mature adult woman working at home
***TRIGGER WARNING*** There is not physical violence described here, but there is harsh words and scenarios, so I feel like it warranted a warning anyway.
Even though I have been out of DV for almost 7 years, it never quite goes away…that is, the fallout from it: the PTSD, the triggers, the emotions. With financial issues that I have had personally, lately, it brings up some of these feelings that I need to get out of my system. So, I choose to reflect, then purge them through my writing. It’s almost as if putting them on a page bares them to the world, so they’ll dry up in the light and go away like poison ivy. Writing IS my calamine lotion!
I’ll start by describing a day in my life, during active abuse: we will start the night before. My abusive [then] husband and I had an argument about something like a bill coming due or me catching my Abuser in a lie or with me asking him to help me with the kids by taking them to activities — you know something as “frivolous” as that. He then decides that he is leaving because all I want to do, according to him, is to argue. I sigh because all I want is clarity and partnership; however, I let him go, thinking he will come back later in the evening. He texts back later that very evening stating that he’s sleeping in his semi-truck at work (which is a lie, according to his phone location), but it’s nothing that I have ANY control over. He alleges that I make him so mad that he has to stay away from me in order to calm down and reset. I’ve gotten to a point in my relationship that I view that as a “win,” as there will be no violence or arguing or breaking of my things.
Here’s the real issue at hand: it’s Tuesday night and I am out of money. I have $10 holding my bank account open and THAT’S IT. I do not get paid until Friday. It was me asking for money for a few night’s worth of groceries that really set him off, so he started an argument on a different topic so that I would be distracted. Luckily, I found enough food ingredients to whip something up at home to feed myself and my children, so Tuesday night was saved! (Thank the Heavens for Google!) I set about to cleaning up after dinner, checking homework, getting children baths and showers, and getting them to bed. I also packed my work lunch and setup my bags and clothes to be ready in the morning. It was at this moment that I discovered that I was out of feminine products — and Aunt Flo was visiting HARD. Oh, crap!
‘No money’ can easily depress someone, but I found I had to make it my motivator! I felt tears stinging my eyes, but brushed them away. Get it together, girl! I decided to start looking through all of my spare purses in my closet. To my delight, I found 11 feminine napkins and two tampons — praise Jesus! That would get me through a few days! Crisis averted! I also found like $3 in change. It was win-win, for sure!
As I am crawling into bed, I get a weepy child coming into my room to tell me that they had to turn in money for their field trip or they would have to stay behind. I assure him I’ll work it out and get him back into bed. I text his teacher, to see if I could PayPal her the money or bring it to school on Friday morning. I get an answering text back that she was fine with PayPal, first thing on Friday morning and that she’d put him down as “going.” Whew! I turn out the light and go to sleep. My phone kept vibrating, all night, like a bumble bee polinating flowers, with texts from my Abuser, that I continue to ignore. He wants to be “away,” but wants to know where I am and what I’m doing. AT. ALL. TIMES. Fat chance, deserter. See you after work tomorrow. Zzzzzzzzzzzz…
4 AM on Wednesday morning comes early and I get up to go to the gym. My oldest has moved back home, so I tell him that I’ll be back and I lock the door behind me. My gym is literally two blocks away, but I drive anyway because its pitch-black out and I don’t want to tempt fate by getting kidnapped — although could it be worse than my current situation? I mean, how MUCH worse, I wonder. I snap myself back to attention. However, as I’m driving, I noticed my gas gauge was nearly on E! OH NO! Now what!?!
As I’m working out, I’m racking my brain on what I can do for gas for the next few days until payday, when it dawns on me: the container of lawnmower gas in the garage! YES! When I return from the gym, I check and to my delight, there is a full five gallon container of gas. I decide I will fight about that later. I had a job to get to and little people to take care of! I carefully angle it into my gas tank and fill up my VW.
As I’m getting ready for work and to get my children out the door, I am ‘informed,’ by my youngest, that he is eating the last PopTart, as there is cereal, but NO milk. I heave a huge sigh. It is Wednesday, and I have to get through two suppers and one more breakfast, before pay day. I decide that after work, I’ll have to go into the negative in my checking account in order to buy some things at the grocery store that I will need, in order to feed the masses. Going negative will cover what I need to buy, but then it will also come with a $38 “non-sufficient funds” fee that I will have to pay back, as well as an additional $38 for every two days that the account is in the negative. I thank God right then and there that my youngest child’s lunch account has a surplus in it currently, thanks to my parents “secretly” adding to it. At least that was a certainty for him and me. I, however, have packed leftovers. I run on leftovers and diet soft drinks, ironically.
After I get my youngest one on the bus, and wake up the middle one for work, I head to work myself. My phone keeps buzzing and vibrating in my purse, but then gets eerily still. I normally have to leave my phone locked in my car, because I was a teacher at the time, but I pull it out to see how many times he’s texted and call. I’m early, so I investigate. To my surprise, my iPhone displays “No Service.” Huh? Peculiar. Or is it? I call the provider customer service, only to discover that my Abuser has shut my phone off. WHAT!?!?! I still have Wifi, so I message him.
“Why TF did you shut my phone off?” I demanded over text.
“Because you can’t bother to answer me, and I’m the only one that matters.”
His words infuriate me. I felt like throwing my phone, but then start to laugh to myself. I already know that is one way that he tracks me (with geolocation). So, I boldly texted:
“Fine. Good luck finding me then. Maybe I’ll take a vacation day.” I will pay for those words later, but I felt immense satisfaction at saying it, at least. I turn it completely off and walk into work.
After work, I come out to a hot car and turn my phone back on. Hmmmm, I suddenly have service again. However, I also have text messages from him informing me I’d better have a hot dinner ready for tonight. Greeeeeeeeat. It was then that I remember I could go to the food pantry down town, as I hadn’t been in a few months. I head downtown to go to the food pantry, and to my delight am able to go right in and get things. They give me meat, God bless them, as well as sides I can fix. And two gallons of milk! YESSSSSS! I leave there and run in to get the few things I wasn’t given, like lettuce, as I have to eat differently than my family, due to health issues. I had to go -$15 to get things to make it to Friday, but a girl has to do what a girl has to do.
I pickup my youngest from after-school-care and go home to get busy on dinner. I set my children to straightening up and feeding pets, while I cook dinner.
“Mom,” the youngest one reports. “I just fed the dogs, and there is enough dog food for tomorrow morning…then, we’ll be out.” All I could do was heave a HUGE sigh. I feel like the Universe was against me, at this point.
I had spaghetti and garlic bread and salad ready when my Abuser walked through the door. He greeted the dogs, but said nothing to the kids and I. My other two children reported that their phones were shut off for a while that day too. Since he wasn’t talking, I decided to dominate the conversation and ask the kids about their day. My Abuser ate silently, while they chatterered. He finished quickly and got up abruptly and dropped his plate into the sink. I just kept talking to my kids, as if he didn’t exist. He went into our bedroom, changed clothes, and left, saying nothing to no one. I had decided a long time ago that I didn’t acknowledge his bad behavior. His “silent treatment” used to bother me, but no longer. I just returned the favor.
I cleaned up after dinner, putting away leftovers, and then played a board game with the kids. I got them into their bedtime routines after that, then packed my work lunch and laid out my things for in the AM the next morning. I decided we had enough leftovers to have “leftover Thursday” for dinner the next day. If he didn’t like that, then I’m sure I’d hear about it and more.
My Abuser came home late that night, smelling of A LOT of alcohol, slept a few hours, then woke up at the same time I did so I could go to the gym. I noticed my work clothes were thrown on the floor. When I went to the fridge to get my protein shake, I noticed my work lunch was thrown in the sink. Nice.
I shook my head and walked toward the door. He started spouting something about I wasn’t going to the gym, but to see an [imaginary] boyfriend. “Maybe he can buy you lunch,” he challenged, but I just walked past him and shut the door behind me. I wasn’t engaging. Not today, Satan.
When I returned from the gym, he pulled up behind me, even though he was supposed to be on his way to work. “I caught you!” he declared.
I looked confused. “What? What in the heck are you talking about. I need to go in and take a shower.”
“I caught you talking to your boyfriend at the gym,” he declared proudly. I used to cringe when he’d say things like this but I didn’t flinch. In fact, I donned my best poker face.
“Does he, at least, look like Keanu Reeves?” I challenge. I think my comment literally made him growl. I stopped and said, “Do you know how ridiculous you are? I talked to one man…”
“AH-HA!” he shouted triumphantly, again.
I knitted my brow. “I talked to one man….who wanted to know if I was done using the spray to wipe down my treadmill.” I shook my head and went toward the door. I then stopped and turned to him. “Were you sitting in the parking lot watching? If so, if you’re late for work and get fired, you had that coming.” I’d probably pay for that comment too, but I was really beyond the point of caring. Whatever.
He left while I was in the shower, so when I went out to my car to go to work — I noticed, to my despair, that I now had a flat tire. I knew I’d pay for my snarky comment. My driveway isn’t flat, so I put it in neutral and rolled it down the driveway. I got my jack out and put my spare on my car. A neighbor ran over to assist me, so it went quite a bit faster. Great. Now I have to replace a tire!?! Crap! When my neighbor put my damaged tire in my car, he pointed out that it was slashed down the tread and not repairable. That is just f-ing wonderful! My Abuser must’ve thought he’d return the favor by trying to make me late for work. I had called my boss when I discovered it was flat, to notify her, but I still managed to arrive on time. Thankfully it was Thursday. I also went without lunch, too mad to think about eating, but turned out that our boss brought a sandwich platter and I got to eat anyway.
Also, I remembered that we would now be out of dog food and racked my brain on how I was going to manage that feat. I decided to call the local animal shelter and explain my plight. They kindly told me to come by and get a 30 lb bag of dog food. I was ecstatic! I thanked them profusely, over and over. They even stayed over until I was able to come by after work. I made a mental note to purchase dog food and donate it to them, so they could help out someone else.
Dinner that evening was okay, as he was happy and talked over everyone, so no issues there. I figured he was giddy from teaching me a lesson, but I didn’t even mention it. After the kids went to get ready for bed, he decided to inquire:
“Why is your donut [tire] on your car?” He sounded slightly concerned, but had a smirky tone to that question.
I stopped loading the dishwasher and looked at him, incredulously. “You know why.”
“Awwwww,” he chided. “Did you get a flat tire? Maybe you should take more care.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but instantly stopped myself. I had no idea what fallout would befall me if I said what I wanted to say. I thought better of it. I silently finished my after-dinner clean up.
I set out everything, as normal, thankful that the next day was pay day. I vowed I would get up early on Saturday morning and get another tire for my car. My spare tire was doing fine and would be okay for one more day. I thanked God for covering me and for giving me clear thought to continue moving my family forward. Satan’s minion couldn’t faze me, although I should’ve felt guilt at thinking of my husband in that manner — but I didn’t. I also got online and found some coupons for my local tire place for a discount on an oil change, tire rotation, and ANY tire purchase. I swiftly printed those and put them in my purse. I got all of my chores done, my clothes and food setup, and went to bed — but not before I prayed a prayer of thanksgiving for all of my blessings.
Financial abuse is real, folks. All of this REALLY happened and my co-workers and neighbors and family never knew. Be kind ALWAYS, because you have no idea what battles people are fighting! Love and light! <3
