by Teresa Weimer

Created on: October 23, 2009

Although my memory could use some reshuffling periodically, I recall certain events in my life with excessive clarity. I may forget names, faces and circumstances, but I can't forget the occasions that were highly charged emotionally. I believe the mind tries to help us heal by blocking out some of our more painful memories so we don't keep replaying them over again, but even still, it never seems to shake them all. People that know me say I have a bad memory, but I think it's somewhat selective on my part... and for good reason.

I've always envied the couples lucky enough to have a healthy marriage or those people who married their best friend or soul mate since I wasn't as lucky. I wonder if they appreciate what they have found in each other since many of us covet the same good fortune. While blessed couples lay entwined in hammocks playing footsies, exchanging kisses and consumed in laughter, I on the other hand was trying desperately to find an exit strategy from the hands of my abuser.

My weekends consisted of taking care of two little boys in diapers while my husband went out drinking with his friends. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed the peace and quiet while it lasted, but I also couldn't forget he was coming home. I would grow more uneasy with each hour that past knowing the time was drawing closer to the moment when he would be beating on the door. There were occasions when he only made it as far as the sidewalk, yard or front porch, but most of the time he did manage to find his way inside. When he did, I prayed that he would pass out quickly in order to spare me from his advances and insistence on sex which only made my skin crawl.

I vividly recall the first time he punched me in the face. He got upset when he saw me talking to an old friend from school at a local hang out. During the ride home he started grilling me with questions then began raising his voice. The next thing I recall was my head jerking quickly to the right, followed by a sharp throbbing pain in my left cheek and a slight ringing in my ears. My jaw dropped as I sat there in shock holding the my face staring into space completely speechless as I saw circling stars. After the violence began it continued to escalate. I learned my way around a violent drunk and how to walk on eggshells, but it wasn't always full proof. He would lose his temper when he wasn't drinking too.

I remember certain events better than others, but a rare few still haunt me like the time I found myself staring

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