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50 Days... January 06, 2007 9:13 PM

I have a story that I want to share with everyone. Not because I feel like I particularly should nor because I have to. Because I can. 50 days ago today, I should have died. Everyone who was involved in my life on the days leading up to and the days that followed know that I shouldn't have made it. I mistakenly believed that I could continue being friends with my ex and that we could continue to live together, despite our history. I turned a blind eye to his drug use, a blind eye to my dependence on his 'love' and would forget all the previous warning signs on why I shouldn't have stayed... the chip in my two front teeth from him smashing a bottle out of my mouth last summer, the memory of me going to the hospital after he damaged my liver and kidney in a fight, and the fragile self-esteem after two years of verbal abuse. But I still stayed. We went to a wedding that day as friends, and actually enjoyed each other's company. When we got home, a friend from work texted me. Before I could check it, my ex grabbed my cell, and completely misread it, demanding an explanation. When the truth didn't satisfy him, he attempted to smash my cell phone while I ran upstairs to one of the bedrooms. He caught up with me, grabbing my hair and pulling me off the bed. His fists against my face sounded like a meat mincer pounding a steak. His hands clinched around my neck, and I could feel my breath getting short. He released and I bolted for the stairs, in a desperation to get out of the house. His arms grabbed my shoulders and he pushed me down the stairs. It seemed that before I got to the bottom, he was there, waiting for me, to push me down and choke me all over again. Suddenly, he stopped. It seemed like there was a dawning on him. He reached over for the iron sitting on the living room table, and smashed it across his forehead. Before I knew it, he was back on me, bleeding all over my face. My breath was getting shorter and shorter as his hands on my neck held me still. I slipped in and out of conciousness. The cops told me later how lucky I was that they got there when they did. Had he held on any longer, I would have died. They took him away that night and he hasn't been allowed back since. For the first week, I lied on the couch, blamed me, tried to do everything in my power to make the situation less difficult for him. Wearing turtlenecks, putting ice patches on my severly bruised face, retracting deep into myself didn't phase me. It was only three or four weeks later that it all finally hit me. I went to see my family, who lives in another city, for the first time since it all happened. Hearing my 21 month old niece call my name, hearing my four and a half year old nephew tell me all about school, looking over at my parents who are looking at me smiling. Those were the moments I almost missed. Knowing my parents almost had to bury their baby girl, knowing that my niece would grow up to never really have any memories of me, and my nephew not understanding why I don't ever to come to visit anymore. I started that healing process that day. I've learned to take care of myself both physically and mentally and I've connected with my friends on a whole new level. I rang in the New Year surronded by people who love me, with new friends and rekindled spiritual bonds with old ones. I've engaged in the prospect of a new relationship, with a strong steady man, one who doesn't need to control to love. And most importantly, I've found me again. I realized that in the past two years, I was like a candle that kept getting blowed on, to keep the flame down. And now that the winds calmed, I can burn as brightly as I want. I tell you this story because really, I should have died 50 days ago today. And sadly, too many women do die because a man couldn't control his anger. But, as I now try to live every day to it's fullest, I realize that not every woman gets the opportunity to live free and to make decisions on her own. I know that, given the statistics, that my niece could easily find herself in the same situation, and I don't know if she would get the opportunity to look back and count the days like I do. That's why I tell the story. Because I know that as long as we talk about it, as long it's not something that happens behind someone else's storm door, we're making a difference. And, with my 50 days of life, that's what I want to do more than anything.  [ send green star]  [ accepted]
 
I am so very happy you are not a statistic but a glowing survivor!!! January 28, 2007 9:09 AM

Do you believe in God or some higher power? I do. The cops got there just in time and you haven't gone back to him, hoorah!!!!!!! I once, twice, three times lived in abusive relationships, so don't feel alone, I'm experienced in making excuses for him, in feeling like I can't make it withought him, in feeling like its my fault, etc. etc.. I thank God for you and your freely giving your story out. You ever considered an autobiography of the survivor, yes, writing a book?! Keep your story out there where it can reach people and girls in high school and college,BEFORE THEY FIND THEMSELVES IN THE SAME SITUATION YOU DID. MY TIME IS LIMITED AND FOCUSED AROUND MY HEALTH AND 8YR. OLD DAUGHTER AS I HAVE BRAIN CANCER AND I AM CURRENTLY IN RADIATION AND CHEMOTHERAPY. IT IS A RECURRENT BRAIN TUMOR CALLED A GLIOBLASTOMA MULTIFORME. I AM BELIEVING FOR A COMPLETE HEALING. JUST YOU KEEP THE WORD OUT THERE FOR BOTH OF US OK AND THANKS FOR WHAT YOU HAVE ALREADY DONE. GOOD LUCK IN YOUR NEW LIFE WITHOUT VIOLENCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  [ send green star]  [ accepted]
 
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Stopping Violence against women
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