She was late again. The smallest things were starting to set me off these days. Jessica would come home late from working with her patients, not have dinner prepared when promised, and not have my laundry done when I needed it. I cracked open another beer while I paced up and down the kitchen. Our friends would be here any minute to pick us up, to go out to dinner, and to watch a hockey game. Jessica had never been to a hockey game and I was excited to teach her so much about the game I loved. But, her being late was making me extremely anxious and angry. Beer after beer went down easily as I waited impatiently until finally she walked in the door. She started apologizing about being late and how she could not leave a patient in the middle of an appointment. I didn’t care. She was supposed to be here, home, with me getting ready to go out with our friends. I could feel the anger taking over my body, I no longer felt in control of what I began doing…
***
I was speeding as fast as I could. I knew I was late for an evening out with Mike and our friends. This was going to be my first hockey game. Mike was going to teach me the rules to hockey so that I could understand the game and I was genuinely excited. I burst through the kitchen door and tried to explain to Mike why I was late. I work as a Physician’s Assistant and when I am in the middle of an appointment with a patient, it is my job to finish assessing the patient. Mike never understood this. I often think he was suspicious of my duties as a Physician’s Assistant. As soon as I looked into Mike’s eyes I got really frightened. His face was turning red and his whole body started to transform into someone I didn’t know. I could tell he’d been drinking, as I often find him when I come home from work, but this time it was different. He started to yell at me, and at first it was just verbal put downs about being late and caring more about work than our marriage. I protested his comments, trying to show to him that I cared for him and loved him. I explained how it was hard to be his wife, work forty plus hours a week, and do all of the house work. I gently stroked his face and rubbed his back in hopes of calming his temper, but this was no use. Mike began shaking, slapping, and screaming at me all at once. So to my defense, I started screaming back. He was out of control, similar to some of my psychotic patients I see while at work. I tried to escape his physical abuse and bolt out of the kitchen, but he caught a hold of my jacket. My body was flung from appliance to appliance as Mike shoved me around, twisted my arms, and banged my head against things.
These actions were not characteristic of what one would think Mike to be like. Mike had a degree in finance and worked as a banker downtown. He was a smaller built guy and no one could have ever picked him about to be an abuser. I would often come home to find him drunk sitting around doing nothing but pounding down beers. When he drank, he was a new man. I had tried everything to escape the beatings. I tried drinking with him, but then he got pissed when he would see me drinking “his” beer. I tried having dinner prepared and the house clean, but he always found something out of place to throw at me or another reason to kick me. I tried being more sub-missive to him, letting him have the power, but that only lead to further and more extreme beatings when I did not protect myself. Usually after the slapping, punching, and kicking stopped Mike would become aroused. Then, while tears were running down my swollen cheeks my clothes would be ripped off. The sex acts were painful and extremely degrading to me. If I refused, Mike would only rape me.
***
Jess didn’t understand why I was always drinking or angry. Work was stressful and to come home to a messy house and never having her around upset me. I would fill the alone time with beer. It seemed her job was more important than me. That I had no control of our relationship, and I often tried to use her to make me feel better. Taking my anger out on her relieved the stress inside of me. I truly did love Jessica. I don’t understand why my body has done the things it has done to her in the past and I feel as if I am not in control once I am fully engaged in rage.
Earlier in our relationship Jess got pregnant. We were both very happy and couldn’t wait to start a family. But when she was pregnant, was when I became even more violent towards her. At first, I simply would grab her arm and yank her body towards me, or pull her hair. But these actions soon turned into me kicking her down the stairs and punching her in the stomach, which inevitably lead to a miscarriage of the baby. I didn’t mean to kill the baby and wasn’t sure how to go on with the guilt of the situation. My guilt put a strain on our marriage along with Jessica’s sorrow and the distance between us only grew. The less communication we had the angrier I became. We were now trying to find ways to become close again. For example, I was going to show her my love for the game of hockey and teach her about it.
***
People have tried to get me to leave Mike when they saw bruises on my arms or when I had to tell my mother about my miscarriage. I told my mom the miscarriage just happened naturally, as many miscarriages during the first trimester of pregnancy occur, but I think she knew I was lying. All of the abuse and hectic schedule of work all left me in a blank stare, traumatized, almost coma like. I just lived day by day trying to think of new ways to change Mike and change our relationship because I truly did love him and wanted our marriage to work. The “other side” of Mike, the abusive side, came out of no where. It instantly showed up, like simply flipping a switch from off to on.
The last thing I felt as Mike flung me across the room from appliance to appliance was my body crashing into the refrigerator. As I fell to the tile, I could feel someone kicking my stomach, stomping on various body parts, and pushing me across the floor. I lay there motionless, unable to move because I was in so much pain.
When I awoke later I had no idea what time it was and the house was dark. I wasn’t sure what had all happened, and Mike was no where to be found. I could barely move my body I was in so much pain. My eyes could barely open and as I squinted through the slits my eyes had become, I scanned the room for my purse. It was resting on the kitchen table chair just a few feet away. With every ounce of energy I had left and against all of the pain, I reached for the strap to my purse dangling over the edge of the chair. I gave the strap a slight tug and the purse crashed to the floor. I found my cell phone and hit the number four, speed dial to my co-worker at the medical clinic. I told him that I was seriously hurt and to send for an ambulance to my house. I gave no other details and hung up as my body went back to being unconscious.
The next thing I knew, I was lying in a hospital bed. I didn’t know how I got here, what had gone on, or where Mike was. All I knew was what the doctors told me was wrong with me.
***
As Jess slammed into the refrigerator and slumped to the tile floor, I continued to hurt her. I couldn’t stop myself. She was being so sub-missive and not fighting back anymore. She was weak, and this only further enraged me to stomp on her and kick her around trying to get her to fight back. When she showed no movement and was not even trying to escape my foot, I knew I had seriously hurt her. I had no intention of hurting her this badly and to see her lying there motionless on the floor really scared me. I swiped my car keys that were hanging by the kitchen door and sprinted to my car. I didn’t know where I was going to go or what my plans were, but I couldn’t watch her suffer from the pain that I had caused here right now.
***
Supposedly, when my body hit the refrigerator or maybe when he was kicking me in the stomach and back, my kidneys were hurt. I was told by doctors and nurses that I barely had a pulse when I arrived at the hospital and they suspected internal bleeding. I had lots of internal bleeding when they rushed me into surgery and one of my kidneys had to be removed. The other was left in place although it was severely damaged as well, in hopes that they could save it. I didn’t know how this happened or what I was going to do. I didn’t understand how someone as loving as Mike could have done this to me.
As I lie in bed, not sure what to do next, the phone rang throughout my hospital room and flowers began to arrive from Mike, Mike’s friends, and Mike’s family. Everyone was trying to persuade me not to leave Mike, that I should forgive him and that he never meant to hurt me. I do love him and I know he loves me, but was this love worth staying in a relationship this painful? I started to believe that I was not hurt that badly, I didn’t even know how the whole incident happened. Mike claims he didn’t throw me into the refrigerator that he only pushed me. I probably caused most of the damage to myself anyways. I didn’t want to have to give up Mike and he never wanted to hurt me this badly. The whole situation really must have been all an accident.
***
I drove and drove not sure what to do. I called my closest friends and told them how I had hurt Jessica, how I had never meant to hurt her so badly, and how much I loved her. I convinced not only my friends and my family, but Jessica how much I loved her. They were calling her in the hospital as much as I was, every half an hour or so to make sure she was still okay. Jessica couldn’t leave me, she was my life, and I loved her.
It really had been an accident and I promised to her that I could change. I can change my drinking habits, I can help out around the house, anything so that Jess wouldn’t leave me. She seemed weary of my loving actions after the accident the first time I told her how much I cared for her and loved her while she was lying in her hospital bed, but now she seems to be coming around. Remembering how much I care for her and how it had to have all been just an accident.