Chapter Four: Jess

Okay so where were we? Grab yourselves a coffee/tea, large slice of cake and let us carry on.

As you can imagine my head’s everywhere and nowhere. Here’s the man I love more than life asking me to marry him. Arghhhhh… runs about quietly but crazily. Of course I said yes. Well, come on! A little thing like: I was still in the same house with my ex and not divorced yet. I mean that’s nothing, right? We text a while back and forth, then we leave. I reread the messages a thousand times. I can’t believe my eyes still. I’m going to marry the man of my dreams.

Weeks pass in a weird wonderful mess-like state. My birthday approaches fast. I decide after the aggression escalated to a point I just couldn’t take it any more. Day and night full-out hell will do that. I was in desperate need of a rest. I had spent most of march hiding away, curled in a ball crying. Those I helped on line (self help page) had even heard the constant barrage, the bullying. I asked my son if I could possibly spend two weeks at his flat. My ex had hated this idea and even as I went out the door with just two bags of clothes he would turn up daily at the flat to make my life hell, following me when I walked. One occasion trying to drag, even force me, in his car. I managed to stand my ground. Don’t know how to this day as I was terrified. I walked home shaking. By the time I got in I couldn’t get warm and just curled up for the night weeping myself to sleep. Jess tried to stay in touch as much as possible. One night while chatting for hours as we did he fell asleep while online. I lay down my phone on my pillow listening to his breathing. I slept deep for the first time in an age. He apologized for falling asleep. I said ‘actually you did me a favour‘ I slept for a couple of hours… unheard of for me. (See, I had trained myself to sleep for twenty minutes to an hour at the most so I could watch out for anything untoward touching me in the night if you get my meaning.) But I had felt safe with Jess there. Yeah, I know… he couldn’t have helped, him also asleep, and on the other side of a screen – a phone, but he was a huge comfort to me.

We took to doing this regular from then on in. I was scared I’d snore (because I snore fit to bust, folks, can’t be helped… it’s a nose and tonsil thing). Jess told me he had already heard it and he thought it endearing. Okkkk! LOL (This guy really is a keeper!) We had a time difference of five hours, so I was sleeping around four or five in the mornings but slept fitfully at least three or more hours. The two weeks nearly up, I decided I couldn’t go back. He would turn up unannounced making what was to be a pleasant time a living nightmare. One time nearly pushing me down the stairs, another trapping me with him in my bedroom. Jess overhead that time and the poor guy was beside himself. Nothing he could do to help me, bless him. That night he talked me into going to the police which I did. That, too, was one very long night. I’m surrounded by police, mainly men, trying to tell them about my life story. This bully I had lived (nay, existed) with for 35 long years. Okay, there was one woman in there but the rest were guys. I was a mess. It took hours to get across (mainly my fault) this life story. I didn’t get home till 12 that night from six that evening. I was mentally and physically exhausted. I lay on my bed near to tears, wanting nothing more than to be held by my man. But Jess listened and soothed the best he could, said I’d done the right thing. I knew he was right. I also had, by now, a Dash support worker… adult abuse case worker… lovely guy who also pushed me to go to the police.

When my husband was arrested my sons didn’t approve. They said their dad was disturbed mentally, maybe I could hold off. They had seen the bruises all down my leg where one night he had battered the door into it repeatedly. It also went into my spine. I still, to this day, have issues with my back. This was just one of the many catalogue of things. Jess begged me to be honest with them, tell them of the other attacks on myself, far worse things that I’d hidden to protect my family. My daughter knew but she and I were exceptionally close. Nothing got past her. But my sons either hadn’t wanted to see or I’d done a better job than I thought of masking this horrendous life I was barely getting through. As things progressed it went to court. He got off with a no contact order (this later he went on to violate. Remind me to tell you of that later.)

You all still there? I know… long long story and I’ve bypassed most. Go get more coffee and snacks, then I’ll start again… interlude for snack getting, bathroom visitation… Groovy music starts.

Oh there you all are. We all cozy under our fleece blankies? Then I’ll begin.

By now I discovered walking. I say discovered, I should say ‘re-discovered‘. See, in my teens, if anything had bothered me I walked for miles. Even later when the kids were young we walked. My children loved going on picnics. We walked to a local beauty spot and picnicked, didn’t go home till late. Here I go again, wandering… So most days I’d set out for this walk… music blasting in my ears. I loved it. For that time I strode out, head high, feeling my muscles working hard, my breathing even controlled, sweat dripping. It all felt good as all that time I didn’t think of court cases, violent exes, where would I live, what would I do, trouble with my family. I thought of nothing, only my love of Jess. I felt free for that hour. When I came back it would still all be there, but for a while I was free. Each day I walked no matter the weather. Each day our problems grew, but so did the love we felt for each other.

To be continued…

Jesse’s Perspective

I had no problem asking Tess to come be with me. I loved her. That she was still in a sham of a marriage did not faze me… her ‘union’ had, for all intents and purposes, died years ago… it just took some time for the body to be found.

Tess was a nervous wreck. I felt so helpless to do anything for her. She contacted her son and made arrangements to stay with him for a while. I was initially relieved as I thought her son would have protected her mom just as I would have my own mother in the same circumstances. Though it was better, her being away from her prison, the son did not believe how bad things were and showed no willingness to keep the ex out of his flat and away from his mom. My concern for Tess’s safety grew daily. I felt somewhat good when she told me that having me on the phone with her, watching me sleep, just hearing me breathe, gave her some serenity. From my perspective, just hearing her on the other end sleeping… snoring (Yes, she snores. But it is not obnoxious in any way. I find it endearing. If I could spend the rest of my life with her snoring at my side I would be a happy man.)… gave me a modicum of peace of mind. The time difference between the US and UK made for some really weird sleeping scenarios but at least she was getting some rest.

Toward the end of her 2-week hiatus at her son’s she was able to get a case worker from DASH, a domestic abuse agency, who was to become instrumental in getting Tess the help she needed to leave the violence and abuse. By this time she had decided that returning to the dungeon where she had been captive for all those years was not an option. For her own safety and welfare she needed to rid herself of the person she was connected to on paper only. The DASH dude urged her to go to the police and file a full report for the assault and harassment.

She did so and spent practically an entire day there trying to impart the Readers’ Digest version of a 35-year-abuse story. She was made to recount all the things that had been done to her over the years, memories which are painful to revisit for the telling. Like most women victims of domestic abuse, her tale of woe was not fully appreciated nor understood by the all-male contingent of cops converting her narrative into a report. It did lead to the guy being arrested at long last. This did not seem to sit well with her two sons. They were fed what was essentially lies from their father which, of course, made HIM out to be the victim. Although they had witnessed the treatment, seen the bruises, the scars… KNEW what their father was, they still did not accept their own mother’s justification for protecting herself from further abuse by any means available to her. This put pressure on Tess… hurt her terribly. Anyone that knows her knows that she does not lie. Ever. If anyone should know this it should be the sons who lived with and witnessed the abuse. Still, they took umbrage to their sperm donor being arrested. I was beyond frustrated. And angry. I sent messages to the son she lived with indicting him for not being a man and protecting his mother. I am never shy about giving my opinion, especially when it comes to women being abused. Eventually her son blocked me, but I think I planted a seed of doubt in his mind because he would turn around and do something to help his mom after I chastised him. I have no idea how this will affect our relationship in the future after his mom and I are married, but, in my view, I said things that needed to be said and I regret nothing. Tess is too self-effacing to adequately get across the outrageousness of her treatment. I loved that woman so much I wanted to protect her from everything… and it frustrated me to be so far away with my hands tied.

The arrest was short-lived. He gave his sob story and professed mental illness and was released with the proviso that he would seek counselling. That was a farce. The situation progressed to a court hearing, at which time he got a mere hand-slap and a restraining order ostensibly keeping him away from her… which he violated with impunity. Neither the cops nor the courts did anything, so Tess was back to being subjected to his abuse and threats of violence. I came to learn that the cops in the small community she lived in were worthless in domestic situations and the courts were no better. Women facing domestic abuse is a problem all over the world, granted, but in the US at least there is a recognition now in MOST communities and women can get the help they need to keep their abusers away. But Tess… the love of my life… was relegated to fighting the world alone. I was there on the phone, certainly, but what could I do if he were to ambush her in some isolated area? My anger boiled and my mindset was hellbent on killing the sonofabitch which caused concern for Tess, Tess’s daughter, my family, my therapist. All were terrified that I was going to go over to the UK and end up in prison for murdering this bully.

Tess and I had long discussions… debates, really… about our differing views on taking care of bullies. I advocate making them suffer the same pain they so freely inflict on others. Tess is more humane and possesses the compassion of a saint. Ultimately, I vowed to her that I would never physically touch him because I never want to look into her eyes and see disappointment in me. Right now they are endless pools of love and I do not want to ever do anything to change that. In addition, my therapist and my cousin extracted a promise from me that I would not assault him VERBALLY. Now the women in my life have tied my hands, so I must let myself be mollified just knowing that I am the better man and that he would most likely run off and hide if I merely took a step toward him. I also have a ace in my pocket; no one has mentioned that I cannot have my CAR physically assault him. I will keep that locked away in case I need it later. LOL

Tess became a walking addict. She told me that, when she was younger, she would walk as therapy whenever anything bothered her. We all have our go-to’s to ward off the effects of depression and anxiety. Hers was to walk miles upon miles. Mine is the eat semi-truckloads of pizza. So… she took up walking again. She would walk MILES every day. One week she logged about 85 miles. I got tired just hearing her tell me about it. The downside was that she often would walk to a park a few miles from the small town she lived in and other out of the way place where there was no cell phone service. This scared the hell out of me. Being connected when she was out was the only thing that kept me sane. Without that connection I always imagined the worst-case scenarios which always involved the ex and violence. Once I contacted the police and they patiently informed me that the area she was in that day was notorious for poor service. I think they were amused. I, however, was on the precipice of a nervous breakdown.

Tess’s walking regimen was having great positive effect on her physical fitness and her health, both mental and physical. Our love grew, she was getting fitter than she had been in a while. There were rays of hope poking through the clouds of her existence… and the end of her life of misery seemed to be getting nearer to our grasp. My love was growing and our relationship was progressing exponentially. Happiness seemed just around the corner.

To be continued…