Domestic Violence - Getting Out

I sat in the tiny waiting room of the Crisis Intervention Center with my two children, two very active little boys. It was so quiet in that room, as we waited, and I was thankful for the peace. I couldn't believe that I was actually sitting there, finally, after so much time. I watched the boys play with building blocks as I thought of how to explain all of this to them. How would I tell them that they wouldn't see their dad for a long time? How would I explain why I never left sooner?

Derrick and I had gotten married after only four months of dating. It seems a little rushed, especially considering my present circumstance. But, at the time, it was perfectly rational. Derrick treated me like a queen the entire time we dated. He gave me everything I could want and showed genuine interest in our relationship. Naturally, I was elated when he asked me to marry.

It only took a short period of time for the truth about my husband to be revealed. It started with a few fights were some pushing and name calling led to apologies and promises to 'never do it again'. I didn't even see this as a real problem until the summer of that same year in which Derrick threw me over a picket fence and began choking me in front of my family. My mom wanted me to call the cops and my step-dad had to hold Derrick away from me. I was scared, but not scared enough to call. Derrick was stressed; I rationalized, because I had just told him that I was pregnant. That incident was swept under a rug, like so many others.

Things went very well during my first pregnancy. Derrick kept his temper under control and was very supportive. But, his drinking had gotten worse. When we first got married, he would drink about three nights of the week. Now, he was doing it every night. After the baby was born, my first bouncing boy, Derrick was back to his usual self. Money was tight, as it is for most young families, but our situation was made worse by the alcohol. Derrick was spending nearly every dime of the grocery money on booze. But, I had learned after he punched me in the stomach not to mention it.

The first time that I really thought about leaving was after the rape. Can't rape your spouse? Oh yes, you can. It was about two o'clock in the morning and the baby had been up all night with a cold. I heard Derrick stumble into the living room where he fumbled with something. I pulled my son close to me and pretended to be asleep. But, Derrick was very drunk and very upset to see our son in our bed. Grabbing my ankle (baby awake and crying at this point) he told me that if I didn't do what he wanted, he would break my foot. I believed him.

I spent a long time considering where I might go if I left. I couldn't stay with family. He had told me that if he found me, he would make me ugly so no one would want me. I had no money. I hadn't talked to my old friends in ages. It was a desperate situation. And it wasn't just me. I had our son, needing diapers and formula and medical care. The idea of leaving was fleeting, if nothing else. I threw the idea completely out when I discovered, two weeks later, that I was pregnant again. A sense of relief washed over me. Why, you must wonder, would a person in this situation be relieved to be pregnant? He never beat me when I was pregnant with our first. But, I was wrong to think that it would be the same with this one. This was not a happy event for Derrick and the abuse got worse. By now, a year and a half into our marriage, he had begun to smoke crack/cocaine. He drank every day. And I can't remember a time in that pregnancy when I didn't have a bruise or mark somewhere on my body.

This cycle of abuse, broken promises, and attempts to leave went on for nearly three years. I had gone to my mother's at one point, but he came over and convinced me to come back. I stood in the door way of the Crisis Intervention Center once, and left because I was scared to take my children to a Domestic Violence Shelter.

Finally, there was a chance right before Christmas and I took it. Derrick had gone to jail on his second DUI. While in the jail, he met with a counselor, who wanted to meet with me. Upon this meeting, the counselor told me that he felt I needed to get away from Derrick. He told me about the Domestic Violence Project. He made a few phone calls and soon I was talking with one of the staff members at the shelter. It was that conversation, that encouragement from a complete stranger, which gives me the courage to sit in this waiting room right now. I watched as the door to the office opened and a friendly looking person spoke to me.

"Syndey," she started, "they are ready for you at the Domestic Violence Shelter. We will take you right over."