Loving an Addict

There are very few things more devastatingly heartbreaking than loving an addict. Alcohol, drugs, sex, porn, gambling, it makes no difference. Addiction is an equal opportunity destroyer. No matter what you do, what you say, how much you beg, or how many tears you shed, they will always, always choose the addiction over you. Even when it means that they lose you – lose their spouse and children. Even when it means they will lose all the good things in their life. The addiction will always win. Always.

And all you can do is watch while your heart gets ripped out a little more each day, while your gut churns constantly and you can’t stop shaking. You cry silent tears until there are none left and swallow that constant lump in your throat. You always know that they don’t love you enough to do what they need to stop.

You always know you are second choice – because the addiction will always come first.

And if you try to make them choose, they will never choose you.


The addiction always wins.

You will never be attractive enough, smart enough, interesting enough – you’ll never, ever be enough – for them to choose you first. Still, you try. You try to make yourself more attractive, kinder, smarter, more interesting. You bend over backwards to give them everything you can, trying to make yourself more enticing than the addiction. Hoping against all hope they will look at you and say, “You know what? What I have right here is too good to lose and to precious to hurt and destroy. I choose you.”

But that never happens.

Instead, you are constantly vying for their attention, saying, “Hey! I’m right here! Look at me! Choose me! Please!”

And you cling to every crumb of attention they give you, living for the moments when they pretend you are first. You go along with the charade, pretending to believe because it is the only way to maintain your sanity. Other times you sit near them, longing for a glance, a word, a touch, something, anything to let you know that they feel something for you.

It’s the same with the lies. They will look right at you, right in the eye and lie without flinching. They lie about their addiction, lie about where they’ve been or what they’ve been doing. They lie and tell you that you come first, that it’s “only you.”

You know it’s a lie but you want so badly to believe. You fool yourself into believing that this time, finally, what they say will be truth.

Problem is, you can’t believe a word that comes out of an addict’s mouth. They get angry because you don’t trust them yet they refuse to make themselves trustworthy. They give you reason over and over to not trust then get upset when you don’t believe them.

And somehow that’s your fault.

You hold so tightly to that hope, that prayer, that one day they will choose you. One day they will turn away from the addiction and find a way to break it, to make it stop, to end the suffering and destruction. One day you will be able to believe them, to trust them.

And so many times that never happens.


Then there is the blame.

In your mind you know it must be irrational, right? Yet you can’t help but believe it, at least a little. It is your fault they have the addiction, can’t or won’t break the addiction, why it escalates – it’s all on you. On the darker days, every bad thing in their life is because of you or something you’ve done.

Their words are so vile, so hateful. They cut to the bone. But what is most disconcerting is that they like it. They enjoy seeing the pain register on your face, seeing you recoil from the vile spewing of contempt they direct at you. They want you to hurt and they know just what to say to get the job done. They want to tear you down until you are nothing, until you leave them alone with their addiction – until you stop begging for them to choose you.


The pendulum swings.

On the good days it’s not so bad, you just feel shaken, exhausted, hollowed out, worthless, discouraged, but you can mask it fairly well. You can’t let them see how seriously they have hurt you, how they are destroying you, what they’ve done to your mind, your body, your spirit, how they’ve crushed your heart again and again – how they’ve shattered your self esteem and broken your spirit.

But they really don’t care anyway.

You feel ugly, worthless, distraught, raw, useless, alone, unwanted, unlovable as you wait for the next time they have a good day – then the next time they chase that addiction. The next time they don’t choose you.

And you never know when that will be.

So, you live in your own, private hell, knowing you are second choice to something that is destroying the person you love and destroying you in the process. Most people won’t understand why you choose to stay so you don’t really talk about it.

Leaving or turning away from them is never an option. You think about it, but then your heart plays that cruel trick and reminds you of the good times. So you hang on, thinking, “Tomorrow may be the day.  Tomorrow I might come first.” But tomorrow never seems to come, so you just keep waiting.

You just hold it all inside and hope that one day, one day they choose you.


The silent victims.

When you are praying for addicts, take a moment and whisper a prayer for the people who love them, the mothers, fathers, husbands, wives, children – for they are all suffering deep, unimaginable pain as well. Addiction leaves a hole in your heart. It destroys lives and families.

But what most people don’t realize is that they are devastatingly destructive to the people who love that addict. They are the ones who are neglected, abused, used, manipulated. They are the ones who are trying to desperately to make it stop because they know that person they love is in there, somewhere.

They are the silent victims. The ones who have to watch and feel that pain and devastation over and over and over. They are the ones caring for that addict, feeding them, paying for their needs, keeping their clothes clean, giving them shelter – giving of themselves just to be ignored, disrespected, hurt. Just to know that they aren’t enough. No matter what they do or how much they give they will never be enough to be first choice.

The addiction always wins.

They are the ones who cry alone at night and stay in their head because who would understand anyway?

They are the ones waiting, waiting for the addict to choose them.


What is wrong with our society? He’s right here.

blue lives matter

What in the world is wrong with people?

I know, I know, it would take volumes to answer this – and I ask it all the time. The current object of my curiosity is one Joshua James Bolieiro in Atlanta, Georgia who made some very inflammatory posts on Facebook recently.

I’ve seen some horrible things come across my social media feeds, but this is one of the worst. I don’t understand how people can do this and think it is OK.

I also don’t see how he is not in jail. This is NOT freedom of speech. These are DIRECT threats against law enforcement and he should face serious consequences.

See for yourself:






As far as I am concerned, this person is a domestic terrorist. This is absolutely unacceptable and I hope that law enforcement is knocking on his door before the day is over. I hope that he is prosecuted for this.

In case you don’t know, THIS is what is wrong with our country, our society. These arrogant, narcissistic thugs, filled with hate (and who aren’t nearly as intelligent as they think they are) who want to destroy our country and who see killing as their only option – they are the problem.

These kids are out of control. Many of there were not raised; they were just allowed to stand around and get big – no training, no real parenting. I realize that this is not the case for all, but for many it is an unfortunate fact.

Then these sorry, neglectful parents leave their degenerate children to be raised by the system. Law enforcement must clean up what their lazy, stupid parents failed to do – raise their children to be productive adults.

People like Mr. Boliero think they are above the law, that the rules do not apply to them. They think they are free to kill and do whatever they want to get what they want. They are entitled, spoiled, mentally ill inbreds who have no place in our society.

He (and those like him) need to be locked up for good. Better yet, put them all on a remote island together, no TV, no internet, no contact with the real world. Let the narcissistic little twits just have at it with each other and eventually they will destroy themselves.

Enough is enough.

Joshua James Bolieiro, YOU are what is wrong with this country.

Pests, Sleeping Husbands, and Glue Boards (and what they have in common)



I hate insects and I really can’t stand them in my home.
That is a bit challenging because we live in a travel trailer in a pretty heavily wooded area. This means lots of insects and occasionally one will find its way inside.

And I don’t take it very well.

Case in point, this evening I was sitting on the sofa, doing a little work when when I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. I have pretty excellent peripheral vision.

Yeah, not having any of THAT.

My husband was asleep and I debated whether to ask him to come to my rescue or let him continue to peacefully slumber, blissfully ignorant of the trauma that was taking place in the living room.

Trauma won. He can go back to sleep.

I tiptoed down the hall (not sure why, I mean, I was going to wake him up) and eased the door open. I could see his shape in the dark. I scanned the walls for any other “guests” (our walls are light so the dark little blobs would show up easily). I was starting to seriously freak out. It went something like this:

Me: CW? You awake?

CW: Hmmm? (bless his heart, he’s tired – but I am completely traumatized here and need help!)

Me: Are you awake? I really need you (trying to keep my voice calm).

CW: What’s wrong? (Do I detect a hint of laughter in his voice – this isn’t the first time we’ve been down this road)

Me: There’s a bug in the living room and I need you to kill it! I wasn’t going to wake you up, but IT’S IN MY PURSE! I can’t even get my phone out or my keys or anything!

CW: Why do you need your keys? It’s 10 o’clock.

Me: I don’t need my keys right now. But if I wanted to get them I couldn’t because there’s a bug in there! A huge bug! A monster.

Now he’s openly laughing; not even trying to hide it.

Me: I’m serious! I didn’t get a good look at it but I’m pretty sure it’s HUGE! I think they’re organizing and it’s gathering inter in my purse! I’m pretty sure it’s staking me with deadly intent! Please! You have to come get it out of there! Please! Get it out of there and KILL IT!

CW: (still chuckling to himself, gets out of bed and strolls into the living room, apparently completely oblivious to the six legged MONSTER that has taken over my purse!)

He looks at me. I am by the door, prepared to bolt if necessary. Then I realize he needs to be by the door to get that vicious beast out of my bag. I also realize that he has NO intention of killing it!

Me: No! You have to KILL it! KILL it and drive a stake through its battered body and put it outside to send a message to all the other savages that want to come it!

This is also about the time I realize that he has NO intention of killing it. He’s just going to set it free so it can continue its evil plot against me.

I also realize that now that I’ve moved toward the hallway if that horror is loosed I will have nowhere to go.

As he opens the door, it crawls out of my bag and falls (or flies?) to the floor. I can’t believe the size! I mean, you could put a saddle on that thing and ride it to the store!

CW: Well, I have good news and bad news.

Me: What?! Good news? Bad news? I am freaking out and you’re talking in riddles!

CW: The good news it, it’s out of your purse.

I relax a little.

CW: The bad news is, it got away before I could get it outside. It went there (he points to the sofa where I sit). It went somewhere back there.

— not gonna shriek — not gonna shriek — not gonna shriek — yeah, totally shrieking!

Now he’s very openly laughing.

Me: I am glad you find this, my trauma, so amusing.

CW: (laughing harder now) It’s just a palmetto bug.

Me: JUST?! Nothing that size is JUST anything!
I HATE bugs!

CW: Well, technically, it’s not a bug, it’s an insect.

Me: Seriously? We’re being INVADED! We’re on the verge of an ATTACK and you want to discuss semantics?
That thing is NOT natural! It has to be a mutant and it does NOT belong in my house! What can I do to get rid of it? To kill it?

CW: Well, you can use a glue board. (he shrugs a little and I’m starting to feel like maybe he isn’t taking this as seriously as he should – I mean, we’re being invaded!)

Me: Can I get them at Walmart?

CW: Well, uh, yeah. (I think maybe he is beginning to understand the gravity of this situation.)

Me: I need money.

Now he’s laughing again. He kissed me and went back to bed – still laughing I might add. How can he sleep knowing that this rabid beast is loose in our home? I just don’t understand.

And that is why I was at Walmart at 10:30 at night. I bought 8 glue boards and placed them at various points throughout the trailer. Yes, I will pick them up before I let the pup out of his kennel in the morning. Hopefully there will be a carcass attached to one of them.

Did you know that if you get a glue board stuck to your skin that olive oil takes it right off? Yeah, neither did I.

I do now.

Live and learn.

STUCK at the Walmart Self Check Out

Walmart line 2
Ever got “stuck” at Walmart’s self check out? This might help.
I was at Walmart yesterday, the one in North Charleston, on Rivers Ave. I went through the self check out, no problem but as I reached the door I realized I had forgotten one little thing – the candy I promised my husband I would pick up for him.
I turned around, grabbed it off the display, and went back to the self check outs – because that would be so fast, right?
I rang up my little $1.98 bag of candy (so my sweet husband would be happy), my total was $2.17 so I put a $10 bill in the machine.
It gave me my loose change (all in dimes – thanks) and a $5. Then it stopped.
There was a message on it that said I was still due $2.
I looked around. The cashier that was watching the corral at the time was with another customer. When she was finished she came over to me, looked at the register, punched a couple of buttons. She said, “This is a card only machine.”
Well, I sure wish she had told me this before I put my money in it!
I replied, “There was no sign, I didn’t know. The machine didn’t even indicate it was card only.”
She said, “We hadn’t switched them over yet.” Then she just stood there looking at me.
I briefly considered apologizing for leaving my psychic belt at home that day.
Instead, I just looked back.
She pointed (like I didn’t understand), “This is a card only machine.”
Oh! That machine! Thanks for clearing that up!
Me, (to her) “I didn’t know..” (to myself) “Sure wish someone had told me that BEFORE I put my money in here and wound up in the the Walmart Twilight Zone.”
Then she stared at me some more. It was clear she didn’t know what her next move should be.
I stood there, looking back, I didn’t know either; I’ve never worked at Walmart – but I am fairly certain resolutions to these types of problems do not involve brain surgery or rocket science. But I might be wrong.
It was getting hot. I think it must have been about 78 degrees in there.
The little light on top was spinning or flashing or whatever it does to signal the gurus on the mountain top to come down and make the world right again with their mystical swipey card thingys and mysterious codes.
No one came.
I’m pretty sure it was about 84 degrees in there. I was starting to sweat.
Still I waited. The girl went from register to register while I stood there waiting for my long lost $2. I started considering names for them to pass the time. In retrospect, none of them were particularly nice names so I’ll just keep that part to myself, if you don’t mind.
At one point she came up and mumbled something to me but I couldn’t understand what she said – partly because she mumbled and partly because she was trying to talk around what appeared to be a quadruple tongue piercing. I never knew there was such a thing.
It must have been new because she was slurring her words – bad.
The sweat was rolling. I am almost certain it was 95 degrees in there.
So about 10 minutes passed. She kept saying someone was coming, no one did. I was starting to wonder if it was worth $2 to stand here in this blistering heat (It had to be 100 degrees in there). Then I thought, YES! It is worth it! It’s the principle of the thing!
5 more minutes passed. Principle wavered.
In an act of desperation, I took out my phone and looked up that Walmart’s website. I hit the “Call” icon and pressed 0 to connect to an associate.
When the operator answered, I said, “Hello. I am standing here in your store, right now. I’m at the self check out, register 45. This machine owes me $2 and I have been standing here for quite a while. The lady here doesn’t know how to help me. Can you please send a manager over here?”
I think I caught the operator off guard. She hesitated, then said, “Uh, sure.”
I said, “Thank you so much. I am the large woman with long hair, standing by the register with nothing to do.”
I thanked the bewildered operator again, hung up, and wiped the sweat from my brow (I know for sure it wasn’t a degree less than 110!).
THREE MINUTES later the STORE MANAGER showed up. In less than a minute she had fussed at the woman from the self check out corral, grabbed a guy and told him to get her off those registers, appointed another woman to take her place, and escorted me to customer service where she handed me my $2.
I thanked her and went on my way, eager to escape the overstimulating sensory jungle that is Walmart. I was never so grateful to walk out into the muggy, sticky South Carolina heat as I was that day. I’m pretty sure it was cooler outside than it was in there – I know for a fact it had to be 150 degrees in there!

Dear Mr. President


At this stage in the game it really doesn’t matter who voted for you and who didn’t. We’re all living in the same America and regardless of what we did as individuals, AS A NATION we voted you into the presidency.

There is a lot of speculation and a lot of people are jumping to conclusions about what you will do, what you might do, and what the outcomes will be. In truth, though, we can’t predict any of that and doing so is quite frankly a waste of time and energy, not to mention a vain attempt at fear mongering in an effort to keep certain segments of the population bound.

I choose, Mr. President, to focus on the opportunities ahead of you. You say you want to “make America great again.” I assure you, sir, the entire world has eyes on you to see how you will accomplish that.

I’ll also tell you a little secret. Down deep, most Americans have a desire to make America great again. Some just don’t know how to make it happen and, of course, there are those who don’t believe you can do it. But you already knew that, didn’t you?

I choose to believe that Jesus is still in control. I also believe that there were enough faithful Christians praying for a real change and He heard our prayers. I don’t believe in fate, or luck, or coincidences. I do believe that He can move in circumstances and situations, direct them, or turn them around for His glory and for the good of those who follow His will for their lives.

Not to mean any disrespect, but if He can use an ass to get Balaam back on the right path, He can certainly use you. If He can use an ass to right Balaam He can certainly use me, my neighbor, my children, all the people on social media (even Twitter).

I won’t put my faith in you; you’re just a man. Instead, I am putting my faith in Jesus and pray He keeps His hand in your administration.

I’ve given this a lot of thought, sir. You have quite a job ahead of you. Here are some things I hope that you will keep in mind as you make decisions that will benefit our country.

Job Creation – This is all well and good, but there is more to the story than creating more jobs and making them available to people. So many people are struggling with child care, job training, education, and transportation. I am not advocating bigger government or more government programs; people need to learn how to provide for themselves. However, they need certain tools to accomplish that. They may need transportation to and from work, child care, or even a safe place to sleep at night.

And while we are on the subject of having a safe place to sleep at night: THERE IS NO REASON FOR ANYONE IN THE UNITED STATES TO BE HOMELESS OR HUNGRY! Yet I see it every day – even in myself. I was homeless and would still be homeless if I hadn’t been able to get an RV. And believe me, I work hard to earn money and pay my bills.

The Economy – I am concerned about our economy as a whole, but for these purposes I think some focus needs to be on the individual. Our schools aren’t teaching our children basic life skills like budgeting, balancing a checkbook, filing your taxes, or how to manage a household. Every American needs to know how to do this! So many come from homes where the parents take care of everything or from homes where the government takes care of everything. Neither scenario is conducive for successfully living independently.

Immigration – This is a touchy issue for me because I personally know people who came over here illegally (who are now legal citizens) as well as those who entered the country legally and I love them all dearly. However, our borders are OUT OF CONTROL. As much as I understand the plight of the immigrants, I also believe that the law is the law and it should be respected. I realize that some of the conditions these immigrants escaped are beyond our comprehension, unspeakable. I also understand that a country is only as strong as its borders.

The process for entering the country needs some refinement. Yes, there are some people who enter the country illegally with nothing but mischief on their mind. Those people are up to no good. There are those, though, who are sincerely trying to make a better life from their families. They also happen to be extremely poor, too poor to afford all the fees and expenses attached to immigrating to the U.S. These countries have figured out that keeping their people poor and uneducated will prevent them from leaving, mainly because they won’t have the resources to do so. The only recourse these people feel they have if they want a better life, or even just to survive, is to break the law in order to escape those dark corners of the world.

Then again, we have plenty of dark corners inside our own borders. Shouldn’t we get a handle on them, get healthy, before we open ourselves up to people from outside?

I wholeheartedly agree that we need to keep the terrorists and “bad guys” out and we have to stop all the illegal traffic because that opens the door for so many horrific things like human trafficking, drugs, murder, slavery, the list goes on.

I don’t have any answers. I wish I did.

Racism – People in this country have lost their ever-loving minds over this race business! This perpetual victimization is a product of long term bondage – from government programs, from skewed thinking, from mental illness, from talking heads who have one agenda – to start a race war. I suppose that racism will always exist, but in truth, it is the result of a weak mind and inferior intellect. I am not talking about book smarts; anyone can have that. I am talking about the true intelligence that allows logic and reason, objectivity, and the ability to see beyond your own point of reference.

The good news is that just about anyone can be trained as long as there are consequences. However, there has to be a level playing field. A hate crime for one race must be a hate crime for other races. For far too long the government has drawn lines between the races, thus dividing them. Those lines need to be erased! We are ONE RACE, the HUMAN RACE – and we need to start acting like it.

Foreign RelationsYes, it is good to help other countries who are struggling but not at the expense of those on our own soil who are struggling. I am not a fan of government programs because for the most part they keep people dependent upon the government and never teach them how to live independently. I know there are exceptions to the rule, but they are few and far between. Something needs to change, though. There are too many people who are unemployed or underemployed (income is not enough to meet cost of living expenses) so they turn to government programs.

I see at least three remedies for this.

Make it easier for working people to meet their cost of living expenses – independently. This can be accomplished through lower costs, higher wages, better training, and probably lots of other great ideas.

Make it easier for people to become more employable through training, education, and corporate programs (this could also serve to provide valuable networking opportunities for them).

Teach people how to create a household budget and better manage their finances.

The family structure is eroding because values are eroding. Parents spend the bulk of their time working to make ends meet, they come home exhausted, and little Johnny has to tuck himself into bed at night. In most families both parents must work if they want to provide for their families. My husband and I live in a travel trailer – AN RV!  – and still we both have to work in order to get our bills paid – and it’s just the two of us. We live very modestly, have one vehicle, I cook all our meals at home (we rarely eat out). Still we struggle. This is ridiculous!

Food – No one is talking much about this, but families need access to AFFORDABLE food that is healthy, fresh, and natural. The processed junk that lines our grocery store shelves is cheap but it is killing us. Food stamps and commodities are not the answer. Supporting the local farmers, the small farms and encouraging the growth of non-GMO, organic produce as well as clean AB free meats is a better option. People need better access to the food, not a crutch or handout. Make healthy, fresh food more accessible to people and you will seem medical expenses go down, insurance costs decrease, and a drop in the cost of living as people get healthier and lose less time off of work.

Disability – Many disabled people are not unemployable, but they are made to believe that they are. I know, I am one of them. I was fortunate to be blessed with the skill, discipline, and will to write freelance and that is how I support my family. I realize that not everyone has these qualities, but some skills can be taught and developed. The immediate default for most seems to be: get sick or injured, get labeled disabled, quit your job, and get disability from the government. Are there are some people who cannot work outside of the home or cannot work full time or can’t work in certain positions? Absolutely. But for many there are other things they could be doing.

Education and job training can go a long way in helping people learn new skills and qualify for jobs that are more disability friendly. Providing incentives to companies that create disability friendly environments with accommodations like flex work, shared workspaces, telework, and similar initiatives would go a long way in making the disabled more employable.

Government programs should not be permanent fixes in most cases and those who are enrolled should be required to participate in activities and programs that will teach them how to be self-sufficient unless they meet stringent criteria for total disability.

My husband and I were homeless, living in our van, for a good portion of 2013 through 2015. We did not participate in any government programs, not even food stamps. I sought work as a writer and that is how we ate and paid our expenses. When my husband got a job, we started putting away money to save for a down payment on a travel trailer. It took a lot of work and we had to be very resourceful (you can’t get internet in a van and I needed it to work), but we did it. Even though I am autistic and don’t work well outside the home, I still found a way to earn a living. I realize that we are not typical, but we are proof that it can be done – if you want it bad enough.

More government programs to take care of people is not the answer. All they are doing is robbing people of their individuality, their self-esteem, their self-respect, and their power because society tells us that we should all be able to support ourselves and our family – but our government makes it nearly impossible for many.

Government programs keep people bound, but many of the people who are not on those programs are equally guilty of the bondage. They rely on the government to take care of those less fortunate so that they don’t have to do it themselves.

Those who have should be mentoring and empowering those who have not.

At this point you probably think I am an idealist – it wouldn’t be the first time someone called me that. All I know is something has got to give. We can’t keep going like this. I am not asking you to cure all of our country’s problems; no one can do that because it has to start with the individual. Only God can change hearts and minds and circumstances and situations. But there is plenty that we, as a country, can do to help ourselves.

The American people have been programmed, brainwashed, to believe that depending upon someone else to support their family, for survival is normal. There is nothing normal about it. These government programs are actually producing the very circumstances that keep people flocking to them, that keep them poor and bound. There seems to be a general consensus that in order to maintain control our government must keep the people poor (broke) and uneducated.

The American people have been beaten down long enough!

Sure, there are some who don’t want to work; they want everything handed to them. I also believe that those people are in the minority. Most people want to be self-sufficient. They want to have the ability to raise their children, support their families, and stand on their own two feet. Those who manage to accomplish that should be caring for the children and the elderly who can’t.

I will say it again. We need to be helping each other. I believe that that will be one of your biggest tasks.

This nation is in crisis; it’s people are in crisis. You are going to need to pull this country up by its bootstraps and that will shock many.

I want to believe that the world is still full of good, decent, hardworking people. I fully expect to get hate mail once this goes live. Those who want everything handed to them, those who don’t want to work, those who don’t want to be self-sufficient will certainly rail against this. I can only imagine the excuses. But think about this: if the only people participating in the government programs were the ones who truly needed them, those who were truly unable to work due to severe disability (think quadriplegic or end stage cancer patient) how much money would that free up to get people educated, working, and productive?

Please don’t let their laziness, apathy, and selfishness sway you from your task at hand. There will always be a certain segment in any society that does nothing but drain it of its resources and greedily suck up everything they can (that they NEVER worked for) from hard working people who deserve better. We hard working folks are the ants; those parasites are the grasshoppers.

Please don’t structure this nation to accommodate grasshoppers. That has gone on long enough here.

I am praying for you, for your administration. You have some hard work ahead of you. So when you are making America great again, please remember its greatest asset: its people.


Stephanie A. Mayberry
A concerned citizen of the U.S. who wants to see America get great again.

Open Letter to My Abuser

Note: This is a guest post. I am posting it for a friend. She is in fear for her life right now because of her involvement in an abusive relationship. She has been victimized and though she has gotten away from him, he continues to pursue her and terrorize her.

I hope this raises awareness. Leaving an abusive relationship is often only the beginning of yet another nightmare.

My dearest love/abuser:

How did we come to this?

Today I made out papers to have you–the one I have loved so very much–arrested. It was one of the hardest things I have ever done. I took no joy in it.

How did we come to this?

As I filled out the paragraphs of things you have done, threats, abuse, breaking into my home, my mind couldn’t help but wander back to happier times. You came to me at a time when I was at my most vulnerable, sick mentally and physically from what another had done. You took my hand and helped me up. You told me that I deserved better, and knew exactly what to say and do to put me at ease and calm my fears.

I thought that I had found a haven with you, and we soon became inseparable. I trusted you with my heart and my life, and this was my first mistake.

The signs I ignored are so clear to me now, the times we ran into your friends, and you stood with me behind you while I waited for introductions that never came, the photos where you were so careful to leave a space between us, another person, a table., etc., the frequent texts and private phone calls, the intense jealousy that I thought meant that you loved me. How foolish I was.

The punishment and reward pattern did not become clear until after the abuse intensified. When I pleased you, life was good, but I pleased you less and less. I tried harder to make you happy, but this became first a very difficult task, then an impossible one.

It wasn’t always this way. Because of you I had started writing again. I resumed my singing and my photography, long abandoned talents. I felt beautiful again because you said that I was. I had found myself in your eyes, but then your eyes turned from me.

Now I have to ask someone else to protect me from you.

The policeman said the protective order would not save my life, the judge would not grant it, and you laughed. The eyes that once held such warmth turned cold, and you laughed.

You broke into my home and went through my things. You threaten me daily, so now I have signed these papers. They won’t save me either… but I will.

I’ll save me because I’m tired. I’m tired of being bullied. I’m tired of backing down and being made to feel like less. So even though my eyes teared up and my hands shook, I signed those papers, and you will be arrested. Where it goes from here, I don’t know. All I know is that I’m sad, tired, and hurting – but I’m still standing.

I still believe in the goodness of people. I still believe that life can be better, and I’m going to keep striving, praying, reaching out to friends, until I see the sun shine again. My dearest abuser, I’m so sorry it came to this, but I have had enough, and it ends here. The abuse will stop. I am done.

The woman who refuses to be your victim any longer

You can help her take back her life by donating to her GoFundMe account. Please give if you can.