Real Independence Day

This post was originally written and published in mid July 2016. I don’t write a lot about domestic abuse. There’s an element of shame. There’s also guilt. Guilt for putting my children through the abuse. Guilt that maybe part of it was my fault, and I deserved it. (It wasn’t! I didn’t!)  I think I need to share more of my experience. If there is one person out there who is lost, afraid, hopeless and feeling like no one could understand, and my experiences can help them feel less alone…



I’ve been having nightmares. I’ve been feeling overwhelming anxiety. My pain level has been much higher and my temper has been shorter. The weather has been hotter than normal, and that adds to it, but that isn’t the problem. The problem is that I have PTSD.

I was married to an abusive alcoholic for 21 years. He had periods of sobriety lasting from a few days to his longest, eight years. He was the kindest, most generous, most loving person I’ve ever met. He was smart and funny and hard working. Until he took a drink. When he drank he was angry, hurtful, spiteful and mean. His abuse was rarely physical, he preferred emotional and psychological torture. He was the master of gaslighting and name calling. He wanted to argue at top volume for hours. If I went to another room, he followed. If I went to bed, he’d wake me up to yell at me.

When neighbors would call the police, their answer was always for me & my daughters to go stay at my mother’s house. He had no family or friends he could go to. And he couldn’t drive anyway because he was drunk.

July 2, 2008. I had injured my back doing laundry and couldn’t really move much. I was on the couch watching a movie with my younger daughter. Her sister, who was 7 months pregnant at the time, was at work. My husband decided it was time to start screaming at me. The police came and again we were sent to my mother’s house.

At this time I hadn’t gotten my SSDI. I had no income. I had no car. I was in pain physically, emotionally & mentally. My daughters & I decided we would not go back. We didn’t know where we would go or how we would support ourselves. We were afraid of him coming to wherever we went but we were ready to try.

I spent the next week trying to get cash aid and food stamps. My pregnant daughter did the same. We were bombarded with phone calls and drive bys from my husband. Until he crashed his truck. He was arrested for DUI & released 8 hours later. The truck was impounded. At least there would be no more drive bys.

He talked his parents into buying him a bus ticket back to Indiana. He wanted to see his family. That was the best thing that could’ve happened. On July 11, 2008 I met him at the bus station and helped him get his ticket. I waited until that bus pulled away.

The only way my daughters and I could really have room to try to rebuild our lives was for him to be 2000 miles away. He left a huge financial mess. He left a huge physical mess. But at least he was gone.

We looked over our shoulders for a long time. All three of us still deal with PTSD from the years of abuse. July is always hard. But at least we’re free now.


(Photo from Pixabay)

17 thoughts on “Real Independence Day

  1. Congrats for getting free! I did the same and it was so hard, also leaving me in a financial mess. Mine wasn’t an alcoholic but the anger/control issues were similar. Unfortunately my girls are still in occasional contact and allow him to upset them, but as adults that’s their choice.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It’s a horrible situation to live in and difficult to escape. I’m glad you were able to get free too!
      My older daughter won’t have contact but my younger does. Sometimes he’s sober when they talk and sometimes she’s sad and worried. As you say, they’re adults and have to make their own choices.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Angie, I’m so terribly sorry for all that you and your daughters endured. My father was the same way, a mean rotten to the core alcoholic. He was a detective in my hometown, and we were always instructed to leave the house too.
    The mental and emotional abuse outweighed the physical. I always swore I would never drink… That was until I was introduced to liquor. Then I became a carbon copy of him.
    I can proudly say I will be four years sober August 14th.
    My mother was married to my father for 22 years, with the three of us kids, me being the eldest. I was the one who drove the getaway car during those brutal fights. Reading your story was like walking back into my past. I can so understand the nightmares you experienced because my mother and I experienced them as well.
    Thank you so much for sharing this part of your life with us.
    Many, many ((((Hugs))))

    Liked by 1 person

      1. You know what is sad… that what happened to us, has and continues to happen all over the place within several families, or couples. Most of which are covered by secrets and/or hidden.
        Our familes broke free! That’s the bravest thing to accomplish. 💪👍👏
        You are so sweet in how you review my alcohol recovery as a birthday. I never saw it that way. Thank you, Angie. That made me feel so good when I read that. 🤗 🤩

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Wow, what a terrible place to find yourself. I find the Jekyll and Hyde aspect of abusers hard to reconcile. A few years ago, while working for a DV nonprofit, I went to observe a court mandated therapy group for abusers. They all seemed so normal. Many charming. Yet I knew they all had been abusive enough to be arrested at one point. Very weird for me to consider from my extremely sheltered relationship life. Glad you’ve broken away. Hope he stays the hell away for good.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It’s very weird to live it! I still find it hard to understand how he could change SO drastically. The 8 year stretch was awesome in It’s boring normalcy😂 Younger was born during that time, and we were just a regular family of 4… work, school, weekend camping trips. He was my best friend.
      He also psychologically tortured me. Very hard to reconcile.
      He scared the crap out of me with a 14 page letter last year. I was afraid he was gonna show up. I’m not afraid of him, but 2000 miles away is where I like him.

      Liked by 1 person

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