Not so picture perfect marriage

It's super simple for people to say to you, "Why do you stay there? Just leave and get out!" Typical response from someone who has never been abused before in their life. But the problem was that I wanted out of my dad's house so bad, that as soon as I turned 18, I moved in with the new guy I had been dating from my work. 

He was 32 and I was 18. I already knew he didn't treat women well because I had met his ex-wife. She had divorced him a few years before for always beating her up very badly. I didn't care about that. He was going to be different with me. After already  being abused in my childhood home by my father for 11 years or more, I really don't think I cared. I moved with him to his home on Monkey Island, Oklahoma.

He introduced me to meth and marijuana. I didn't do meth often, but I would snort it when we would have parties with his friends or family. I think everyone on Monkey Island either did meth, sold meth or made meth. I never really understood the love for meth that people had around that area. I did love to smoke pot though. I smoked pot everyday. I also drank beer on a quite often occasion.

It wasn't until about 7 months of living together when he started acting out towards me in unacceptable ways. When he would get angry he would scream, cuss, push and he even ripped my shirt off at a party in front of the company because he said I wanted to be a slut. He would force me to give him oral sex and he would have sex with me when I asked him not to. Yes, I stayed....I only snorted meth for about 3 months because I didn't like it and I saw how it would make him act when he would come down off of it. Each day as time moved on, I noticed him changing becoming angrier and more angrier with me each day. 

I ended up getting pregnant with our daughter at 21, and through that time he never would hit me, but he would yell and throw things if I didn't keep the house to his liking. And I never understood because I kept a very nice house on top of working a full-time job plus commuting all the way to Joplin, Missouri for work everyday. He just wasn't happy unless he was bitching. But I don't know why I loved him so much. I was so in love with him. 

After our daughter Jessica was born, things changed. He got very physically abusive with me. He treated me like a was a slave. He didn't care where we were at if he wanted to slap me or hit  me, he would do it. One day at work, he beat me up in front of everyone we worked with because he accused me of flirting with someone. We worked for his family, so everyone only watched and turned to walk away. Even his mother looked at me and said, "That's a shame." I think everyone was just scared of him as I was. 

The fighting got so bad the cops were always being called from the neighbors hearing me scream for help. The cops would come, take pictures of my wounds and haul him off to jail. The next day, I'd be right up at the court house with a bail bondsman to get him out. He would be all nice and say sorry and pretend to love me. I can say that I know I was brainwashed. He would always tell me that now that I had a kid that I'd never be good enough for any other man. No one would ever want me. I got to where I would look in the mirror and just cry. I left one abusive situation for another one. And I was stuck!

We ended up having a son almost 2 years later and we named him Nathanial. At this point after having our son, the abuse had gotten very bad. When I was 8 months pregnant with our son we were commuting to work one morning and he was yelling, ranting and raving at me. He started slapping me so I jumped out of the truck at a stop sign. I was going to walk back home. I told him I was leaving him once and for all. He turned the truck around and started chasing me trying to run over me. I ran into the ditch and kept running because honestly, I didn't think he would do what he did. Full blast he came at me and rammed the truck into the ditch and hit the side of me knocking me over onto the ground. He stopped and told me if I didn't get into the truck he would kill me. Scared and crying historically, I got back into the truck.

And just so you know, I did try to leave him many times. But the last time was the worst. I had plans to leave for good. When he went out with the guys one night, I packed just enough things for my two children and I to leave. I hid them in small bags in the back of thee closet where I knew they wouldn't be seen and I planned to stay home from work the next day to finally leave. I had plans for a family member to pick me up and keep us safe. Nope, soon as he got home he found the bags that I have packed almost like he had been watching me. He started beating me severely, spitting in my face. He had me pinned up against a wall choking me and then threw me on the floor and was kicking me in the ribs. Right in front of our kids. Our little girl was hiding under the coffee table yelling, crying and begging him to stop and he still wouldn't stop beating me.

He picked up up and threw me out the front door. He said, "You want out? I'll put you out for good!" He got our marriage licenses and brought it outside and put in on fire and threw it on me. I had hairspray in my hair of course. I mean it was the 90's. All of my hair caught on fire and I went frantic putting it out. I was screaming at the top of my lungs when he pointed his gun at my head and told me to shut up. We lived in a small area about 2 blocks behind a fire station and thank God because firefighters saved my life that night. They heard my screams and seen the fire, so they had already started literally sprinting to our home by the time he had the gun to my head. 

That was the last time I was ever beat by him. He was arrested, and the next day, I wasn't there to get him out of jail. Instead I packed up all my things and my children's things while he was still in jail and we moved to Missouri to a woman's shelter. I had so many injuries. My ribs were bruised, a few broken so I could hardly walk, the skin on the inside of my cheeks were literally worn off from him punching me so it was hard to talk. a big part of my hair was burned off and I had cuts and bruises all over my body. It was just a nightmare. I am a blessing to have had the firefighters that night to rescue me and my children.

That was the very short version of the 13 years I spent with him. But I did try to leave several times. It was just easier to stay in the moment than to suffer the consequences of getting caught trying to leave. I never went back to him after finally getting away.

If you or anyone you know are being abused in anyway by anyone, please go to my "Resources for Recovery" page and find the right link to get help!
But I beg you! Please never give up trying to get away. I am lucky to be here today.
Your life matters and you're very important to me!

xoxoxoxo Michelle Neal