Hey there - First I want to say thankyou for taking the time to read this, and I apologize in advance for the length it will be!

These messages were over a year ago, December 19th 2024. Since then the abuse did not only escalate, but began to vary. Please know this is humiliating for me to have to type out, and up until now only my sister knew it all. Before I even get started, if anyone needs verification of the abuse, it can be provided.

Before this abuse began, he caused conflict between me and my family, me and my friends. It was if everyone around me, he was saying were toxic and not good for me, or he didn’t like or he didn’t trust. Before I knew it, I had no one but him. I know I missed a lot of red flags, I take that accountability.

Up until a few months ago, I was alone in this. I reached out to my sister a few months ago, and she began coming over every weekend so I would be safe.

When I reached out to her, she attempted to make a Go Fund Me on my behalf, but due to him living in the home, I could not post any information that would lead to me, without it leading to physical repercussions. When I posted it anonymously, I received a lot of hateful comments, which made me feel like I was wrong for asking for help, so I deleted it.

I came to the realization- I had to save us. I made a game plan, I have a Job lined up on the 21st of July, I was going to save up until September and get a car and then evict him. The home, the bills, everything is in my name and I paid all $2900 monthly 100% alone from 2021 up until this past August, when I lost my job due to my body crashing from the amount of trauma I went through. I’m currently experiencing this same crash experience, except 10x worse.

Other things happened during this time, that I kept to myself. I was choked in front of my kids, my son hung dead weight on his dad’s arm begging him not to kill his mom. I should of ran.

He sold my car after blowing his checks, to pay bills. Isolating me and the kids further. I should of ran.

He stole money from his job, $1600, lost his job. Told me a lie on the reason he was fired. I just recently found this out.

He punched the wall in my kitchen when yelling, I hung a poster my mom gave me over it. Hole is still there, inches from where I was in that moment. I should of ran.

He threw his phone at my head, I dodged it, but it put a hole in my son’s wall. I had just remodeled there rooms by myself. I should of ran.

So many incidents like this occurred.. I found myself crying every single day. I found myself on the floor, covering my ears, begging him not to scream at me, every single day. I was alone, and scared, and I think I genuinely believed things would change eventually. I should have ran.

I was diagnosed with Stockholm syndrome, PTSD, Chronic Anxiety, Depression, and more. My psychiatrist referred a trauma specialist and a PTSD therapist. I lost my insurance, they agreed to still see me if I got proof I no longer had an income. Heade every excuse not to take me to get that paper they needed. I was alone. I should of ran.

I began researching everything the psychiatrist told me, I began to learn when I was being gaslit, when I was being manipulated. I began realizing this wasn’t love, and it never was. That’s when I called my big sister for the first time in 3 years.

I had a plan, I was finding ways to keep his abuse away from the kids visual at this point. I did my best to be silent and every word I said, every step I took was like walking on eggshells while looking for the next landmine. I thought I had it under control, I thought I could take a couple more months of abuse if it meant a not losing my kids home, not putting them through any more instability. I thought I had time to get my ducks in a row.

Then the past three weeks happened, and we had to run. This is humiliating, this is devastating, this is heartbreaking and honestly I’m still trying to convince myself to swallow my pride and type it out.. so please, don’t laugh on my posts, don’t make mean comments, we are trying so hard to heal.

Time to swallow my pride, so this will be short and direct..

In the past few weeks:

He screamed at me in the car from Columbus to Waverly hall. Screaming, cussing, speeding. (That was another form of his abuse, I wrecked into a semi in 2015, and I still have severe anxiety with cars. When he’d get mad he would begin speeding, drifting, riding inches behind the cars in front of us, slamming breaks, speeding on turns.) Me and the kids were all crying, the kids begging him to stop yelling at me. After being yelled at half the way to Columbus and the whole way back, by the time we passed the Pure Gas station, I was breaking down. I said “can you please shut up and stop yelling? You’re scaring the kids, you’re scaring me.” He said “Yeah I’ll shut the f*** up you stupid bi***” and turned the radio in his car up to the point we all covered our ears instantly. I attempted to turn it down, he yelled at me “this is MY f***ing truck, don’t touch my f***ing radio” I said “the music is overstimulating (our sons name) and me, I’m just turning it down because he’s screaming.” As I reached for the volume again, he grabbed my arm and slammed it into my chest, as He said “all yall ever do is f***ing overstimulated me so get the f*** over it”. At this point we’ve made it to waverly hall, and yall know how slow traffic can get out here when cars are turning. When I realized he wasn’t going to stop screaming at me, and that it was really affecting the kids, I remembered my therapist telling me to remove myself from the situation to deescalate. We were going about 8-12 mph, cause a car had just turned left by the fire station. I say “you’re not gonna stop yelling in front of them, I’m gonna walk home, if I’m not here then you have no reason to yell.” I attempted to hop out to walk home (raised in the county, I jumped off golf carts, truck beds etc so this was nothing.) he grabbed my arm, and said “oh you want to jump out the car? Let’s pull up and tell this cop that.” And pulled over to a cop car that was a few feet up the road parked to the right. Before I could even get out the car, he yelled at the cops “I don’t know what to do with this crazy b****, she’s trying to kill herself in front of the kids” HE WAS TRYING TO GET A DOMESTIC VIOLENCE ON ME. I should of been honest, why do women defend men in these situations? The cops knew something was wrong, but I wasn’t brave enough. I think at this point my biggest fear was telling the truth, and him being arrested in front of the kids. So I told the cops I was just overstimulated, I explained I have autism, I explained he was yelling a little but that he was stressed out over finances, I made every excuse in the book for him. The officer tried to get him to slip up on the truth, but their dad began to be rude with the officer so they let us go. I should of told the truth, I should of ran.

Besides the typical abuse of throwing things, yelling etc, the physical calmed down. For a week.

Then Last week, he hit my daughter’s leg. He said he spanked her for an attitude, her leg was red. I consoled her, and once I had her settled in bed I made it clear he was to keep his hands to himself, and that any and all discipline I would handle. (With autism, we don’t spank. I get that everyone has their own opinion, this is what works for my kids.)

The following night, laying in bed, my son called and asked for us to fill up his cup. I went to handle it, he told me he had it and that I could rest, that he knew I hadn’t been feeling well that day. I should have just gone anyways. I hear a smack, and I instantly stand up and loudly say his name as I begin walking that way - before I finish saying his name my daughter screams “mommy help daddy is hitting bubba in the face”. I handled it like a mom, he slept outside like a dog.

The next day he made it clear he paid the bills, that he could call the cops on me for trying to illegally kick him out, he kept complaining about his eye, I kept saying you shouldn’t of touched my kid. I haven’t kept food down since that night, and I’ve had less than 14 hours of sleep since then. I blame myself, because I SHOULD HAVE RAN. I called my sister, she told me to hang in there and when he went to work that Monday we would figure out what to do.

The next day, he offered to take the kids to McDonald’s, he was trying to “make things right” with the kids. Because chicken gets and 15 fries makes up for a handprint on my autistic son’s face, right? At this point I don’t trust him, I’m fighting for a way out, and I’m not letting the kids out of my sight. But he told the kids already he was going to, so if I said they couldn’t he would make me out as the “fun sucker that ruins the family” (a frequent remark made when I wouldn’t allow unsafe activities.) So I said he could, but that I’d go too. I explained calmly I wasn’t comfortable with him being alone with the kids. I was told I needed to quit throwing it in his face, that he already felt bad, that I needed to get the f*** over the past. I didn’t react, I just said, either way, I’ll go too. I was trying everything I could to prevent any further escalation. This is where it gets humiliating, and I’m sorry in advance, it’s also disgusting. The entire ride there and back, me and the kids are insisting something smells like death in his truck. I mean, we are GAGGING. He rolls the windows down, says we are being dramatic, that there’s no smell, that it’s probably ice cream that I failed to clean up the following week from the kids.. I apologize and say I didn’t know he spilled any and that I would of cleaned it had he told me.. on the way back, he asks the kids, not me, if they want to go ride some dirt roads while they eat. Ofcourse, the kids said yes. As we are on the dirt road, my daughter drops her cup and it rolls under her dads seat.. she bends down, picks it up, gags, says “mom” and throws it to me. I catch it and human feces splatters all over my hand. I gag, I look back to make sure she didn’t have any on her, I say please pull over, please pull over, pull the friggin truck over right now before I puke in your precious truck. He pulls over. He says he doesn’t know what it is, he agrees it smells like feces, he says he’s not cleaning it, then he begins to blame my nephews and say my nephews must of crapped in his truck when they went to work the week prior, and that it’s either them or the kids and either way I needed to clean it. He hands me one water bottle. I go over there and try to pull out as much as I can, trying to figure out where exactly it came from. My daughter said it rolled under the seat. I look under the seat and there is an open Walmart bag, full of what we presume is feces under his seat. I pick it up and throw it out, I begin taking everything out that has it on it. I’m throwing up, crying on my knees in the middle of the woods on a dirt road, 20-30 from home and he hasn’t paid my phone bill in over a month so I have no way to call for help. I had to power through, he had my kids watch. My son said “mommy you dont have to do this, I’ll walk home with you.” I said baby we can’t walk home, I don’t have a phone, it’s okay, mommy is okay, I’ve got this baby it’s easy, I change diapers remember? (Forced a giggle for him) just don’t watch baby, I don’t want yall getting sick watching me.” I cleaned more, puked more. I told him “I think I got it all, I can’t stop puking, can you please just check and see and if I missed any can you please help” he said “I’ll look but I don’t know what you expect me to do.” I cried out, “just help me please.” He says it’s all up that I got it all. After a few minutes I stop puking and get in the car, which still reeks. I’m struggling at this point, and I’m looking out my window because I don’t like letting him see me cry, that’s what he wanted. Suddenly my daughter says there’s poop on her foot, I look back and there is. I use my jacket to clean her foot off with the last of the water bottle. I still hadn’t gotten to clean my hands because he wouldn’t help pour the water. I wiped my hands on the jacket too

I asked “can we please go home? She needs a bath, I need a shower, and I can’t handle the smell anymore, please?” He drove around 30 more minutes before he headed home. The following day I sent a recording to my sister about the incident, so she’d have it documented, and she verified neither of her sons did it, although one said he wished he had.

At this point I am asking EVERYONE for help, for advice, for someone to tell me what to do, for someone to tell me how to save us. Everyone said they’d pray, or hang in there, or how sorry they were.. no one offered solutions, but how can you with stuff like this? I was alone, but damnit we were gonna run.

The following day, he brought home a Tupperware with leftover hamburger helper from a week prior, and claimed it was what had been in the Walmart bag, not feces. I looked at the Tupperware, looked at him, and didn’t reply. I knew it was a lie. However, my daughter did not hold her tongue as well. She said “no it’s not. Yesterday the poop was green, that’s orange, you made mommy clean up poop.”

He insists, I tell my daughter it may have been the hamburger helper, to get her to lay off him before he got mad. He acted calm, and after a couple hours he asked the kids while I was in the bathroom, if they wanted to ride dirt roads. I come out to them putting on shoes. He says hey we’re going riding come on. I say I don’t think that’s a good idea, he begins to get mad, I try to explain that I can’t handle any more trauma, my body can’t, that the previous day had really messed me up, that I couldn’t handle anything else. He promised nothing shady, and I knew if I didn’t agree I’d end up getting bruises at home anyways.

So we go, and we get to a dirt road. My brain the entire time is repeating, “he’s going to kill you.” My anxiety is through the roof. He stops the car, right in front of a turn. He says “okay, unbuckle, I’m gonna roll down the window and when I start driving I want you to climb on the roof and try to climb into the drivers window! But wait until I start driving so it’s fun.” Quicker than your jaw just dropped, I said “I am NOT doing that.. I’m sorry, but no.” He said “I’m just trying to have fun with you like back in the good days.” I said, “I’m really sorry, but I never did that before. I’ve never been careless like that with my life, especially as a mom, I don’t know who you’re thinking of, but I’m sorry it’s not me.” He said “oh yeah I forgot you’re not the fun one” and started driving. Soon as we went around the curve, there was a MASSIVE hill. I said, “you wanted me on top of the car while you drove up this ?” In complete shock, though I have no clue why I was shocked. He said “i was trying to have fun with you but f*** it don’t worry about it.” I shut up the rest of the way home.

The next morning he woke up yelling at all of us, I asked him three times to stop yelling. I knew at this point he was getting kicked out asap, I knew at this point I was going to have to choose between our stability and our safety. I knew at this point our home, if we lose it, is replaceable. My children, and their mom, are not. I told him “if you tell one more time, I’m calling the police. You need to get a bag, you need to leave my home.” He began yelling louder, I calmly said “hey siri, call 911.” He instantly began saying “you stupid crazy a** f***ing b*** I’m leaving.” I said okay, I cancelled the call. He got his things, he tried to tell my daughter I was kicking him out and that he’s sorry that her mom doesn’t want us to be a family and that he loved her, she ignored him. My son didn’t even leave his room. Soon as he left, I locked the door and called my sister. No answer. Called my biological dad, he woke her up and she was at my house within an hour picking us up.

Me and the kids are healing, they are eating, and playing, and giggling, and finally sleeping through the night. My daughter had a couple nightmares saying she’s scared her dads gonna come here and hurt us, but her uncles assured her they’ve got us. My son keeps saying he doesn’t understand why his dad hit him, I keep telling him that mommy should have protected him and left sooner, and that will always be my biggest regret. I tell them both how loved, how protected they are now, and I promise them a dozen times a day when they come up worried or scared, that no one will ever hurt the three of us again. I blocked him the day we left on everything, and I’m working with hope harbour on getting everything together for a TPO, while I work on a restraining order on all three of our behalfs.

Now, here is where I need help, urgently. I abandoned my plan, I dont even start my job until 7/21.. I dont even have a car. He knows this, he is now at his dads house and has income: which means he’s going to save every penny, and use my lack of income and car, to try and take the kids. I have enough documentation to prove he’s not safe, I have photos of bruises, I have videos and recordings of the yelling, I covered my basis (like I said, I knew back in march I was planning our escape.)

My sister said I can stay here, and if my power and water and WiFi have to be cut off until I get my first check, that’s fine, but I need to atleast be able to pay my mortgage to prevent eviction, as he was already behind on it by $400, so now I’m $1200 behind. This house will be paid off by October, which would provide me and the kids financial independence and the ability to have more fun and heal as a family of three. I also really need help getting a car, so that I can get them to doctors, school, therapy, grocery stores, etc.

I know this is a lot to ask, I know that I’m reaching out to strangers. I know that I paint blue skies, and covered the grey. I know I took too long to run. But we ran, we are safe.. now Im begging the community not to let us fall flat on our faces..

My mother is in Virginia in the hospital, my father had a heart attack the day after he found out what all I had been going through, he’s hospitalized in Columbus. Today, (well yesterday 6/25, it’s nearly 2 am) I have had three stress induced seizures, my sister is a nurse and she’s been taking amazing care of me. I have thrown up every single thing I have eaten, up until dinner tonight. I was able to keep down some Mac n cheese and baked beans, but it took 2 hours to eat, one noodle, and one bean at a time. I’m told that my body is releasing the trauma it has suppressed over the years. My sister is doing everything she can to help, but with her having 8 kids and a grandchild, finances isn’t something she’s able to help with..

So to anyone that made it this far, I’m so sorry for how awful hearing all of this was.. but thankyou for taking the time to read it, and to understand why this mom is begging for help.

Thankyou in advance to anyone that can help, every single dollar will help get closer to us not losing our home, and to us getting a car. My mortgage will be the first priority.. Thankyou again, I’m sorry I didn’t run sooner, to myself, to my kids, to my community. I’m sorry I’m having to ask strangers for help.