's why. I know that my family and friends would seek justice for me. I know that there are people out there that love me. I know that he wouldn't get away with it. As I said before, that was the second worst fight he and I ever had. Not many people know that he held a gun to me. I could've pressed charges. But I didn't. I seriously thought I could change him. And I couldn't. When he put the gun down, I didn't make any sudden movements because if I knew that he was capable of holding a gun to my chest and my head, what else would he be capable of?
After that night, I saw him a week or two later. He again sent flowers to my job with a very sweet card. I was very apprehensive! He would call and he would text. Then once he got comfortable the fights started again. He'd call me this, I'd call him that, he'd smack me and I'd hit him back. And the end came. My sister was about to enter her second year of graduate school at a college in a different town and I'd just lost my job and my car. Things were going downhill fast for me. She suggested that I move to that town where she was going to school. I had the money and the resources. I became excited for a new start in my life! I needed it! I told everyone else before I told Scott what was happening. A week prior to my move, I told my church home group that I was moving away and I knew that if I'd said it in a group setting, Scott couldn't raise his hand to me. He just gave me a couple of angry looks and waited. Once in the car, he began screaming at me. Screaming turned into pleading. I even knew him well enough that I knew what he would say. "What about us? Why are you leaving me? How can you do this to me?" My answer was simple. I told him, "I need to move away from you. I need to be independent from my parents. And I really need to start over." All of it was true. And it still rings true! I needed to be away from him. We got to his apartment and this is where the worst fight of our relationship started. The way I argue is by walking around. And he'd follow me. His apartment wasn't very big but only he lived there, so it worked out. It ended up where he had his back to the sliding glass door of his patio. I picked up the cat and holed her up in the bedroom. It was fine because she could still reach her litter box and her food and water. He argued that I couldn't take movies that I know that I paid for and I couldn't move because he wouldn't allow me to move. I'd already paid a deposit on an apartment. And I told him that. He said that I wasn't going anyway and to get my money back. I told him no. I wanted this new life. I wanted to grow without him to stifle me. He called me a name that NO WOMAN wants to be called. And due to the fact that this book is about God, I will not repeat it. I asked him to repeat it and he did. Adrenaline was building. He still had his back to the glass patio door, almost leaning on it. I asked him a third time to repeat it. He did. That's when I can honestly say that I saw red and rage allowed me to pick up this six foot four inch, 175-pound, grown man and throw him through the window. That's right. I picked him up and threw him through that window. When I snapped back, I was shaking. No I take that back. I was quaking. My knees and ankles were like jello. I went out to pick Scott up off the ground and he was bleeding. I said that he tripped over the cat. He looked at me and saw the look of rage in my eyes and agreed that's what happened. I walked out of his apartment, all the way to a 7-11 and called Ben. I told him to pick me up and look for me at that particular store. About fifteen to twenty minutes later, he shows up and he sees the blood all over my shirt. His eyes got wide and he asked what I'd done. I told him the truth because no one can lie to their best friend! Ben took me to the hospital to have me at least checked out because my adrenaline hadn't slowed down yet. And he also pointed out that the police would more than likely be involved. He was right.
I went to the hospital, told them an altered version of the truth and they released me after I'd calmed down. I'm telling you that I have never, ever done anything like that again. Nor do I want to do anything like that again. So if you're reading this and you feel you want to stop reading, I would ask that you keep going because I'm not done. I want this to be a learning experience for those that have any contact with abuse in any kind of relationship. And if my experience can help you in your current situation or in a future situation, then I feel better knowing that I could help someone, no matter what. When I moved away from my hometown, I felt bitter, angry, and resentful. Never a good combination. In my new home, I found friends quickly, but still went through withdrawals. I was angry with God, not just at God. That's when I met Travis. He was sent by God. He may not say that, but that's how I feel. He was sent by God to tell me that I'm bigger than this resentment, anger and bitterness. I was supposed to forgive Scott, but most of all, I need to forgive myself. I may have chosen to stay with Scott. I just needed to let that go within myself and then give it to God and let Him take care of it. The abuse was not my fault! Not in any way shape or form. It took me a year to forgive myself. It took me about eight or nine months to forgive Scott. I taped the engagement ring he bought me to a letter and mailed it off. Once I put the letter in the slot, I giggled like a little school girl getting a note from a boy. I got some strange looks but it felt so wonderful to get that weight lifted! I still dealt with a lot of emotional baggage, but I found peace. I forgave! It's the hardest action in the world! Even for a seven letter word.
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