It was a call… It was call for help. That I was hoping someone would be able to reach out and help me. But instead, every person took it as another form or way to see me fall on my face and embarrass myself. March 2016, someone did reach out to me. I hadn’t talked to him for a while, but he saw the signs. Him and a few others did, but he actually helped. I was sinking. It was more like drowning. I was drowning in deep sorry for myself. That I put myself and now a child in this position. I posted screen shots of text messages, of how emotionally and mentally abusive this person was to me. Not a single person reached out. No one wanted to be apart of it. No one wanted to have to deal with someone else bull shit.
For 4 years, I was slowly drowning. I called someone to help me one night. I was kicked out of my own home. A home with my name on it. The man sold or damaged every car that I owned under my name. Whatever benefited him. I had no where to go. My sister, denied me because I was empowered by this person. Mentally and emotionally. In March of 2016, I felt myself drowning. I was barely tip toeing on the edge of the sandbar before I knew I would go under. There were nights, I dealt with. Nights that I was thrown like a doll. Nights that I was cursed at and talked down to like a dog. Even as much as the words burden me, I tried numerously to stand my ground. Everyone saw it. But no one wanted to help. No one stood up to help… Instead, this person is your best friend. He is now your God, while you sit there and wonder what happened, even though you already knew.
I remember walking back into his friends house, at 7 months pregnant. After driving half way down the road back home with this so called of a man, belligerently drunk in my passenger seat. When the words slurred out of his mouth, “that’s why you’re a murphy hoe!” “That’s why KT didn’t want to have that baby because he thought it wasn’t his!” Swinging his arms wide enough to hit my stomach. “That’s why all the bitches love me!” As I’m turning the car around, he’s wailing his arms and I’m crying telling him he hit me. I pulled into the driveway of his friends new “bachelor pad”, and I walk in to his “sister” saying, “I don’t know how Nitha handles him. If I were her I would’ve left him a long time ago.” As I’m listening she turns around. “Oh, honey whats wrong?” As I’m telling her, his friends are outside looking for their drunk buddy.
I could hear him slurring his words as he’s coming inside the house. “She’s fucking crazy! I didn’t hit her! That’s my fucking baby!” All these people… so fooled… still so fooled… I’ve spent 20 months.. still fighting for not only my son, but for my life back. Because this so called human being has taken anything that we have to live a life of. Everyone, who I thought would be there to help. Was never there. Not a single soul. I was still drowning even when I left. It was like, being dragged around like a rag doll. Even trying to make a new life for myself, I was still being ripped apart by him. Because of one thing. And that was my son. The amount of love that he knew I had for my son, and he used it against me. The thing is, about this kind of narcissistic abuse. Is that, the court finds it difficult to
be able to over come these circumstances. I was so afraid that I was going to lose my son because of him. That I didn’t jump at every opportunity that I could take to walk away. And because of that, I was left with this. My son is now being tormented, by living in a different home every other week. He can not go to school like a regular child, because his dad refused to allow him to do so.
To him, this is everything he wanted. He wanted to see me drown and watch me drowning. And every moment I was capable of excelling, he would push me right back down just for me to remember that I belonged under the water to him. Because I was accused, of cheating on him. Because I sought to reach for help… If you’re being abused. Mentally, physically, emotionally. Whatever the cause may be. There is an open door somewhere. Do not let society judge you for this. Because they have never stepped foot into your shoes. Your life, is everything to you. Do not be afraid to stand up. Do not be afraid to let someone know. Even if that means to show everything. I
know my story sounds like a hopeless cause, because there are times I still feel that way. Every time I went to the police to tell them and show them, the amount of harassment I was receiving, it was like I was being turned down. But, it will prevail. There is someone out there, that can help you.