Monday is a good start. I went back to my attorney to file for divorce. I had the money for my retainer and the strength of my convictions. I held to my beliefs that exposing him for what he had done to me during our marriage was the wrong tactic to use in order to get out safely. I know that many in authority or as advocates for abused women would disagree with me but I knew my husband and to criticize him openly would bring the harsh consequences of narcissistic rage. He had shown me over the years just how far he would go if exposed or confronted and I wasn't about to tempt fate. Remember, too, that this was a time when police and legal authorities professed to the allegiance of the good old boys club. They would "go easy on the guy" after all he's one of us. I trusted that bit of information and continued to doubt that they would help me. I could trust only my own experience and that told me to never to reject him; to make him look bad in front of others would be a fatal mistake. So I filed a no fault divorce and said nothing further about my reasons for seeking a divorce. I refused to give him ammunition to use against me or twist to his own advantage. All information to an abuser is fair game for lies and manipulations. Just keep quiet and proceed. Justice is unlikely to prevail against a dangerous narcissist and you could be the one hanging at the end of a rope designed to thwart your attempt to leave him. After 17 years with him I was fully aware of his vindictive nature. After reaching his boiling point, he was beyond reason. I refused to go there.
We were going on 6 weeks at our safe house. I never thought it would take this long. My daughter who was 11 at the time had secretly given him the phone number of where we were staying. So he started calling there. I was shocked but I spoke with him to try and diffuse the situation around the people who had opened their home to me. He was trying to tempt me back home with trying to make me aware of what I would be losing if I left. He said " you know , if I take all the furniture in the family room, the kids and you will not have a TV" I told him I didn't think anyone died of not having a TV. His response was," OK then I'm taking it" and he hung up. If he had really cared for his children like he claimed, he would have left the TV for them and bought a new for himself. For me, it was one hurdle down but a lingering disappointment that my daughter had crossed a line and jeopardized our safety. I tried to accept that she had been tricked into giving it to him because she obviously wasn't as good at deciphering manipulation tactics. My son had also been displaying some defiant behaviors that were really out of character for him. I was shocked at some of the things he was doing. What was going on here? Perhaps it was the very idea of a divorce and not being in their own home. They certainly were not acting like grateful guests. I encouraged myself with the thought that once we got back home everything would be better. Patience.
It was time for the Deposition or Pretrial discovery, which would be held at my attorney's office and would be recorded by a court reporter. With the usual name address and phone out of the way we advanced to the mediation and divorce.
And then he started. His attorney proposed that I give him half of the property for his residence (which he would build). I said absolutely not I was not living next door to him for any reason. If they insisted on doing that I wanted to sell the whole thing, house and all, and split the difference. They backed down. Then he accused me of taking some trees he had bought or planted down in the lower property. I thought here we go a downright lie to put me in a bad light. Trees???, I said, exclaiming that I knew nothing about any trees. I was getting angry with his attempt to lie. In trying to control myself I said "if there were any trees I don't know anything about what happened to them, maybe the horse ate them!" The entire room started laughing. It was over. His dishonesty had betrayed him.
We would soon be taking occupancy of our home and he would be compelled to move out. The actual divorce would take six months to complete.
Moving back in would take my breath away. He had absolutely had a fit of rage in there, taking everything that wasn't nailed down and destroying things in his way. WOW! I wasn't ready for this. There I go again, thinking that he would be fair and play by the rules. Of course he didn't. He expected that I would follow the ruling of the courts and be bound by an agreement but he definitely didn't have to comply because he was entitled to do bad things against me because he was absolved of integrity by evil design. He had a right to be mad and act on that anger in any way he saw fit. He refused to see himself as an aggressor or a monster or an abuser or a selfish brat who never grew up. In his efforts to reduce me to ruins, he had taken the fireplace insert out of the wall (all 500 pounds of it), he had broken the vacuum cleaner so it was inoperable. All of the furniture in the family room was gone which we had agreed to. He also took all of the silverware, the coffee pot, some dishes and my favorite pots and pans. Everywhere I looked there was nothing to cook with. He had stolen my grandmother's things that I had inherited and I never saw them again. One of the most uncomfortable destruction's he took was to cut a hole in the door jamb so we couldn't lock our doors against him. It was an aluminum door jamb for a slider and I truly did not know how to fix that. We would have to use a bar guard for the time being. When I dared to look in the bathroom even the shampoo was gone. We had one towel left for three people and the shower curtain was ripped down. My kids looked at me in disbelief, as if I had caused this. I had to pull myself together and be brave in face of his rebellion. Well, there are always second hand stores until we get better. My counselor asked me what I would do about such a large property, how would I take care of it She asked? Since I was fully aware that he had taken the lawn mower, I told her I would wait for the snow to cover it up: Never mind that it was still summer.
He had declared war and revealed his hand, we were not safe and, if he had his way, we would never be. I refused to crumble, I was out and I was staying out.
The world was spinning faster and faster as I prepared to leave. I did find full time employment, and I did start to save a little money on the side in a secret bank account. I was continuing with my counseling and I still maintained my long distance friendship. I had lined up a place for my children and I to stay when I left. She was the sister of a friend who agreed to take me in.
In the meantime he was becoming more concerned with my new job and my distance from him. Dirty tricks were afoot. It was mother's day and I wanted to send my mom some flowers because I wouldn't be able to take the weekend to see her. I called the florist, put it on my credit card and really???? They told me my name was no longer on that card. Well OK. What a jerk. I was leaving and this would not change my mind, as a matter of fact, it only heightened my need to get out of there and away from his hatred and double dealing. My mom would never know that I had tried but I called her instead and made the best of a bad situation. If I thought this was sneaky I was thoroughly dumbfounded by the audacity of the next one. One day at work I kept getting this uneasy message that I should go home on my lunch hour. It was purely invisible and out of the blue but a sixth sense message that something was out of bounds and I should trust my gut and go home. It would take me my entire lunch time to drive there and back again but I heeded the call. I arrived home and everything looked fine on the outside. Nobody was home and so I went in. On the table, in plain sight, was all his paper work and a filing box. When I looked more closely at it, I was in for a big surprise. He had taken all the money out of our savings account and had put in his Union account that he had just opened. Every last dime! I copied down the account number and left everything the way it was and returned to work. Then I called the Union hall and transferred ½ the money back into the joint account in both of our names. That way they wouldn't question the transfer. Then I drew it out that evening on my way home before he knew about it. When I did come home after work everything had disappeared and the table was clear of any hint of what he had done that day. He was sitting there as if nothing had happened, probably gloating to himself about what he had just pulled off. What a devious game he had implemented and I had to stoop to that level to get some fairness out of the deal. It was definitely over. I was done. I was simply waiting for my chance.
It was the last day of school before summer break. The kids were excited and were getting ready for their end of school year sleep over parties. They were both being picked up by their separate groups and would be gone until the next day. About that time my husband walked in and was on a rampage. He grabbed my son, pinned him up against the wall and was threatening him about some stuff that I knew nothing about. He didn't get very far because my sons ride drove up and my husband didn't want to be exposed for what he was so he let him go. With both kids out of the house now, he was strutting around looking for someone on whom to unleash his unresolved rage and he looked at me with contempt in his eyes. I was next and I knew it. He went down into the bathroom and I heard the shower turn on. He often showered right away to clean up after a dirty job. As soon as I heard that running water, I quietly stood up, got my purse car keys and phone book and drove away: Down the driveway and out of sight, hopefully forever. What a freeing feeling. I went over to a friend's house. To tell the truth, I was like a deer in the headlights. I almost didn't believe what I had just done.
Later that evening, the conscience of moral dilemma was dancing in my head. Maybe I should explain to him that I was leaving and why. So I went to my car and drove back home for a final parting. But when I got there the house was eerily dark. Since we lived out in a rural area 400 feet of the road, if our lights were off, It was really dark, BLACKOUT dark. The house was never that dark, that early. It was super alarming. I went to the front door and even the screen door was locked, then I tried the garage door locked and bolted, side door the same and then I approached the patio slider as I reached for it I heard that still small voice warning me that, "if I opened that door he would be sitting there in the dark with a shot gun waiting to blow me away and call it an intruder situation." What was I thinking? Why did I think it was necessary to treat him fairly after all he had done to me? I backed way and ran for my car. I drove off into the night, never to return. I was in a euphoric state as I returned to my friend's house. I had actually escaped with my life and my kids were safe. My friends' would pick them up for me tomorrow and the three of us would head for my safe place.
