This last week has been so intense I wasn’t able to put it in words. I am still dealing and healing after everything that has happen, and I now have to come to terms that this will continue for the next few months. I am still in pain, and shock from the turn of the events so bare with me as I bare my soul to a bunch of people that I dont know.
Last Wednesday my husband was arrested. He decided to expose himself in public after a very violent break down. Now there in that sentence is so many feelings and emotions I cant begin to understand yet. Disgusted, anger, confusion, sadness are just a few. I couldnt wrap my head around something that he has struggled with for years.
His sex addiction is apart of him, and unfortunately has become apart of our marriage. I sat conflicted, between self doubt and loathing, ultimately blaming myself whenever I would find porn on his phone, or a webcam site, or he would finally break and tell me that he either exposed himself out in public or jerked off in the car. My thoughts were instantly guided by my low self esteem; was it because of my lupus? The fact I kept miscarrying? The massive weight gain and moodiness? The fact I was no longer the thin, bubbly girl I once was before I became sick? Was he no longer attracted to me? Was there something I could have done to prevent this?
Panic and fear would always seep into my bones and soul. And the part that made me feel more guilty was the fact I wasnt more concerned about the women he had pretty much attacked. No, I didnt care about their now mental health, if they felt endangered, or scared. How his actions would affect them for life. As a women who was raped and molested my biggest concern was if my husband was either going to leave me by will or by law. Every time the truth came to the surface he always said the same thing. I dont expect you to stick around. I dont expect you to be here when I come home.
I never once in those moments thought about leaving him. Fear would seize me that those words really meant that he didnt want me. That he was looking for a way out and he was trying to beat around the bush as much as possible. Now I know what you are all probably thinking. My husband is a monster. My husband probably deserves to rot in prison.
I agree with you, and then I dont. His actions make me sick; and I mean physically. I have bursted every blood vessel in my face from throwing up so hard. I havent eaten in day and I have lost 10 pounds in the last week. I cannot sleep. And once again my heart is bleeding for him.
I dont and never have really look at my husband as a fully grown adult. After we began to date, and the shine of the new relationship wore off, the skeletons came out. And in all honesty in the last three years they still are. My husband drowned me in tales of his childhood, and I still weep for him. His mother bought men into the home, her boyfriends, or friends that ended up raping my husband from the age of 3. First his own father, then his step father, then her boyfriends after that. And it wasnt just sexual. They would beat him. And his mother, the women who was suppose to love him, protect him, and guide him, turned a blind eye to this abuse, even though he screamed for help.
And to this day he is still screaming for help. Flashing is a self destructive behavior usually a plea for help. And after 5 years of no one knowing or noticing his spiraling behavior, he found me again, and I did. Everything has suddenly been bought to light, and I can attest to the fact it is more hideous then imaginable. I know that most people would say he needs prison time, including a judge, but what he needs is help.
So lets dive in to last week.
Everything was normal. He left for work, told me he loved me, messaged and called me through out the day, and even on his way home told me he was stopping at subway to order me food. It was 10 mins later that he was sobbing on the phone saying he has messed up. My mind instantly went into a place. I told him to come home immediately.
When he got there I was a quiet angry. I asked him to tell me what he had done. He simply said he had jerked off in the car and a women passed him by, saw him, yelled, and said she was calling the cops. I hit him. I am not proud of this. I beat him to the point his back was covered in giant angry red lashes. He had bent over for me, and let me beat him with dog leash. That is how insane this marriage is.
what is worse is that he had been having flashbacks. For the last 3 years, I myself had begun doing therapy with him, talking to him, helping him with his depression. I knew that his flashing and self destructive tendencies were rooted to something so much deeper, but it was blocked. and let me state for the record before I get some angry ass messages on why he didnt “seek help sooner” He has never had insurance. He has had an horrible time keeping a job, cant be around people for very long, and most jobs are not offering insurance at all.
I can already feel the eye rolls and the murmurs of me making excuses for him, but as someone who deals with extreme social anxiety I understand completely. and to break it down some more. The cheapest therapist in our area cost 150 per 60 min session and he would have needed to be seen 2x a week. that a week would have been 300 , a month would have been 1200, and a year would have rounded out to 14,400.00. That is just a therapist. He also needed medication, which lets say would have been 200 a month once again without insurance, 100 a month for xanax. and 1,000.00 (yes you read that right) for a mood stabilizer such as abilify. and we need to add another 150.00 twice a month to see a psychiatrist to write all these prescriptions because a regular doctor wouldn’t. so per month out of pocket we would have been looking at damn near 2,000.00 a month on just his mental health and we were scraping by on just under 30,000 a year until about 7 months ago.
Thats scary to think about isnt it? Someone who has mental health problems, desperately reaching out for help, yet cant qualify for state insurance, cant afford the high cost monthly premiums and deductibles on their own, and cant afford basic health care cost out of pocket? How helpless do you feel? Especially when you’re a man. And lets talk about that for a moment. Men are not talked about when you talk about mental health. You usually always think of a women bawling her eyes out in some corner, or in the commercial a women frowning, or staring out into the distance or from her kitchen watching her children play usually saying along the lines I couldn’t enjoy basic things like I use too. No. No fucking way people. Clinical depression for one is something so deep and some instilled in you that simply summing it up to I’m a little sad today, I cant go out with the girls today is fucking insulting.
Day in and day out I have listened and watched my husband the light of my life repeatedly saying he wants to die. It wasn’t a cry for attention. There were no tears , or anger. He said it and repeated it as if were talking about the weather. He had it all planned, and looked impassively at me, as tears welled up in my eyes, and said he wanted to blow his brains out because that is ultimately what would make him happy and in turn he knew without a doubt everyone would be so much happier with him gone. He looked at himself as if he was some cancerous growth on his family and I. He never believed me when I said I loved him. When I said I would die without him. When I told him how devastated we would be if we lost his light in this dark world. No in his mind I was lying, saying what I thought he wanted to hear.
So back to Wednesday. I had beaten him. It had been a hour. and flashbacks started happening again of his father performing oral sex on him at the age of 3-4, and be raped by his step father at age 6. My 6’1, 231 lb beast of a husband, the man I admired and often looked and ran too for comfort had returned to being 4 years old, was cradled in my arms, his back angry and red, and crying so hard screaming “bad daddy” into my chest as I stroked his neck and kissed his head, and listened to him screaming he was a monster and wanted to die. My heart is breaking all over again and I am pausing to wipe back the tears.
As a man, to sit there and your entire life have a stigma of having a penis means you cant be weak, you cant cry, and if you have a problem suck it up, and internalize it, here he was being reduced back to a toddler. It was raw, it was real, and it was so incredibly fucking horrid. I left. I cant remember why. I had gotten him calm finally, and I think maybe I was going to fetch some food for us. It was honestly a blur. But the moment I walked around the corner to my car there was 3 police cars, blocking me in, and 5 officers got out and started talking to me. It wasnt even really talking I was immediately detained, they tried to take my cell phone, they took my car keys, and tried to stop me from calling my lawyer immediately. I followed them to my front door, where I had to bring my husband outside and remind the officers they are not allowed in my house, where they attempted to separate us.
In that entire time I will admit my MAMA BEAR BEAST MODE came out full fledged. I never realized how much I cared about this broken shell of a man, until I shouted at him, that the lawyer said keep your mouth fucking shut, and the officer threatened to arrest me. I shrugged my shoulders said I didnt fucking care and at one point held my wrist out and made some ludicrous comment of make sure you get my good side for my mugshot. I was lippy, and sarcastic and even though I knew I probably shouldnt have been none of what they were doing seemed legal. Until the end. I watched my husband be put in handcuffs in front of my house and walked away from me. I asked the officer what the fuck he was being charged with and I will never forget the moment I almost threw myself off my own balcony.
Indecent exposure to a minor.
My heart fucking stopped. I felt the pain begin in my chest, a horrible burning sensation and work its way up to my throat. I wanted to scream. But I didnt cry. I walked into my house, sat down and pulled my cell phone out. and I clocked out. I didnt cry. I didnt feel. I called his mother first. The women who had been my arch enemy for the past 3 years was the first person I called. She sounded broken the second the words minor broke from my lips. She said she would call her father and that was the end of that . I called his father, and hilariously the man said that it was sad, and that he wasnt going to help him, and that he needed to rot but to keep him updated. for the next two days I didnt sleep or eat. I didnt know where he was located because the police decided to move him 5 times. I couldnt get a lawyer till the next day because it already past 6. I was helpless and useless. I was told by my more criminally inclined friends not to expect a phone call from him for at least 12 hours. I drove down to the police station and waited. I was given his wallet, and decided to ask the question that could determine how fucked everything was.
I asked the cop who looked at me with such disgust as if I was a criminal as well, how old the girl was an how serious the crime was. Once again the pain started in my chest. He looked at me and simply said, We have video evidence, she was 15 years old, and this is a felony. He’s looking at 10 years. I just said okay and left. Once again no tears.I again didn’t eat, sleep or drink. I called my mom. I was numb. I couldn’t do anything but search the best criminal lawyers, & get a defense for him even though I knew it was pointless. My mom knowing full well how sick I was offered to drive me to the jail and took and decided to take a full day. this women who never really showed me any sign she cared jumped at the opportunity to help me.
she drove me to the jail, where he had finally been moved to. I went online and there was his mugshot. but there was something weird. he wasn’t arrested for indecent exposure. no it claimed it was for a warrant for driving on a suspended license. there it was something in my chest. but wait was it hope? no I thought and pushed that fleeting thought as far back as possible. hope would lead to crying, and I needed to keep that steel rod in place. I sat with my mother, in a disgusting jail waiting room, waiting to see how much bail would be. I had already called a bail bonds man and had the title to my car with me. my mantra whatever it takes repeating in my head. that when my mother tapped me excitedly after 2 & a half hours of waiting we saw on a video monitor my husband.
my heart stopped. he wasn’t in stripes but in his same clothes. he looked okay. he looked alive. like they hadn’t broken him yet. the judge talked him and stated him bail was originally set at 2000.00. once again that annoying feeling of hope. I can pay that I thought. I can bail him out. but of course the moment it looked up was when it back down. in Lew of your charges I am changing your initial charges and adjusting your bail. I didn’t understand I couldn’t hear the number she called out but I swore on anything she had said 1,500. 00. no. I was wrong. the judge decided to charge him with public sexual indecency instead AND a warrant for driving on a suspended license from 2013 & set his bail at 16,000.00.
insane and in love 