Therapy Part 2

So in trying to write part 2 of my therapeutic writing of the abuse and my story I am really having trouble. Partly because I will have to admit the biggest mistakes I made but also because that means I will have to get into the rape. I dont even know how many people I know are aware that I was raped and so if any of them even read this (which I somehow doubt) are going to end up being surprised and possibly horrified/disgusted/disbelieving/saddend. But I have to write the story first. I havent been able to describe what happend since I filed my police report. So maybe I can just get into things here. Seems as good a time as any.

After his arrest in Illinois he wasnt allowed back in the house but we were trying to heal. I was always a big believer in remaining married and that it was forever. Letting go is a hard thing for me because part of me feels guilty. My mom was the one who wouldnt let him move back in. So he moved in with this guy he knew down the street. He even began working for the guy under the table (and he stilled got screwed over). During this time my mom had decided to move to Texas to live with my sister. Being I was pregnant my sister extended the offer to me as well. The only reason I did this was because Ian was still living in his Boss' basement and honestly I didnt know if he would ever be able to take care of us at that point. But our relationship seemed good. We went on dates and spent time together as much as possible. Two months later at the end of May, My mom flew to Texas while I drove with my sister (well she did the driving). The plan was to drive to Texas, unload our belongings at our new rental house, and then my sister and I would drive to California to collect some of our belongings from my dad. When I left Ian and I were on good terms and the plan was he would eventually join me. Somewhere along the line that got skewed (yes I am skipping over the car accident because that has nothing to do with this). I dont even remember what happened to suddenly make us at each others throats again, but I know we were. Unfortuneately I do remember he began to seem uninterested in our child. When I called to tell him the sex of the baby, He sounded like he didnt care. I was barely talking to him by the time I was admitted to the hospital for 2 weeks before our daughter was born. I just know I was mad at him enough to not put his name on the birth certificate and to give our daughter my maiden last name, something he is still angry at me for. But after her birth we made up (again). Around the time she turned 5 months old, He came for a visit. During this time we were once again trying to repair our badly broken relationship and we were on good terms. We were just waiting until after the domestic violence charge was cleared up and he was going to move to Texas permanently and this was just a visit so he could see his daughter. During this time I also got pregnant for a second time with our son. When the trip ended we were ok. 4 months later, I miscarried our son. When I called him to tell him about it, he sounded like he could care less. It didnt seem to affect him. we broke up and then got back together, again. At the end of 2005 he finally moved to Texas permanently. It took him awhile but he found work. A week later, I kicked him out. I will admit my fault for this one. I was hormonal, listening to too many people telling how bad a person he was and emotional because the date our son was supposed to be born on was approaching. It was a cold winter and I was being unreasonably cruel. A few weeks later we made up, again. After that we found a nice little duplex for us. My mom had temporary custody of our daughter so she remained with my mom but I would come see her every day and we'd have her on the weekends. One of my friends would come over every morning after she dropped her kids off at school and we'd have some coffee and talk for a little while. It felt normal. But he began to get moody. My cooking was never good enough, the house was never clean enough. He began demanding I meet him at his job so we could walk back together (he worked just down the street). He grabbed me violently several times. Once I managed to scratch his forearm with the only fingernail that was long. After that I began keeping it long for protection. I wanted to walk away. But I felt so alone and like I had nowhere to go. I was afraid to run back to my mom. She had a way of making me feel like I failed. It was during this time that it happend. February 2,2006. We had been at a Super Bowl party at my mom's neighbors house. He was really really drunk. I had to help him walk home (we lived only a few blocks away). When we got home I put him into bed and was getting ready for bed myself when he started. He was trying to make out with me and I kept pushing him off. When I laid down....well I wont go into the details but that was when he raped me. I dont think I slept at all that night. In the morning, he tried to kiss me and I pulled away. He was confused and I started crying as I told him what happend. He did apologize but the damage was done. When my friend arrived a few minutes later, I was quiet, withdrawn. I rambled off some excuse of having a migraine. After that I didnt leave the house for 2 weeks. Not even to go see our daughter. My mom tried to get me to talk about what was wrong but I wouldnt. Who would believe that a husband raped his wife? We got into a huge blow out fight on February 16,2006. That was the night I packed what I could and walked back to my mom's. I told her the next day and we immediately went to file. They didnt believe me tho. It had been too long and had become a case of he said she said. Since this happend I have made one other attempt to repair my marriage but I believe that the rape completely shattered whatever we had left. Not to say I dont love him. I honestly do. But I have far too many nightmares that I deal with and the memories are far too vivid to forget. I have chosen to forgive him. But I cant forget. I know what I went through isnt nearly as terrifying as what some women go through, but I am a survivor nonetheless. Writing this has made a bit of the burden I walk around with go away. I honestly dont know if it will ever completely go away. But I hold out hope that one day I can fully let it all go and I will find someone who will erase every last horrible this he ever did to me.

I am aware that I stopped at 2006. I am aware that I skipped over alot. I dont find most of what happend between 2006 and 2009 that important. Mostly alot of arguing, false accusations, and finally ending with us being civil with each other.

On a final note....How do you heal a broken heart when the one who broke it is the one who still holds it?