Surviving Domestic Violence Pt. 3.2

Trigger Warning- This post contains explicit descriptions regarding domestic violence, emotional abuse and substance abuse.

Morning

If you or someone you know is in a dangerous situation, please don’t wait. Call the National Domestic Violence Hotline 1-800-799-7233

When I woke up, I had to get to work. I was already late, and although my boss was very, very forgiving, I don’t like to be a disappointment. I walked up two flights of stairs to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like what I had been through.

My hair was wet and frizzy, and at the time I wore it in a pixie cut, so it did not look good. I decided to get some wrapping foam and tried to wrap my hair. I brushed it, tied it down, and then sat under the portable hair dryer to set my hair so I would look presentable at work.

While I was sitting upstairs underneath the hair dryer, I was interrupted by Frank. He barged in the room, grabbed me by my neck, pushed me to the floor, and put his knee on my head. He was yelling at me, asking why I wasn’t answering his call. But I didn’t have my phone. I think it was still on the charger by the bed. He thought I had left without saying goodbye, but I hadn’t. I was sitting under the dryer, trying to get ready for work—which I now knew was not a possibility.

My head was pinned between his body weight and the hardwood floor. The headache from the day prior grew more painful by the second. I was crying, begging him to please stop, apologizing for not answering calls I never heard. I was able to get out from underneath him and ran downstairs, and he ran after me.

This is when things escalated.

I wish I could tell you what was said, but again, it’s a blur.

Not the visuals, though. I remember everything my eyes could see. There were moments when my eyes closed and I couldn’t see what was happening, but I remember it anyway—because it plays in my head like reruns of a 90s sitcom or something you-- just remember.

He chased me around the couch as I tried to get away from him. I didn’t know where I was going. Just away from him.

We ended up in the dining room, and he flipped the dining room table upside down to get to me. At this point, we were playing cat and mouse. He pinned me against the wall, restricting my airway again. I was crying, pleading, asking him to stop.

This was the first time—but not the last—that I felt like my life was in danger. I didn’t think I was going to get out of that house alive that day.

A voice told me to run. I believe this was God.

Running sounded crazy to me, because I ran the other day and look where I was. But I looked at Frank while I was struggling to breathe and quickly calculated how to get out of the house.

I knew I could push him off me, but it would take everything I had. I didn’t know if I had enough strength to push him and run at the same time. But I didn’t have much else to lose.

I pushed Frank off me, darted out the front door, and ran.

I Ran.  

I did it! I got out of the house. But there was another problem. It was eight o’clock in the morning—and I was naked.

I was completely oblivious to the fact that all I had on was a bra and panties.

What made it worse was that we lived right across the street from a middle school. Imagine parent drop-off lines, buses, and pedestrians everywhere.

It was a mess.

An old white man in a van—maybe a plumbing or HVAC worker, but honestly, I don’t remember—yelled at me and said, “Get in!!!!” So, I did.

In hindsight, this could have been the beginning of an even worse story, but this man was an angel.

I hopped into the passenger seat of his van, and he drove to the nearest parking lot and called 911. I never even got to really see his face. I just knew he was old, white, and maybe a little heavyset.

In that parking lot, I was surrounded by two or three police vehicles. I was put into an ambulance and taken to Overland Park Regional Medical Center.

Again, much of this is a blur. The police tried to get a statement from me, but I was too shaken to articulate my thoughts. They did see marks around my neck, which indicated my airways had been restricted. At the emergency room, they performed a CAT scan to make sure my neck wasn’t fractured or otherwise injured. After I was cleared, I went home.

I just wanted the house to feel back to normal. I wanted things to be normal.

So, I cleaned.