Enaila's Diary

[Enaila]

Darn it...now I am flashing. I walk in the door after a tough day at work. I am in my third trimester with my first child and just moving has been exhausting. I walk in and put my keys on the kitchen counter. The sound of a gun clicking as a bullet is closed in the chamber has me turning around quickly. I look and my husband is sitting emotionless on the couch. He sits stiffly upright with a 30 aught 6 rifle in his hands, finger on the trigger, and point of rifle in his mouth. The butt of the rifle rests on the floor. I start to plead with him not to kill himself. He doesn't respond. I start to shake and then start having contractions. Sliding against the wall I slip to the floor holding my stomach. He sits motionless.....I know the gun is ready to fire. I crawl toward him begging him to reconsider. He hears something and takes the gun out of his mouth. I shove the gun away from both of us, which catches him off guard, and thankfully makes the rifle drop without firing. He picks up the rifle, looks at me, and takes off out of the house. I start crying at this point and continue to have contractions.

I don't remember more at this time.

 

[Enaila]

Flashback: The dog is barking once again and wakes my husband up. It is his dog he wanted, but the dog does not receive enough attention. I am pregnant with my second child and ask my husband if he will check on the dog as I need to get ready for work. (The neighbor has also threatened to call animal control if the dog continues barking.) My husband says some choice words to me and stomps outside. After he comes back in I start to feel sick to my stomach. He goes back to bed and I go out to find out why the dog is so quiet. A big two by four is laying beside the dog in the kennel. The dog is quivering and trying to whimper, but can not because his snout is wrapped tightly with silver duct tape. I move toward the dog to help her, but my husband yells at me, saying it is my fault for complaining, and if I know what is good for me, I will leave the tape on. He picks up the two by four. I back up and head into the house, take my toddler to the sitter, then to work where I tell them I need to check on something at home before school starts. I know my husband will should have headed for work by then.

I get home to find the abuser had left and I carefully unwrap the tape. It is hot out and the dog is starting to get overheated from not being able to pant. I get the dog some fresh water and make sure she is as comfortable in the kennel as can be. She had a dog house. I didn't know what more I could do. I know from previous experience the police won't help me.

I return to work. After work I go home and know he won't be home until 2:30 a.m. or so as he "works late hours." Which translates to hangs out in bars or at friends drinking. I sleep lightly staying on guard.

 

[Enaila]

I survived another surgery, but had the antiseptic smell start to trigger a memory which caused tears to start. Before I could tap into the memory triggered, my supportive friend moved me to where the nurse was directing.

My cousin said she is keeping super busy today so she can make it through the day. It is the anniversary of the death of my uncle.

I wasnt going to go to Colorado before my uncle died. I had seen him a couple months before and wanted to remember him that way. He had been holding onto life though he was in so much pain. The doctors had told the family it could be any day and they were taking turns staying at the hospital with him.

It was a restless feeling I started to have which turned into a driving feeling I couldn't resist. I looked at my son and said we needed to make the 800 mile drive and leave the next morning. The following morning we got up early and drove all day, arriving at our destination late the same evening. My cousin was glad we had come. The next day my cousins were having a birthday party for my little cousin and then I could head to the hospital.

My son and I had our piece of cake and then I told him we need to go to the hospital now. He drove us there and we made it to our uncle's room. He was running a high fever, but the room felt empty. I told him I was there as did my son. Holding his hand, I kissed his forehead. My aunt walked in the room and started talking with us.

I knew when he left us completely. I didn't have to look to know, but glanced to see if my son had noticed. My son was 22, but I had done what I could to prepare him. I nodded to my son and sent him to get the nurse while calmly letting my aunt know he had passed. She said he often breathes shallowly. The nurse quietly came in and used her stethoscope. When she left and came back with another person who listened and agreed, my aunt finally realized I had told her the truth. My uncle was finally free of his painful life.

My aunt was in shock. I drove her home after helping box up items to go home. I was so worried about my cousin who had been called into work. I know she wanted to be there when the time came. I felt guilty for being there, but I firmly believe things happen for a reason.

My son and I stayed for the rest of the week. We babysat the babies, grocery shopped, and cooked for the family coming in and out. We kept busy, so my aunt and cousins could take care of funeral arrangements. We had to leave immediately after the funeral. We had done what we could.

 

[Enaila]

I am feeling quite irritated. Some people can be so rude. I don't know why I expect people to change. My mom invited me over to supper as family, who matters to her, was in town. I show up at required time to find no one home. I ring the doorbell and call her repeatedly, but there is no answer. I start to get overheated in the extreme heat, so sit in the car and try calling again. Giving up, I head home, hungry, angry, lonely, and tired. My hand is also hurting.

I got home and made a sandwich. My mother finally returns my call and said she had to run my cousin to the bank. Well, sure would have been nice to have let me know.

It bothers me she spends months planning things to do and meals for my cousins, brother, uncles, aunts, etc. but rarely includes me. I always feel like a mistake or burden to her. I start trusting her and trying to open up and it feels like a slap in the face.

 

[Enaila]

I finally was able to get back to cycling class and had invited a friend who had never tried it. About two thirds through the class, the instructor suggested we go walk the track for a cool down. The instructor knows both of us and I know she could see my friend struggling, but I was doing okay. I wish I knew if she asked me to leave so I could walk with my friend or thought I couldn't handle the last part of class or knew I was maybe overdoing the workout with my hand healing. Whatever the reason, I felt rejected and hurt. My mind tells me this wasn't her intent as she was excited we were there, but my heart won't listen.

 

[Enaila]

There are two officers at the door to my classroom who say they need for me to go in for questioning. My heart drops and fear creeps in. Why are they here? I don't remember doing anything illegal. (Wasn't a habit of mine anyway.) I ask, but they say I will know once questioning is done down at the police station.

I had stepped slightly outside my classroom door and a squeal from one of my students draws our attention to the classroom. I tell the officers if they can wait an hour as there is not anyone to cover my severe multi-handicapped classroom, I will drive to the station after school.

They agree they will trust me to come. I'm full of trepidation for the rest of the school day. My assistant doesn't meet my eye and neither of my assistance ask a question. What do they know that I do not?

After work I go to the station and am down to small room where an officer waits to question me.

To be continued as my meds are working and struggling to stay awake.

 

[Deleted member 12723]

:hug::hug::hug:

 

[Enaila]

Memory and one of my major flashbacks:

Silly me thought that police officers would treat me as innocent until proven guilty...I mean, that is what they say is supposed to happen right? Well, as soon as I arrive at the police station after work, I am taken into a small room with an officer. The officer starts off by asking me if I work at the church's parish center. Yes, I do. I am the custodian once a week and go in on weekends after the religious education classes and sweep, mop, clean classrooms, clean toilets, etc. as my paycheck hasn't been enough to make ends meet. "Do you have a key to the parish center?" Yes. I am afraid now as the questions are being asked in a rude curt manner and I still don't know what the issue is. The officer than tells me something has been stolen from the parish center and I am a suspect. WHAT?!!!! ME? I felt guilty walking off with a pen after signing something at the pizza place and even took the pen back and apologizes and I'M being accused of stealing something?

The officer tells me a person said I had made a comment to her during church and that led her to in turn tell her husband who reported it to the police. I know I have a look of what the heck are you talking about on my face. I look at him and have no idea of what to say as I have no idea of what he is talking about. The officer gives me more information and asks, "Did you make a comment to Z----along the lines of 'I wouldn't put it past my husband doing something like stealing the meat slicer from the parish center.'" Awwww....now I finally know what he is talking about and I have to admit I did say that.

The parish bulletin had for weeks been posting that an industrial meat slicer had been taken from the basement of the parish center and would whoever borrowed it please return it. My friend, who also happened to be my work assistant, asked who in the world would steal an industrial meat slicer as those things are heavy and why would someone want it? I had, for whatever reason replied, "I wouldn't put it past my husband." I guess I was mad at him or maybe I just had a lot of suspicions about his activities or something else. The words surprised even me. This comment would put into motion events which frightened me, but I realized later were literally an answer to a nightly prayer I had been making, "God, please give me some help in understanding what to do....is it okay to leave my husband? He is abusive and I need help. I don't want to break my vow of marriage, but I don't know what to do and I need your help." I mean, I made the prayer and the help comes from church friends and involves a theft from the church.

After admitting I had said such a thing to my church friend, the officer asked if the keys had ever been out of my possession. I said I didn't think so, but the officer asked about a specific time frame and where I was at the time. It was only three weeks ago and I then remembered I had been very sick with the flu. So sick, I couldn't work and had stayed home. My husband had offered to go clean the parish center for me as there was no way I could do it as I was sick in bed. I don't remember if I told him yes, or if he just took the keys. Either way, that is when the item had been stolen. When realization hit me, I felt more afraid. I didn't remember giving him the keys and I shared about being sick. Was I going to have to go to jail as I let the keys out of my sight? I mean, they were hanging up in MY house. I didn't give them to anyone. The officer said he wasn't arresting me as long as I went directly home and asked my husband to go in to speak to him. I asked the officer if they would arrest my husband if he was the one that stole the slicer. The officer said yes. I said that was good as if he had stolen it, I didn't want him home.

I left shaking and by the time I arrived home, ANGER had settled in. I went into the house and confronted my husband. I told him the police officers asked he stop by the station as they had something to talk to him about. I told him if he didn't drive over there then they would come to him. I did not tell him what it was in relation to. I don't remember much else said to him right now. He left. I prayed he would go to the station as requested.

My husband returned home about an hour later. I was really bewildered as they had told me if they found out it was him, then they would arrest him. Maybe my suspicions were wrong. Maybe it wasn't him.

.........................................................................................

I am jolted awake at 2 a.m. by hard pounding on the door. "This is the police! OPEN up!" I am afraid. What is going on? Are they here to arrest me? I didn't do anything! I make it to the door and open up. I am so afraid. Two officers stand angrily at my door and ask me, "Where is HE? Where is your husband?" I tell him I'm not sure as I realize my husband had not come to bed. I say he might be downstairs as he sometimes slept down there (he had told me it was cooler in the basement, but I wasn't going down there as I had two babies upstairs.) I went to the top of the steps and shakily yelled for my H. He was there and came stumbling up the steps complaining, "What's your problem now?"

I told him there were two officers here to see him. He could see them by this time and walked toward them when they told him to get his shoes on. The officers arrested him and left.

******Break time from the entry.....need to ground********

 

[Deleted member 12723]

Geeze girl, I am so sorry that you got tangled up in your husbands theft and treated badly. You are innocent and did not do anything wrong and I believe that you do have to get rid of your husband and this is a way out for you.

I understand the confusion and bewilderment and feeling of betrayal among so many other thoughts and feelings.:hug:

 

[Enaila]

@gizmo I'm sorry my entries can be confusing. Sometimes when I am writing, I slip into the flashback and then my verb tenses change. This event happened 18 years ago, but it still seems like it just happened because of the flashbacks and nightmares. I am a survivor. I left my marriage and raised two loving boys, now men, on my own. By the way, I just asked my 23 year old if he knew why I had divorced his dad and he said no. I asked how come he never asked me and he shrugged. I shared some basics with him about his dad's illnesses and keeping him safe when he was little. I also told him a little more about what PTSD is.

Thank you for your support. I really appreciate it. Hugs back at ya....I still am not good at the emoticons yet.

 

[Deleted member 12723]

@Enaila I am still sorry that this has happened to you and I think you could be very proud of yourself for overcoming so much and raising your children on your own. I am proud of you.:hug:

 

[Enaila]

Continuation of last two entries:

The police arrested my H and I don't remember them telling me anything....they just left.

The next day I believe I contacted the