Part VI: A Devil In Disguise

For a time, as I finally chew through the gloom, I will admit that these posts become more and more difficult to write.

It also is not unexpected that writing about the reasons I still struggle with anxiety actually trigger anxiety?

I know that I am blessed with the ability to share this story, which is not necessarily an easy one, but that does not mean it is easy.  Some of you may already know bits and pieces of this story and while my posts are not inclusive of everything that occurred during that dark time in my life, I understand that they are a jumping point.


 

What follows may cause triggers for those who have experienced domestic violence in their life.  If you are concerned the descriptions, even mild ones, of my experiences could cause a trigger for you, I would like to encourage you to skip this post.


 

 

It wouldn’t be long before the Marine got into trouble with his unit.  I still don’t know what caused him to be restricted, only that he was in trouble.
It definitely made life easier and harder at the same time.
Everyday after work for the duration of his restriction go home, make dinner, and then drive it up to the barracks.
It wasn’t long before I began noticing that white car.  It seemed to be waiting for me when I left the back gate, after work, and always behind me.
Sure it was southern Calirfornia and a lot of people drove white cars, but this white car was everywhere.  They were always too close, always pushing me to go faster in the slow lane, and always weaving in and out of traffic to stay behind me every time I changed lanes.
That white car caused a few panic attacks on its own.
On more than one occasion I sped up into the rest stop between my work exit and the San Clemente Road Gate to pull into a crowded lot.
Soon the car was following me further.  All the way to the gate only to turn around when I pulled into the check in.  More than once the guard on duty would comment about the white car and ask if I needed the MPs.
Having mentioned my concerns about the white car to the Marine previously and having him strictly forbidding me from calling the cops or the MPs my answer was always no.
After the Marine was home from restriction, the calls started again and I was once again banned from internet and phone use.
He was excited, almost gleeful.  ‘She’ had gotten a new car.  Specifically a new, <em>white</em>, car.
At that point, I was paranoid about the white car.  It had been parking outside of my place of work for several weeks.  My hours were cut and I was asked to tell my friend to leave the property.
I never approached the car.
And after his response to mentioning the white car following me all the way to base to pick him up, he responded with his hands around my neck.  I was strictly forbidden to call the police.
He was so red and angry his face was burning red and when he let go I caught another backhand.  Screams, things being frozen again including a bottle of vodka, this time clipping me as it hit the wall by the door.
My neighbor, a family in our unit tried to get him out of the house and to leave.
That night, MPs were called.  By the time the arrived all was quiet and I was asleep in the bathroom trying to muffle the screams of the wife across our small patch of grass from our apartment.
My friend who lived next door would later tell me it was one of the most terrifying nights of her life.
I wish the deployment had been my wake up call.  It should have been my wake up and run like hell call.
Convinced I deserved every bit of grief and terror I had experienced I believed I was where I needed to be.
I had my head on strait as possible.  I was taking care of the wives in our unit and I blossomed without him present.
I finally spoke up about what had happened after the Marine was on his way home.  Read his rights in Germany, the world exploded into chaos.
While it was controlled chaos and I fell for him promising to never hurt me again.
Oh the lies I believed.

 


While you can never force someone to get help, you aren’t helpless to watch those you love be hurt over and over again.  Intervention can be frightening for you and a loved one you are confronting.

Don’t watch silently.  Encourage them to have a voice and reach out instead of hiding.

This series will continue in the next few days.  I just can’t dwell on this more today.

Thank you for your support!

 

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