A Tragic Life 7 Days A Week

Have you ever thought about what you would do if you had to wake and start your day alone? What would it be like?  After being in a relationship for 20 or 30 or maybe

Have you ever thought about what you would do if you had to wake and start your day alone? What would it be like?  After being in a relationship for 20 or 30 or maybe even 40 years with the same partner by your side each and every day.  I cherish those who are able to make relationships last as long as life.  I believe that they a

re special people but they are no different than you or I.  When you walk down the street and see a couple holding hands and their faces lite up with joy.   You can almost feel the happiness reeking from their bodies.  You give a little half-smile as you pass them by but in your heart, you can feel the anger starting to boil as you look back over your own life and wonder, what happened?  So many of us today fall into abusive relationships because we are lonely and we don’t want to spend another moment alone.  And, it’s not just the women, some men go thru the same thing.  You don’t have to be a woman to be abused, men can suffer the same fate.  It took me a long time to understand and I don’t know if I really, truly, loved this man.  I thought I did.  When you grow up in a house with 6 sisters and 4 brothers all you can think about is the day when you will be able to leave home.  To get away from this place, to run free.  You have to ask yourself, do I really want to leave or should I stay.  Your life becomes a merry-go-round.  I use to know exactly how my day would go when I lived with my abusive man.  I was loved on Sunday, I got beat on Monday, I would leave on Tuesday, I danced free on Wednesday, I’d get lonely on Thursday, I’d start crying on Friday, I’d be back on Saturday, He’d give me love on Sunday, then he’d beat me on Monday, I’d run away on Tuesday, I felt free on Wednesday, I’d miss him on Thursday, I’d be crying on Friday, I’d be back on Saturday, I’d get that loving on Sunday.  That’s what my life was, seven days a week.  I didn’t know if I was miserable or not.  I didn’t know the difference.  You watch and pay attention, you see a lot of women and men who are being abused.  They don’t want you to know because they want to be just as happy as you are or they think you are.  I let my husband beat me over and over again.  My mother was so worried. She would call me in the middle of the night to see if I was ok.  She told me she could feel that something was wrong.  She was right every time, but still, I would lie and pretend that I was so happy.  I remember one night my baby was hungry and even though I lived in my aunt’s trailer, next door to her, I didn’t want her to know that I was doing poorly because I knew she will tell my mother.  I will never forget that night.  I knew where my husband was, his favorite place, a pool hall. My baby was hungry and I didn’t have any money to feed him so I had to go and find him.  I went to the pool hall and looked thru the window and saw him there with a young woman holding his beer for him.  So it seemed, she was holding something in a glass that he would reach for and drink and hand it back to her.

So I decided to go in and I did and I told him, our son is hungry and I need some money so I can get him some formula.  He started to walk out the door and I followed him.  I said, your son is hungry and then about that time, It felt like a brick had hit me in the back of my head.  He knocked me down and when I would get up, he would knock me down again.  I heard a voice from across the street yell, stop hitting her, but I would get up and he would knock me down again.  That night, he broke my nose and my arm.  My neighbor sat with my son while I went to look for his father, so I knew he was in good hands.   He beat me all the way home, which meant he hit me for at least 5 miles every 20 minutes.  I remember seeing blackness and when I woke up, I had been out for 2 days.  I was in the hospital, my nose was taped and my arm was bonded to my body.  I could not think straight.  I looked over and saw my mother and she had tears in her eyes.  She came over to me and drew me close to her an whispered in my ear, “you can’t go home,” I looked in her eyes and I asked, why?  He said he was going to kill you when you came home.  I couldn’t believe it, what I was hearing.  She said, I’m sending you to your sisters and I said but what about my baby.  She said, I will take care of my grandson, but for now I have to keep his mother safe.  I said ok.  That was the best thing my mother ever done for me and my son.  For this, I will forever be grateful.  I was released from the hospital the following day.  And as I sat on the bus ready to roll away, I waved good-by to my mom and son.  There was a merry go round in the park, spinning around and around.  I closed my eyes and could hear that tune as we started to move. I ran from you on Sunday, my heart was broken on Monday, I cried with pain on Tuesday, I miss my son so much. On Wednesday, I pass a phone and I looked the other way, On Thursday, I heard you calling but I covered my ears to pray, on Friday, I rose a new woman, I know now, I’ll be free, On Saturday, I took a stand, a vow to God to see, that Sunday I would start a new life, a life for my son and me.


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