Stories: 39 Years

I've been married to Joe for 39 years. For almost all of that time, Joe abused me. In the early years, he would beat me when he got angry, which seemed to be all the time. I had bruises up and down my arms, so I would always wear long-sleeved shirts and dresses. Our three children learned early on not to make Joe mad, or he would beat them, too.

He yelled at us all the time and called us horrible names. He told the kids over and over that they were worthless and lazy. I used to work a long time ago when Joe and I were first married, and when the kids were older and in school, I thought about getting a job again. But he told me I was stupid and that no one would hire me, so why even bother to go out and look?

After we'd been married for 13 years, Joe was in a horrible car accident. He was injured very badly and ended up paralyzed, and I've had to take care of him quite a bit. I have to confess that this accident gave me a little hope--with Joe in a wheelchair and dependent on me, I thought that maybe his abuse would stop.

It didn't, though. Joe still controlled all our finances, and he would give me money to go to the grocery store or whatever, but I always had to bring him the receipt. When he got a little better after the accident, he insisted on coming with me a lot, which was really exhausting, hauling him and the wheelchair in and out of the car. We really needed money because of Joe's injury, but he wouldn't let me work because he wanted me around to take care of him day and night.

He still got angry all the time, too, just like before. At least he couldn't beat us, though, not like he used to. But one night I woke up and there he was, a foot away, sitting in his wheelchair in the dark and staring at me. I thought for sure that he was going to hurt me. After that I was always scared at night.

About a year ago I took Joe to the clinic for his normal appointment. While he was talking to the doctor, the nurse asked me to come into another room and answer some questions. When we got into that room, she said, "You look like you're very afraid of your husband." Then she asked whether Joe was abusive.

I didn't know what to say. I know now that Joe is an abuser, but--this seems so strange to say--the way Joe treated me seemed ... I don't know, normal, I guess. He'd always yelled at us and hit us, and it never really occurred to me that this was wrong. He always made me feel like it was my fault when he got mad, that's for sure.

The nurse gave me a little booklet about domestic violence that I took home. I read the descriptions and the stories, and I thought, "That's me! That's my marriage!"

I wasn't sure what to do. After a month or so I finally decided to call EDVP. I talked to the counselor a long time. She suggested a support group, but I didn't want to do that. So she told me that I could call the crisis line and she gave me some more things to read.

I had to hide the pamphlets from Joe, because he would have gotten so mad if he ever saw it, I don't know what he would have done. I kept the reading things in a high kitchen cupboard and I'd read it when he was taking a nap or watching TV in the den.

One of the things I realized from reading was that I lived my whole life for Joe--even before the accident, I was the dutiful wife, always doing what he wanted. Of course he never cared much about what I wanted to do. Then when he got injured, I was like his nurse and his wife, and we still had children in the house then, so I took care of them too. I can just hardly remember any times when I ever got to do anything that I wanted to do.

So I decided that maybe I would like going to a group. Joe would never let me go to something like that, so I told him that I wanted to go see a counselor at church. That turned out to be the right thing to say, because he's always saying I'm crazy in the head, so it even sounded like I was taking his advice.

At the group I met other women who had abusive husbands or boyfriends, some of them a lot younger than me. It was a real eye-opener to hear them tell their stories and to learn that a lot of the things I'd experienced they'd experienced, too, and that this was just wrong. It was sort of like coming home to a family.

I talked some more to the counselors at EDVP and they helped me come up with a safety plan. For the first time since I got married, I feel like I have someplace to run when I get afraid of Joe.

They told me that a shelter was an option I could go to if I wanted to leave Joe. But he needs me to take care of him, and I can't just abandon him. So the counselors asked me to think about how I might be safe at home. I decided to sleep in my own room so I would feel safer. I also got a cell phone to keep close by at night in case I want to call for help.

I'm not sure what's going to happen in the future. I just know that my long life with Joe is going to change, finally. And for now, I'm just happy to have a place to go to and people to talk to about all these terrible things I've experienced.