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Posts Tagged ‘The EX Files’

He made her feel like she wasn’t worth anything as her tears fell at his feet, she looked in the mirror and couldn’t see herself anymore, she only saw what he wanted her to be…and she was only what he wanted to see….from denying her for not accepting to do as he wanted. She had to accept his terms or be fucked, figuratively not literally.

So she let her hair down, made her face up, put on her heels, her prettiest dress and walked on out. she did what few will dare to do, some look at her with envy and others not so much….in the end it doesn’t matter… she will walk toward the door, walk out, face the night, whether it is dark or lit by a million stars and the world will be hers once again. She is at peace with finding herself.

The one thought she has come to find comfort in is that she is only herself when she is alone. She doesn’t have to give herself and who she is, who she can be for anyone that can’t accept her for her. No more insecure, immature and jealous anyone’s to hold her back and hold her down.

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A while back I began a series of short stories I wrote and filed under “The Write Stuff” https://rubycantu.wordpress.com/category/the-write-stuff/  these are/were based on my own personal experiences as well as others from when I worked in a Domestic Violence shelter and answered the hotline and helped battered women escape their abusive situations. When I started this project I really had no idea what the impact would be on my readers, I have a faithful reader who shared my stories with a friend of hers that was going through a horrific situation. She simply asked her friend to read them in hopes that she would recognize herself in these stories, and it worked. Through private emails we chatted for a while and finally she worked up the courage to call me and tell me her story, she wants me to write her story and it is something I am working on. She isn’t ready to see it on a screen yet and I am sure the story isn’t finished yet. But she took the first step and contacted the National Domestic Violence Hotline. http://www.ndvh.org/

Help is available to callers 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. Hotline advocates are available for victims and anyone calling on their behalf to provide crisis intervention, safety planning, information and referrals to agencies in all 50 states, Puerto Rico and the U.S. Virgin Islands. Assistance is available in English and Spanish with access to more than 170 languages through interpreter services. If you or someone you know is frightened about something in your relationship, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1−800−799−SAFE (7233) or TTY 1−800−787−3224.

We have since had a series of calls between us and shared tears as well as laughter and she now has hope, the most powerful thing she has told me or that anyone has ever told me is that she now has hope. That I gave her hope. That sends chills down my spine, I wasn’t looking to have that powerful of an impact on anyone but it is life changing in a way to know that because of me she has made the decision to seek help and hope.

This has made me consider the idea of perhaps returning to this type of work once I am released to enter the work force. The only thing about that is that on a local level I may not be able to do it, I would have to look into who is running our local facility. One of the reasons that I left it before was due to the politics of the staff and an entanglement I found myself involved in that sucked the life out of me. But I am older and somewhat wiser now…..I think…lol.

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To read the complete series go to “CATEGORIES” on the right side and click on “THE WRITE STUFF”.

...try making them something they're not~

 I used to hate a lot of things around me, things like….well everything. I hated the world. I didn’t want to hate it, but I felt it hated me. I didn’t belong anywhere, because I had been everywhere….and everywhere is an exaggeration, I haven’t exactly been a world traveler, moving around after leaving home….living out of boxes, unpacking the boxes, throwing them out and then looking for new boxes to pack up yet again. I had seen, heard and been too many different things. I was a rebel, the perfect child, the problem child, the favorite child, the nerd, the angry one, the skinny one, the too tall one, the one with the bad acne problem, the one with the hair that was uncontrollable, the list of what I was and what I wasn’t was long. I was looked up to and looked down on. I was almost every type of person you could put a label on, but nobody who really knew me could fit me into a stereotype. I didn’t fit in anywhere. I didn’t belong anywhere. ..Some days I still feel that I don’t quite fit in.

I remember the first time I saw him. He looked shy but I didn’t think too much about him then. I just went on with my regular daily life. I had no idea then how much he would affect me, how much he would mean to me, how much I would love and respect him. How much he would change my life. That was before I loved him, before the long talks about anything and everything in the evenings, when we would just lay in bed, he over there and me over here, hours upon hours on the phone. We would talk about life and love and work and this and that and the other.

I remember the first time I knew I had fallen for him, no I don’t remember the day or the hour, but I just knew.  I also knew that he had started to feel the same for me, and I knew that I needed to hear it coming from him. It was torturous, the phone calls, the distance that separated us.

From then on our love grew and flourished and the distance was an obstacle we worked with- not against. Sometimes we would just sit and talk about the most random things and talk about seeing each other and we told each other we couldn’t wait to be together forever. And we couldn’t wait to see each other, it was love and it was real.

It felt wonderful. I could finally be myself. At the same time, I was scared. There was still the possibility that he, like so many other people, would not accept me for who I was. He gave life meaning.

In time reality would rear its ugly head and confirm to me that he would not be able to accept me for who I was. The desire to change me into something that I could never be, something foreign to me, a good person, I just knew that could never be.

Back to being that me that would hide behind silence, no longer an open book, no longer willing to listen to the accusations, the imagined wrongs. Back to being that person that hated everything and everyone, in that world there is no one that wants to change me and I am accepted as I am. Love me as I am or don’t love me at all.

Disclaimer**Given the nature of the books I have been reading lately I am inspired to write a few short stories revisiting parts of my life that included episodes of domestic violence….I will be calling this series “The Ex Files” very clever right….lol….I thought so….it will be an amalgamation of my personal experiences steeped with those of others that I was very close to. The parallels are uncanny in some instances….but the patterns of abusers and abusees are almost always the same…it’s like the same behaviors are either taught to the next generation or there are some secret classes being held somewhere in some secret location.**

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***To read the complete series go to “CATEGORIES” on the right side and click on “THE WRITE STUFF”.***

She realized that he was an insecure man, jealous, controlling and not all together very bright, but he also had a mean streak to him that terrified her. She had in mind that her vows were meant to last a lifetime, but would she? Every day the reminders of her stupidity were repeated, he could not let her get out of the house without reminding her that she was his.

In another world, the one where she would go to for her job, she had friends, she had laughter and she had freedom. There she could be herself, she could have articulate conversations, she could share a joke, her friends got her sense of humor, they didn’t judge her, and they didn’t want to change her. She was perfect just the way she was. She was the only one that could not see it.

He began to notice the changes in her and determined that he did not like where things were going. He could see that she had begun to rebel against him, he wasn’t going to allow that. He began to call her throughout the work day; it got to where she had to stay close by the phone when the clock indicated his shift at his job had ended. She was embarrassed that he was calling her so much; she didn’t want her coworkers to hear her conversations with him. She would have to reassure him that she was indeed at work that was confirmed by her answering the phone. When she didn’t answer he would berate her for not getting to the phone, she tried to explain to him that at times she would be assisting customers making it impossible for her to get to the phone.

One beautiful spring day was marred by the reflection hitting a vehicle out in the parking lot and shining into the store front window. Her coworkers came to her and warned her to be careful when she left home after her shift ended, they had noted the car and its driver parked around the lot in different places, but always with a vantage point into the store front. She became mortified when she realized it was her husband. Now she realized why the calls had become infrequent, she also realized why their son was always warm to the touch when she got home and picked him. He had kept their son with him in the car exposed to the hot son while he kept an eye on her.

It was a maddening situation and she knew she would be in for a long night, she had not done anything but go to work and return home after her shift. She already was aware that every evening upon her return he would go to her vehicle and check the mileage and question any discrepancy on the odometer. She dared not go anywhere else and risk his rage and accusations, she had no other place to go but to her job. She would even take her lunch with her so that he wouldn’t question the additional miles on the vehicle. When her coworkers invited her out she would make excuses about not having money on her, or not being hungry or explain that she had brought her lunch.

Her coworkers had already figured out who the stalker in the parking lot was, they had overheard her on the phone with him and had seen her being dropped off before. They were respectful of her privacy and did not want to embarrass her; they wanted to reassure her that she had friends who cared. Soon they were able to convince her to join them for lunch, no excuses allowed, they would drive her, they would pay her lunch, and they would just be happy with her company even if all she did was sit there and have a drink.

Disclaimer**Given the nature of the books I have been reading lately I am inspired to write a few short stories revisiting parts of my life that included episodes of domestic violence….I will be calling this series “The Ex Files” very clever right….lol….I thought so….it will be an amalgamation of my personal experiences steeped with those of others that I was very close to. The parallels are uncanny in some instances….but the patterns of abusers and abusees are almost always the same…it’s like the same behaviors are either taught to the next generation or there are some secret classes being held somewhere in some secret location.**

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**Domestic Violence is not just physical abuse, it includes, verbal, emotional and also includes psychological as well as other forms of abuse. Domestic Violence should not happen to anyone…EVER. **

She set out to find a babysitter and a job, she had no prior experience but was smart and willing and able to do anything, start from the bottom and work her way up. She picked up a paper and drove up and down the streets to familiarize herself with the area; she kept her eye out for any “Help Wanted” signs.

Once home she took her paper to her bedroom and looked thru the paper and began calling the numbers for those offering childcare services. She set up meetings and asked for directions and felt confident that the next day would yield her favorable luck.

She discussed with her husband her intention of setting out for a job, he was not pleased to hear this, but was also quick to let her know it would be a relief as he wouldn’t have to listen to her ask for money anymore.

One of the driving forces for her to secure a job had been the degradation she felt having to continually ask for money to buy household items, groceries and even for her own personal items. He had always been in control of the finances and had no intentions of sharing that with her. He kept her on a strict budget and would blow up anytime she would ask him to pick up milk, diapers or anything that might be needed during the week. He was quick to let her know how stupid she was that she couldn’t even buy enough to last for a week. She tried explaining to him that with his sister and her family now living there and using everything they had bought, things were just not lasting as long.

He refused to acknowledge her explanations, it was her fault and that was that. It was pointless to argue with him so she did the best she could, she had resorted to makeshift diapers using whatever she could find, and she diluted the milk and even had to let their son wear dirty clothes.

Her sister in law was a forceful person; she had moved in and taken over as head of household. She had monopolized the kitchen, dining room, living room and one bedroom, leaving her only the one bedroom in the back of the trailer. The frustration of having to pacify her son with water and finding that the treats she had bought for him would disappear made for additional tension. She tried to discuss this with her husband but he wouldn’t listen to her, instead he resorted to accusing her of being greedy, again there was no winning, again it was all her fault, for after all she was too stupid to buy enough for everyone.

She stepped out to make her appointments with the possible childcare providers and the first stop was not a positive encounter, too many kids and no sense of control. She thanked the lady and went on to her next appointment, what a difference; the provider had 2 children under her watch including one of her own. They discussed payment and agreed that the next day would be the first day; she was pleased that things were looking up.

As she drove around before heading home she noticed a small strip mall and decided to stop in and browse around before heading back home. She had her son with her and they were looking at the items on the shelf when a clerk came up to ask if they needed help. They began a conversation and soon she felt a rapport with the clerk, she asked the clerk if she knew of any job openings. As luck would have it they were looking for someone to work part time, they talked briefly and set up a time for her to return with a completed application.  

 

Disclaimer**Given the nature of the books I have been reading lately I am inspired to write a few short stories revisiting parts of my life that included episodes of domestic violence….I will be calling this series “The Ex Files” very clever right….lol….I thought so….it will be an amalgamation of my personal experiences steeped with those of others that I was very close to. The parallels are uncanny in some instances….but the patterns of abusers and abusees are almost always the same…it’s like the same behaviors are either taught to the next generation or there are some secret classes being held somewhere in some secret location.**

 

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It took a very short time for them to get settled into their new home, he began working the very next day after they arrived, so it would be up to her to get everything in order in their new home. They had lucked out in the arrangements for what would be home; it was a small trailer house out in the middle of a wooded area off the highway. It was secluded and completely furnished, all she would need was to go and get groceries, linens, toiletries and get home in time to make dinner for her family.

Dinner consisted of a simple meal that would be easy to prepare, she had not yet mastered the art of cooking and cans and boxes were her friends. She wore her best smile and had even found the time to get their son and herself cleaned and dressed in fresh clothing. He walked in the door and she greeted him with the biggest smile she could give him without actually breaking her jaw in the process. He took a look around and began to criticize her for not having disposed of the boxes they had used for packing their belongings. She tried diffusing that by walking him into the dining area and showing off the table she had set, dinner was hot and ready on the stove; his cold drink was also ready. He walked over to the stove and took a look at what she had prepared and began to complain about having to eat shit that came out of a box.

For the next hour as they sat to eat the only words being exchanged were the names he called her, stupid, lazy, useless, bitch, dumb and many other hurtful words. There was no praise for anything she had done to make the place warm and cozy.

Two weeks into their arrival a knock came at the door, she got up to answer it and was soon to find herself face to face with her sister in law and her family in tow, she stepped aside and ushered them in. Her husband then got up and walked outside with his brother in law and they began to bring boxes in, her sister in law had already made her way to the first bedroom and began to clear out her sons’ belongings and putting them out in the hall.

She was confused and tried to get her husband’s attention to ask him what was going on but he ignored her and kept carrying boxes in. Forty five minutes later her husband came in and began to yell at her as she hadn’t done anything with the items in the hall. He began calling her stupid as she had not yet figured out what was happening. In hindsight she did know, she just didn’t want to accept that she had lost her home.

She gathered toys, and the clothes that had carelessly been tossed on the floor and took them into the other bedroom, she closed the door behind her and began to cry as she folded her sons’ clothes and put them in the drawer next to her things. The toys would not have a place so were left on the floor together with the infant carrier, diaper bag and other items.

Her quiet world changed in that instant, she could hear her sister in law in the kitchen throwing out food and replacing it with her things, they laughed at her and she could hear the criticism over her cooking. She decided to stay in the bedroom with her son, she could hear everything they said and the jokes at her expense, this was a small trailer and they were but a few feet away.

That night she decided she would talk to her husband about her finding a job….

 

Disclaimer**Given the nature of the books I have been reading lately I am inspired to write a few short stories revisiting parts of my life that included episodes of domestic violence….I will be calling this series “The Ex Files” very clever right….lol….I thought so….it will be an amalgamation of my personal experiences steeped with those of others that I was very close to. The parallels are uncanny in some instances….but the patterns of abusers and abusees are almost always the same…it’s like the same behaviors are either taught to the next generation or there are some secret classes being held somewhere in some secret location.**

 

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I stayed up late last night and finished one book and started another, but by the second chapter I was ready to call it a night. I managed to get some decent sleep but as luck or mental defect would have it I was up early, I wish I could have stayed in bed longer but alas my body won’t allow it.

I stepped out yesterday, I had the intention of killing two birds with one stone but I soon realized I could only throw my rock hard enough to get one done but definitely not both. I got my taxes done but didn’t quite have the energy to go and have lunch. I came back and took a short nap before the boys got home. I thought I would make up for the lack of lunch by inviting them out for dinner and all 3 of them turned me down. They preferred leftovers over eating out…yes I have strange children.

So anyhoo on the tax front I will be getting enough back to pay my medical bills and there should be enough left over for me to take a decent little vacation. I am going to work on an Excel spreadsheet to track all deductions for this year. I will be better prepared and will for sure take any and every deduction I possibly can. It has taken me this long to realize that I could have been doing this all along….

I’m thinking cake is going to be on the menu for today…along with meat and potatoes and possibly biscuits…all I had yesterday was one tuna sandwich, so today calls for a small buffet…I should be able to double up on my intake and not suffer too much for it.

I will also try to work on part III of my Ex Files series….so many thoughts there and I stop to think about fleshing the stories out but my mind and fingers prefer to do it their own way.

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