Tag Archives: abuse

Some Things MAY Have Been Said.

8 Dec

So Loverboy and I went out for dinner last night.  He was pretty reserved, and I finally got the courage to ask him what was wrong.  I was 100% sure it was me, and I wanted to get it on the table.

It wasn’t.

It was about his daughter.

Apparently, she was in an abusive relationship.  As far as he is SURE of, she isn’t in it anymore.  But he thinks she is still seeing him without him knowing.

This guy had run her off the road in her car, and sent her to the hospital.  He had her drive drunk.  He was verbally abusive, and she was in tears constantly.  Loverboy did everything he could think of.  Calling the police.  Threatening this douche’s life.  Forbidding her to go out with him.  She told Loverboy she broke it off, but he isn’t so sure.

Ever since Loverboy threatened douche’s life, daughter has closed off communication with him.  And he is worried.  I couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

I told him that he needs to grab their relationship by the reins, stop being a friend and start being a dad.  I told him that women who have been abused are more likely to go back, or get into another abusive relationship unless they get help.  Daughter is beautiful, but she has self-esteem issues.  That is another factor in her going back to him.  I explained how they break you, how they convince you that no one else will want you.  I explained it all.  And he sat and listened.

I told Loverboy that he needs to sit down and have a very frank talk with her…a come to Jesus meeting if you will.  I told him to use me as an example if he would like.  He said he just doesn’t feel like she will listen, and was wondering if I could be a part of the conversation, share my story with her.

I really hesitated.  I have only met her for a grand total of two minutes.  I said she would listen to him more than me.  He is her daddy…I’m just the lady who is taking his time.  But I did concede to tell my story if she doesn’t listen to him.  She has also started drinking heavily and blacking out.  This girl is running and hiding from something.  And Loverboy needs to find out what.

Well, that conversationchanged into what is going on with my life.  Loverboy finally asked me if I had some deep dark secret I was not sharing.  I assured him I wasn’t, so I gave him a very minimal background of what I was up against.  A mother-in-law that told me I deserved to get hit.  An entire family denying the abuse.  So many lies to count.  All because I didn’t want to stay home with the kids.  All because I went to school to save lives.  All because I wasn’t from the mid-west.  And yes, those are actually the reasons why all of the abuse happened.  All absolute bull-shit.

Loverboy listened, with his hand on mine.  He said a few times that he didn’t understand the ex’s behavior, and I told him it was a good thing he didn’t.  That if he did understand, I wouldn’t be dating him.  I still didn’t explain the abuse.  Just the aftermath.  I then told him this:

E: You know, I am really hesitant to explain to you everything that has happened.  I am afraid you will leave, and I don’t want you to.  I don’t want the shit my ex is doing to determine this relationship.  The OP got filed after I met you.  I didn’t meet you while I was going through this.  I didn’t want to bring you into this.  I understand this is really heavy.  I understand if you don’t want to keep seeing me.  I understand.  I do.

L: I understand.  I understand you want to see your kids.  And I understand that you feel unsafe and that you needed to do what you did.  But I’m worried for you.

E: Don’t worry.  I’m OK, I am.  I take it as it comes and I keep myself safe.

L: But that doesn’t stop me from worrying.  And if he ever comes after you, I will break his kneecaps.

E: No…please don’t do that.  All you need to do is what you are already doing.  Thank you for listening.  It means a lot.  I know you have so many questions.  And if there is something you really want to know, you can ask.  I will be honest and truthful.  And you won’t like it.  But if you want to know, you can ask.

L: I need to think about that, Esme.

After that convo, we went to bed.  This morning, Loverboy gathered me into his arms and held onto me.  He asked me to please be careful today at my hearing.  He said he was worried about me, and he wishes I would let him go.  He told me to please call him after it was over.

I smiled into his chest, and reiterated that I would be OK.  I told him again that I was, and still am, really nervous to share because I don’t want him to leave.  He kissed my forehead, and told me that his mom will love me.  He also said my ex sounds like an idiot, and my ex’s family lost a great woman.  I really hope he means it.

This WAS NOT a conversation I wanted to have with him.  I don’t want this negative cloud over our heads.  I don’t want my ex to determine the status of this new relationship.  But it went better than I thought it would.  I think talking about his daughter first helped open the lines of communication.

When I told Loverboy about what happened in court today, he asked me if I was still coming over tonight.

I think I found a great guy.  I HOPE I found a great guy.  Time will tell.

Love, Esme

*My case got continued for another two weeks.  I am still protected*


Here Is What Happened

1 Dec

So I just got home about an hour ago.  And it is 9:45 in the morning.  Here is what went down…

When I got to Loverboy’s house, I sat down and had a talk with him about my order of protection and my ex.  He sat in silence for a few minutes, and I grew anxious and fidgety.  I wasn’t liking where this was headed.  AT ALL.  He finally spoke:

L: Can I have his number?
E: Whose number?
L: Your ex’s.
E: NO!!
L: I’m not going to call him…while you are here.
E: No.  I don’t want you getting involved, but I wanted to let you know in case something happens while we are out.  I’m sorry I have to tell you this at all, but you have a right to know.
L: I just don’t understand why he is such a dickhead.  You are so nice, why is he like this?

From there we got into a small discussion about abusive individuals, and the behaviors that perpetuate from leaving.  When I didn’t feel like discussing it anymore, I just stopped.  And he respected that.  He held my hand, and told me that if I wanted him to go to court with me to argue for the permanent order later this month, he would take the day off and go with me.

We left for lunch, had a great time, then headed to see a movie.  After the movie, Loverboy asked if I wanted to go get a drink.  I grimaced, and explained that I was stupid enough to wear new heels on our date today, and the balls of my feet were burning.  He laughed, and said that’s what I get for being taller than him, and offered up going back to his place to shoot some pool.  I was game, so we went.

I was sitting on the couch, massaging my poor aching feet, and Loverboy was getting us a couple of drinks.  I heard the garage door, and I froze.  I look over at Loverboy, and he explained his daughter was home (she is 21).  I asked if this was bad, and he said no, not at all.  But I was panicked.  Absolutely panicked.  He came over and sat down next to me as she walked into the house.  He introduced me, and she held out her hand.  She said ‘Esme, it is veeeeerrrrrrryyyyyyyy nice to meet you!’  I said it was nice to meet her as well.  She then said she has someplace to be, and left the house.  I was so embarrassed.  I felt like a teenager that got caught.  I later found out that he told her to make herself scarce, which made the embarrassment even worse.  What she must think of me…

We played a couple of games of pool, and I found out how much I suck at it.  I won one game because he scratched, but it is a victory none-the-less.  And I talked smack over it.  We were tied 1-1.  He then walked slowly over to me and took the pool cue out of my hand.  Esme, he said, have you ever made love on a pool table?  No, I replied.  I haven’t.  I tilted me head up to his and whispered that I will have to add it to my list.  He lifted me up and sat me on the edge of the pool table.  After a very intense make-out session, he grabbed my hand and pulled me off of the table.  Upstairs, he muttered.  We are going upstairs.  I stammered something about needing to play a tie breaking game.  I was suddenly really nervous!  He said later, and he led me up the stairs.

Let’s just say it was really, really great.  Really.  I think my nervousness was evident, so he went nice and slow.  I was nervous because I like this guy.  I do.  And I was nervous that it would change things for the worse.  That was what I exactly DID NOT want.  But I think whenever you introduce sex into a relationship, it always changes it.  But how it changes depends on the people involved.

Afterward, we lay there in a sweaty mess breathing heavy.  He rolled me over on my side and threw his arm over me.  I fell asleep with the biggest smile on my face.  I woke up a lot throughout the night.  I was worried about what the morning would bring.  Loverboy sleeps like the dead.  He doesn’t move.  He doesn’t snore.  He doesn’t steal covers.  He had NO IDEA I was tossing and turning.  I was glad, I didn’t want to wake him up.  I watched him sleep for a while, and finally fell asleep right before his alarm went off for work.

He got up to take a shower, and I got up to get dressed.  Please don’t leave yet, he said.  Once I got dressed I laid back down and closed my eyes.  I woke up when he laid down and snuggled up next to me.  We talked for a few minutes, then headed downstairs.  I watched him putz around the kitchen while I petted Khloe the Dog.  He asked me how I was going to make Christmas cookies with my shoulder being so bad (I had brought it up a couple of dates ago).  I told him I wasn’t going to be able to, and he offered to be my kitchen bitch.  I told him only if he wore the apron…naked.  Loverboy laughed, and agreed.  He then also said that after he did some research, he found out The Nutcracker Ballet was going to be in town in a couple of weeks, and would I be interested in going.  I was speechless.  He actually listened when I talked.  It’s like he took notes.  I nodded my head, I didn’t trust myself to speak.  I put my coat and my scarf on.  I looked at my shoes and sighed…I was not looking forward to putting the torture devices back on.  Loverboy went to the closet and gave me his slippers to wear home so my feet would be more comfortable.  Is this guy for fucking real??  A mirage, maybe??

He walked me out to my car, and gave me a big hug.  I gave him a kiss on the cheek since I had morning breath.  He remarked that I needed to keep a toothbrush at his place so he could properly kiss me in the morning.  WOW.  I had no response.  He said he would call me later, and I left.

I already got a text this morning that said : Thank you for staying over last night.  I can’t wipe this smile off my face!

That, of course, made me smile.

Neither can I.

Love, Esme

A New Record?

29 Nov

Well ladies…tomorrow will be the sixth night I will spend with Loverboy.  1-2-3-4-5-6.  SIX.  I have never made it to six.  And I definitely have never waited six nights to sleep with someone.  I guess I am really digging this guy, huh?

He texted me today to remind me that we have a date tomorrow night.  As if I could forget.  We are going to see Harold and Kumar, and go to dinner.  And I have NOTHING to wear.  Figures.

But I do have a question for you girls.

Today I had to get an Order of Protection against my ex-husband.  He actually verbally assaulted me as we were leaving the courtroom this last week, and I feel like I was five seconds away from physical danger.  I found a bailiff, and got help.  And that lead me to today, and my new order.  So the question?  Bear with me…

Loverboy knows very little about my ex.  He knows he was not a nice person, but that is it.  And I don’t know how, or if, I should bring it up.  I still attend a domestic violence support group, and I put the question to them.  I got five different responses.  I feel like if I keep quiet, then something happens and he finds out that way, it’s like lying by omission.  But I am also afraid that if I say something, he will run away screaming, which I couldn’t blame.


Love, Esme

Dating On Hold?? Probably…

24 Aug

So despite the fact that I had my heart ripped out of my chest, friends have been trying to talk me into dating again.  I’m still struggling with that decision.  It just feels wrong to date when my heart belongs to someone else.  Being further removed from the situation, I understand their sentiment.  No one wants to see their girlfriend in pain.  What better way to get over a man than to find a new one?  As much as I am fighting kicking and screaming, I have started to see their point.  Not that I agreed to date, but I saw their point.

It’s like Karma has decided that I am not ready to date.  OK, so I am probably reaching here, but I have to tell myself these things to make me feel better 😉

I went to the doctors the other day, and I was told the one thing I DID NOT want to hear.  Esme, you need surgery.  That shoulder is just not getting better.

Fuck fuck fuck shit FUCK.  I feel like I am saying these words a lot lately.  Surgery??  I don’t have time for surgery!  The only family I have in this state are my kids.  Shoulder surgery would leave me incapacitated for weeks.  My mom will come out for the first week, it’s all she can take off of work.  So now I have to figure shit out I didn’t think I had to figure out.  Thank God I have some great friends.

I also have some issues going on with the ex-husband as well (controlling abusive PRICK.  He started shit, I’m ending it).  Things I just am not going to blog about.  But basically, the last two weeks have been bad news after bad news after bad news.  I have cried more in the last two weeks than I have the last year.  I blame pain medicine.  That shit turns me into a bitch and depresses me.

So here is my hope.  I have the surgery, and after a realistic time to heal, I am back at 100%.  I can finally get off the pain medicine and get my sassy self back.  Things with my ex work out the way they are supposed to.  That someday soon I will meet Mr.  Tall Dark and Handsome.

I think that none of this is too much to ask.

Oh, and to get laid.  I’d really like to get laid right about now.

Love, Esme

So Much To Tell…

27 Jun

Oh my god it has been one hell of a roller coaster ride the last week or so.  Let’s deal with the What The Fuck moment of the week.

I have been so busy, that I have been neglecting friends, family, and everyone in between.  Especially you guys…and I tell you  everything.  So needless to say, I have also been neglecting Nice Guy.  As in I haven’t talked to him for a week.  Just ONE WEEK.  Not a month, not a year, but a week.  And here is the email I received from him the other day:

I appreciate and understand that you have not had it easy the past year and are still working your way though things.  However, a friendship takes two and I have felt that you have been scarce to non-existent for some time.  I understand that you live in a different time zone, work two jobs, are taking care of your kids, and are fighting your ex and his girlfriend. In a friendship I would hope that my wants get met, but at the very least my needs get met.  Maybe after you have had the time to get settled you will be able to resume a friendship with me.  Only time will tell.  In the meantime, I cannot continue with our friendship in this way.  Good luck in your endeavors and I hope you find happiness and it is your own…Nice Guy.

And yes, this is copied and pasted, only thing changed is the name at the end.

I have an inbox FULL of emails from friends, and every other one says ‘Just please let us know your alive’, ‘You didn’t to anything stupid enough to go to jail, did you?’, ‘Hang in there baby, things get better’.  And then I get the one above.

If you KNOW that I am going through all of that drama, and you KNOW I have all of this shit going on, don’t you think I may appreciate an email that is a little more positive?  Or how about ‘I’m always here for you, I know you are going through a lot, just call me when you have time’?  FUCK OFF DOUCHEBAG.  Last thing I need is your girlie-ass complaining about your ex-girlfriend from two years ago that you are still pining over because she is sooooo beautiful.  She left you, man the fuck up, and get on with your life.

In other news, Medic cancelled another lunch.  What the fuck ever.  We were drunk, you kissed me, big fucking deal.  Why is it that dudes have to make a federal case about everything?  He acts like it was the world’s biggest no-no.  I just don’t have the energy for it.

In better news…I went out with Fighter again.  And we had a really nice time.  It turned into a three and a half hour lunch, where we just learned a little more about each other.  And he asked me to go have a day with him this Thursday.  He wants to go do something ‘fun’, like bowling or miniature golfing.  I suggested laser tag, because nothing says ‘date’ like shooting someone in the ass.  We will see what he decides 🙂

On this better news note, I am having a bit of a panic attack.  I feel like date three is a committment.  As a committment-phobe, I am having issues with this.  Fighter has yet to ask why I got divorced.  I have yet to tell him about my marriage.  I have always said it isn’t anyone’s business, but I am now second guessing that opinion.  I’m thinking he needs to know.  I have yet to kiss him because I am interested in him.  He hugs me and I am the one who breaks away.  This is all quite the conundrum for me.  I can go to Mr. Hottie or AG, and have awesome sweaty sex.  I can go see Medic and drape myself all over him.  But give me someone I have an interest in dating and getting to know, and I am like a deer in headlights.  I think I am afraid of being back in a dark place, one I never want to go to again.  I’m afraid of being hurt, emotionally and physically.

I am aware I have hang-ups.  And the last thing I want to happen is me sabotaging something that could be GREAT.  That is why I am womaning up.  I am going on this date, and I am going to take it one day at a time.  And I think very soon I may have to have a talk with him.  I don’t want him thinking that he is the problem, when in fact it is me and my past.  Sigh.

Much love, Esme

I Love The Way You Lie

29 Oct


I love this song.  With every ounce of my being.  It is the most listened to song on my Ipod, its song number one on the CD in my SUV.  On the right day, it can make me cry. Or it can make me feel grateful I got out of a bad situation without the horrific ending.

I have heard many mixed reviews on ‘I Love The Way You Lie’ by other victims of domestic violence.  Most I have talked to despise this song.  I have heard some say they feel like this song glorifies, or romanticizes DV.  I have to say…I don’t hear that in this song AT ALL.  What I hear is the mixed emotions both sides feel during a fucked-up relationship, about the cycle of violence.

This song resonates with me because I could have very easily been a tragic ending.  It resonates even more because I have seen the tragic ending.  Many times, thanks to my line of work.  And thanks to my line of work, I felt like the worlds biggest hypocrite.

So often, shift after shift, I would be called to the same residences.  Time and time again.  Bloodied noses.  Black eyes.  Broken arms.  Women holding their children in their arms, their eyes darting around the room, not meeting my gaze.  I’m fine, I fell, he didn’t mean it, it only happens when he drinks, he loves me, he said it won’t happen again.  I would plead with them to come to the hospital, to press charges, to take the paperwork I was trying to hand them.  It never failed, the answer was always the same-NO.  I tried giving the ‘you could die’ speech, it never worked.  These women would never come with me, would never get help.  And far too often, I eventually answered calls where they were unconscious-or dead.

And then what would happen?  I would go home, shit would happen, and I wouldn’t use the resources I was begging my patients to use.  Why?  I DON’T KNOW.  I can’t explain it.  I was a hypocrite.  I would go to work and try to save the world, and I couldn’t even save myself.

I often wondered if the guys at work ever knew anything.  And I wondered why I never told.  I think, when they saw my ex and I together, they knew something wasn’t right, but I don’t think they suspected abuse.  And why would they?  Why would you ever expect someone in my position of being abused?  I had so many resources at my disposal.  Bad-ass firemen, who I am sure would have been more than willing to show some solidarity.  Cops with guns who had some major anger-management problems.  Emergency room doctors I was on a first name basis with.  Other hospital personnel.  But I didn’t.  I couldn’t, until I was ready to.

So yes, I am a big fan of this song.  I became a bigger fan of Megan Fox (because not only is she a bad girl personified) when I found out she donated every penny she made from this video to a domestic violence shelter.  This song, and video, should serve as a reminder that far too often domestic violence turns deadly.  And while some people view violence as a ‘normal’ part of a relationship-it isn’t.  Not in any WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM.  It isn’t sexy, it isn’t romantic, and it isn’t love.  Breaking a cycle of violence is hard, but necessary.  If you can’t do it yourself, please get help.

Much love, Esme

Just gonna stand there
And watch me burn
But that’s alright
Because I like
The way it hurts
Just gonna stand there
And hear me cry
But that’s alright
Because I love
The way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie

I can’t tell you what it really is
I can only tell you what it feels like
And right now there’s a steel knife
In my windpipe
I can’t breathe
But I still fight
While I can fight
As long as the wrong feels right
It’s like I’m in flight
High of a love
Drunk from the hate
It’s like I’m huffing paint
And I love it the more that I suffer
I suffocate
And right before im about to drown
She resuscitates me
She fucking hates me
And I love it
Where you going
I’m leaving you
No you ain’t
Come back
We’re running right back
Here we go again
It’s so insane
Cause when it’s going good
It’s going great
I’m Superman
With the wind in his bag
She’s Lois Lane
But when it’s bad
It’s awful
I feel so ashamed
I snap
Who’s that dude
I don’t even know his name
I laid hands on her
I’ll never stoop so low again
I guess I don’t know my own strength

Just gonna stand there
And watch me burn
But that’s alright
Because I like
The way it hurts
Just gonna stand there
And hear me cry
But that’s alright
Because I love
The way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie

You ever love somebody so much
You can barely breathe
When you’re with them
You meet
And neither one of you
Even know what hit ’em
Got that warm fuzzy feeling
Yeah them chills
Used to get ’em
Now you’re getting fucking sick
Of looking at ’em
You swore you’ve never hit ’em
Never do nothing to hurt ’em
Now you’re in each other’s face
Spewing venom
And these words
When you spit ’em
You push
Pull each other’s hair
Scratch, claw, bit ’em
Throw ’em down
Pin ’em
So lost in the moments
When you’re in ’em
It’s the rage that took over
It controls you both
So they say it’s best
To go your separate ways
Guess that they don’t know ya
Cause today
That was yesterday
Yesterday is over
It’s a different day
Sound like broken records
Playin’ over
But you promised her
Next time you’ll show restraint
You don’t get another chance
Life is no Nintendo game
But you lied again
Now you get to watch her leave
Out the window
Guess that’s why they call it window pane

Just gonna stand there
And watch me burn
But that’s alright
Because I like
The way it hurts
Just gonna stand there
And hear me cry
But that’s alright
Because I love
The way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie

Now I know we said things
Did things
That we didn’t mean
And we fall back
Into the same patterns
Same routine
But your temper’s just as bad
As mine is
You’re the same as me
But when it comes to love
You’re just as blinded
Baby please come back
It wasn’t you
Baby it was me
Maybe our relationship
Isn’t as crazy as it seems
Maybe that’s what happens
When a tornado meets a volcano
All I know is
I love you too much
To walk away though
Come inside
Pick up your bags off the sidewalk
Don’t you hear sincerity
In my voice when I talk
Told you this is my fault
Look me in the eyeball
Next time I’m pissed
I’ll aim my fist
At the dry wall
Next time
There will be no next time
I apologize
Even though I know it’s lies
I’m tired of the games
I just want her back
I know I’m a liar
If she ever tries to fucking leave again
I’mma tie her to the bed
And set the house on fire

Just gonna stand there
And watch me burn
But that’s alright
Because I like
The way it hurts
Just gonna stand there
And hear me cry
But that’s alright
Because I love
The way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie

On A Serious Note

6 Aug
“Domestic violence causes far more pain than the visible marks of bruises and scars.  It is devastating to be abused by someone that you love and think loves you in return.”-Dianne Feinstein

I know this post is off the track I ordinarily take.  Bear with me here.

I am a victim of domestic violence.  If you have read through most of my blog I have said as much a couple of times.  But I have never discussed it.  And it needs to be discussed for a number of reasons.  One, to raise and maintain awareness.  Two, because it has made me who I am today.

Hindsight is always 20/20.  The signs were always there.  The possessive way he would talk to me.  His body language toward me.  After the first hit I stayed-stupidly.  Thought I could make it work.  I didn’t want to be divorced.  This was the man I had pledged forever to, in front of God-family-friends.  I asked him to go to counseling.  He refused, said he had no issues with our relationship.  I went on my own, wanted to see if there was something I could do differently.

I eventually became so sick of the name calling and the pushing that I stopped having sex with him.  Wait-let me rephrase that-I tried to stop having sex with him but he forced himself on me anyways.  I endured this for a few years.  Hoping-hoping-hoping things would change.  Get better.  It didn’t.  It just got worse.  For so long I ignored the abuse.  I talked away the signs and symptoms.  This man told me he loved me! Surely that meant I wasn’t a battered woman…

Looking back, I can’t pinpoint what exactly drove me over the edge.  I literally woke up one day, marched out to the kitchen, and told him I wanted a divorce.  It didn’t go over well.  He cried, begged me to give him another chance.  I was done.  I tried for YEARS to get him help.  I don’t think he thought I would ever actually leave.

Our divorce was a long, drawn-out ordeal.  Cops were called, motions were filed.  I got to the point where I just wanted it to be over.  I wanted to be able to move on.  I wanted to get started on my new life.  I agreed to things I probably shouldn’t have, but I don’t regret it.  I got him to sign the documents.  I stood in front of a judge with my right hand raised and swore my marriage was ‘irreconcilable’.  When the judge signed under our names, I almost did a cart-wheel down the aisle.  I was FREE.

I have to say that I did have a brief moment of sadness.  I felt guilty about celebrating the end of what was supposed to be forever.  Then I realized he gave up forever when he called me a cunt-in front of my kids.  When he hit me.  When he pushed me into a wall while I held my then baby boy.  And all feelings of sadness disappeared.  Even my worst day without him is better than my best day with him.

I made sure to get help for myself.  My biggest fear is getting back into a relationship like that.  I went to a domestic violence support group, where I met so many wonderful women-just like me.  I started going back to church.  I talked about the abuse with friends and other caring individuals.  Each time I discussed it I became stronger.  Embracing the abuse made me confront the abuse.  Once I fully understood what I went through, I was able to heal.

I am not looking to forget my past.  Not looking to completely recover from it even.  I don’t think you can.  It is a part of who I am.  I am not ashamed of it.  It hurts my heart when I hear other stories of abuse.  It isn’t a sisterhood anyone should be a part of.  But, unfortunately, there are many of us out there.

Love, Esme