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Battered Human Beings
I sure wish somebody could explain to the inner workings of the feminine mind. It completely baffles me how otherwise intelligent women fall in love with abusive and dangerous men, and then REFUSE to get out of these relationships!
I have known several women who were or are involved in such situations.
One of these women was very good friend of mine when I lived in Maine. She was a nurse. We’ll call her Krista.
Every once in a while, Krista would show up at my house with a black eye or bruises on her arms or legs. When questioned about these marks, she would tell me that she had fallen down a flight of stairs or something of that ilk.
Once, she had a huge, ugly welt on her bicep. She explained that to me, saying that she had slammed her arm in the car door. When I asked her how in the hell that happened, she went into a long and elaborate story which I had a hard time believing.
It was at that point when I began to slowly but surely come to the realization that my friend was being assaulted by her boyfriend. When I confronted her with my suspicion, she flatly denied it, and then she went a month without seeing me or speaking to me.
Then, one evening, Krista showed up at my doorstep with a cut on her cheek, purple bruises on her forearms, and her left eye was swollen shut.
It was then that she confessed that I guessed correctly, and that her boyfriend, (we’ll call him Dalton), was beating the living hell out her on a regular basis.
Krista told me that she had left Dalton on at least a dozen occasions, but always he would cry and seem to be truly sorry for his actions. He would beg her forgiveness, and he would promise to reform his ways. Then, four or five days later, he would go into another jealous rampage and beat her to a pulp yet again.
When Krista came to my house on that last evening, I brought her inside and insisted that she spend the night. She agreed. We talked until dawn, and I convinced her to let me take her to a shelter for battered women. She agreed to that also.
So, in the morning, she called 911 and got in touch with a shelter.
I drove her to her apartment and stood guard while she packed a suitcase. Then, off to the shelter we went. I, being male, was not allowed inside. So I said good-bye to Krista on the steps of the building. She kissed me, hugged me, and thanked me for being such a good friend. Then, she disappeared into the building…and I never saw her alive again.
When I got back to my house, there was a strange car in my driveway. It was Dalton. As I parked my car next to his, he got out and came running up to me. (Dalton was a BIG man. He towered over me, and, to be perfectly honest with you, he scared the crap out of me.)
He had a crazed look in his eye, and he screamed at the top of his lungs, "Where’s Krista? I know you’ve got her inside this house!"
As I got out of my car, he shoved me so hard that I lost my balance and fell down. He then stood over me and screamed again, "Where’s Krista?!"
I got to my feet, and I saw him rear back to hit me again. Instinctively, I dodged his blow, and then reached up and punched him as hard as I could in his face.
His hands flew to his face, and he staggered backwards. Dalton stood there for a moment, feeling his cheek in disbelief. When he looked at me again, all the rage had left his eyes. He looked like he was about to cry. I took a step towards him, and he backed up, as if he was afraid of me.
(I remember thinking, You fucking coward! You have no problem beating the crap out of petite Krista, but you’re afraid of me just because I'm a man!)
"Where is she?" he asked, this time in a voice that was more of a whine than a roar.
All I said was, "She’s not here."
He spent about five minutes pleading with me to tell him where she was, and I just continued to say that she wasn’t here. Finally, I told him to get off my property or I’d call the police.
When at first he didn’t move, I balled up my fists and took another step in his direction. With that, he turned, jumped in his car, and peeled out of the driveway.
About three weeks later, I got a call from Krista’s mother. Krista was dead.
Seems that, once she got out of the shelter for battered women, she went back to Dalton. After three or four more boxing sessions with the man, she decided to leave him again.
Krista was killed in a car accident. Her car was found in the woods off of a back road. She had failed to negotiate a sharp turn. The police report estimated that her car was traveling at about seventy-five miles an hour when it left the road and smashed into a tree. Krista was thrown through the windshield. She crashed into the tree herself, and was killed instantly.
The police speculated that she was being pursued by another vehicle when the accident occurred.
The story made the national news, in a way. It was in The National Inquirer. The reason that the account of Krista’s death made headlines in that bastion of journalistic excellence was because the mid-Maine town where the incident took place had been featured in the rag before with stories related to UFO sightings. When the "reporter" interviewed Dalton, Dalton suggested that Krista had been driving her car recklessly that night because she was being chased by a UFO. Sure enough, residents in the area, according to the reporter, had seen UFO’s that evening. However, nobody bothered to report those sightings.
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Now it is twenty years later, and I am in the middle of directing a play which has three female roles. As it turns out, all three of the actresses I cast have been the victims of abuse by their male partners. Fortunately, two of these wonderful women had the guts to get out of these toxic relationships. The third girl, I’ll call her Jennifer, has not.
Three weeks ago, Jennifer called me telling me that she would not make rehearsal that evening because her boyfriend had damaged her car, physically threatened her, and he also threatened to burn down her parents’ house while her parents were inside sleeping. (This was not the first incident of this kind. This guy has a history of such behavior. Jennifer had left him four times previously…and she had always gone back.)
Two weeks ago, Jennifer was driving home from rehearsal. She was only about a mile from the theater when her car died. She decided that she was going to call me for assistance, (I had helped her when she had car trouble before), but, when she tried to look up my number on her cell phone contact list, she realized that somebody had erased it!
Her boyfriend, who is an extremely good looking, athletic young man, was jealous of me because Jennifer are friends! (I’m a fifty-five year old man, for God’s sakes! What possible reason could he have for being jealous??!!) So he had deleted my phone number from her phone!
A week ago, Jennifer showed up for rehearsal shaken up, in tears and with bruises on her wrists. When I spoke to her about it, she told me that her boyfriend had gone ballistic again on her.
When I asked her why she stayed with this loser, she stated that she loved him and felt sorry for him. She said that he couldn’t help himself because he was bi-polar. She also said that, most of the time, he was sweet, gentle and loving.
I told her that it would take less than a minute for him to kill her when he was in one of his rages.
I also told her that I loved her like a daughter, and I was deeply concerned about her well-being. She hugged me, cried on my shoulder, and assured me that she had left him for good this time.
I’ll believe it when I see it.
I really don’t understand some people. Why do some men feel that it is perfectly all right to physically and emotionally beat the living hell out of women?
Why do some women stay in such horribly abusive relationships?
I am really frightened for my sweet and wonderful friend. In my opinion, her life is really in grave danger. I get incredibly sad and angry when I think about that. And I feel completely helpless and frustrated because there is absolutely nothing I can do about the situation. The only person who can help Jennifer is Jennifer.
Women need to know that, if they’re in a physically abusive relationship, and their partner doesn’t go for psychological help, the violence will escalate. Simple as that. No matter how much the guy professes sorrow and contrition for his action, things will get worse unless he goes into intensive therapy. And it could very easily end up with someone being murdered. He being sorry for his actions is all well and good.
However, dead is dead is dead IS DEAD!
Trust me on this one.
posted on Nov 11, 2008 10:43 AM ()
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Personally, I think they should be treated like addicts. Continually doing something that is obviously unhealthy is addictive behavior, and she MUST be getting something out of it.
Like I said before, there are very few women that I've known who have been in abusive relationships. But I've HAVE seen them. I've seen a black eye, welts around the wrist. I've seen all the verbally abusive messages erased from a blackberry, I've seen cell phones stolen and cars that suddenly get themselves 'broken down.' SO I know those types of men exist. And while I don't pretend to understand their motivation for being total pricks, I cannot FATHOM the motivation of the women who stay with them.
One of Laura's friends used to be married to a man like this. She is a beautiful, funny, caring woman, and while she was married she was simply not allowed to leave her house. Her husband would disable her car engine to make sure she would never go out. He didn't want other men to see her.
As far as Jennifer goes, I know her. Not well, but enough to know she's not stupid. I am a very smart man, but I still find myself doing stupid things from time to time. Repeatedly. And my self introspective usually leads to the question, "WHY are you so DUMB?!" Asking the mirror.
The only one that can really help her, is her.