When I was 16 I met a guy, whom I shall call Anthony, at the church that I was attending, and being a teenage girl, I thought he was cute and naturally I was interested. I never had many boyfriends, so I thought I wouldn't have a chance with him. Well, as luck would have it, he had a girlfriend....but we remained friends and we saw each other around over the years and I still had a crush on him. But as years went by, we lost touch and I moved away to another state.... But my life took a different turn when I endured a shattering experience in 1992 , in the ultimate betrayal of a friend and the loss of someone very special to me, taking me back to my home again for a while. During this time, I ran into Anthony and he indicated an interest in me. As the year was drawing to a close I was arranging to go home again for Christmas and New Year's, and I invited him to share my birthday with a few friends....and this is where we began.

The year was 1994, and we had been seeing each other for a while. I had moved back home and he practically lived at my parent's place (LOL) he was there so often. He had taken me to meet his parents and some of his rather large family, and I thought they were all lovely people, and being Italian, they made the yummiest food! We had the best time together and I was happy. I had been interested in him when I was 16 and never thought that we would ever be together. We became engaged in a rather extraordinary way....he didn't really ask me. And before I knew it I was planning my wedding! It was set for the following January, in our summer. I was immersed in floral arrangements, bridesmaid fittings and reception menus when his own parents separated, and from then, the spiral began downward. He became moody and depressed and I consoled him as best I could. Soon, he lost his job and it was a surprise when he blamed me for it. He said that if I didn't keep him at my place "all night" then he wouldn't have fallen asleep at work. But he had been found on a number of occasions to be sleeping in the storeroom - I had nothing to do with it. He became irritable and insisted that it was my fault, and slapped me from my shoulders down to my legs, leaving me bruised and very shocked. I should have heard the warning bells then - but I discarded them as pre-wedding nerves. It was around this time that he became more possessive of me, and I thought that it was out of fear of losing me as his mother had left his father. But I put it all behind me for my "perfect day". The wedding I had only dreamed about with the perfect man. I guess it didn't help that although I loved Anthony, I was still very much in love with another man, who I believed was the love of my life and soulmate, and I had carried that love for the three years into our marriage and beyond. Though I still gave a hundred percent to my husband. We were on our honeymoon when he became "over" possessive of me again, accusing me of "looking at" other men and flirting with them. And his jealousy didn't stop there....it became the subject of most of our arguments and his abuse, and ultimately the breakdown of our marriage. I should say that we both attended pre-marital counselling to better understand one another before we married. My mother later told me that Anthony had confided in her that we needed the pre-marital counselling, because I needed to change.

Anthony, as I was to discover, was someone who wanted to be in control ALL the time. Not just of his life, but of mine too. Soon after our marriage, I found that I had to give up my independence as a person, and stay home where he would know where I was. He didn't want me to work at first, but he didn't really have a job either. He did some work for a guy that lived in our block of townhouses. At least I had the freedom to be myself during this time. But I don't know what was worse...because when he came home he would then accuse me of having "men" over while he was at work. And if the bedspread/doona wasn't taut and straight (but lightly crumpled), then he'd say that he was right and that I was "sleeping" with other men! I was shattered, because I had been brought up better than that - I would never in any circumstance, treat my marriage vows so lightly and do such a thing! I never have and never would "cheat" on someone. And I was hurt that he would think I would. Even in our intimate moments, he would still insist that I had been with another man, and I felt so degraded. One day, when he came home from work, he hit me with a bigger one - during lunchbreak, when his "boss" would leave the yard for a couple of hours, Anthony told me that he "knew for certain" that the boss was coming back to our place to sleep with me. This was the man who lived in the townhouses with ua also. I nearly laughed it was so ridiculous! But I didn't dare. He was adamant, and I was hurt that he thought so little of me.

During the first months of our marriage, he had transformed from the carefree, fun guy that I had known into a possessive, jealous and abusive person. He had started with emotional abuse, which is far more damaging to the soul, and constantly told me that I wasn't good enough. When we met, I was still in my physical developing years, and therefore I was a very slim girl, weighing probably around 49 to 50 kg (108 to 110 pounds) and standing 175 cm (5 ft 9 inches) tall. So, now that I was 23, he constantly informed me that I was "fat" and would end up obese at the rate I was going. That I'd end up as fat as one of my best friends who has struggled with her weight for many years. He even took me to my doctor to get him to tell me that I was overweight....my doctor told him that I was only just in the healthy weight range and any lower and I would be UNDERweight. Anthony wasn't satisfied with that - because now I was having an affair with my doctor!! I was getting tired of the mental and emotional abuse that he dished out, with his ridiculous accusations....and I began to stand up to him! I wasn't sure if that was such a good idea because that was when he took a friendly comment made by my mother and twisted it and threw it back at me saying "you're mum warned me that you were a stubborn bitch!".... It was a no-win situation. We started to get some counselling, though his reasoning was that I still needed to change. It was around this time that he began to get violent with me....

At first, he would just belittle me and accuse me, now these were accompanied by violence. It was like he had lowered my self-confidence and esteem by the emotional abuse before "reinforcing" his authority over me with violence. Now I felt trapped. And I was scared, because he displayed irrational and abnormal behaviour. For example, I could be talking on the phone and he would come up behind me and grab the phone with one hand and put his arm around my throat with the other - for what reason? And one night, after coming home from a counselling session, he began to argue with me about what the counsellors had said....and because I didn't agree with him, he raised his arms and crashed both his hands on either side of my head on my ears (like you would crash a pair of cymbals)! This is the reason today I have lost some hearing, and also affects my short-term memory. The pain was unbearable, I couldn't hear. I was crying and it was about 1am. I grabbed the phone and called my mother......he disconnected the call. How dare I show that side of him? But how could I get help?

And so began the cycle of physical abuse. Once he hit me, it was easier to do it again. I asked him once why? And he took a scripture from the Bible and quoted it "Spare the rod, you spoil the child", and then distorted it....he told me that I was a child who was disobedient, and I needed to be punished! He often quoted scripture, and then turned it around to suit himself....to justify his abuse toward me, or to criticise or "pressure" me. He even told me that God had told him to "discipline" and even kill me for cheating on him. One of his favourites was "it's a sin not to have sex with your husband at least 4 or 5 times a week"! (I was raped in 1992 by my ex-boyfriend, and since then it has affected me deeply in all areas.) After the kind of abuse he dished out to me, that was furtherest thing from my mind!!! And that only made him more determined that I was having "affairs" with other men....though he often accused me that I wasn't just "sleeping" with men, but I was also having a lesbian affair with a very close friend of mine in Melbourne.....it was a no-win situation. More often than not, he just forced me to have sex with him, and I just thought it easier to comply....to make love you have to be in love, and he wasn't the man that I had fallen in love with.

I was always in two minds ~ he had no right to treat me like this, but on the other hand, I did love him and if I just showed him he would begin to treat me with the respect and love that I so wanted, plus the fact I thought I deserved it ~ I didn't think I was worthy of anything better than that. That was another reason why I found it easier to comply with him on most occasions, even though I didn't want to....I always told myself that he would see my love and the sacrifices I'd make for him and he would show me his love again. Sometimes, I truly believed he did....and it was wonderful while it lasted. But it never did. He would always give me a reason to stay by showing me the side of him that I knew and loved, giving me that false sense of security that everything was alright....then he would accuse me again, and I would deny it and so he would hit me....and so the cycle continued....

But he was always careful with where he hit me ~ he never wanted it to show, especially to his family. He would punch me when I denied his jealous accusations about other men and threatened me with boiling water that he was going to throw over me. And his emotional abuse never lessened either. One night, we had his best mate over and we were all doing the dishes after dinner...he was washing as I "never" did them right, his friend was wiping, and I was putting them away. After his friend left, he turned to me and said "I saw you blow 'him' a kiss in the reflection of the window!" If I wasn't so scared of him, it would've been laughable. I denied it, as I always did. I wasn't going to lie. And I ran....he chased after me and belted me for lying.

Just 7 months after our wedding, I packed some of my belongings and told him to drive me to my parent's. I didn't have my licence, and to him that would be one more step toward my independence. So I left. I continued my counselling. During the separation we still saw one another and that was when he broke down and apologised. And I wanted to believe him. It was this time that he confessed to falsely accusing me of sleeping with his boss. He had told me previously that one of our neighbours told him about it....and now he confessed that it never happened. He said that he made it up to "test" me, and he was sorry. Two weeks later, I moved back with him. He displayed the love that he had in the beginning for awhile, and I began to feel comfortable again. I thought to myself that it was the past, and we had our future ahead.

But it didn't take too long for the "true colours" to emerge again. And so my nightmare began again. When he hit me, I was very vocal - I would cry out and hope that someone in our block would help. But....no one wanted to get involved, as I was soon to learn. This was a battle that I had to endure alone.

Although I was scared, I still put up a fight at times. Like the time I was calling for help and he was trying to hang the phone up so I threw the handset back and hit him with it, yanking the phone so hard it came out of the wall! But even that worked against me. His father used to work for the telephone company years before and he called him out to fix it, and that was when he told his father that I had "lost it" and attacked him with the phone. So now a picture was beginning to form with his family about me....His mother, who was studying enrolled Nursing, on the other hand felt that Anthony was suffering from a form of depression, and after being examined by a doctor he was admitted to the Psychiatric ward of the local hospital. I had spoken to the doctor who had seen him, and to my astonishment, he said that Anthony had heard voices that told him to "kill me"! He was in the ward for three weeks, and I visited him every day. He would accuse me of stealing his money from his bank account and demanded that I give him his ATM card, but he was not permitted to have it. After he came home, he would sleep alot, and so began his addiction to Valium. But this didn't stop the violence, though at least I could call the crisis team to come and talk to him. In the New Year we moved away, as I felt his family was a big influence with him, and we needed to be on our own. We had been there for a couple of weeks when we celebrated our 1st wedding anniversary....which was uneventful to say the least. And one of my calls to the crisis team that week after he was abusing me landed him in the Psych. hospital for six weeks. It was this time that he wanted me to get a job, and I worked in the hospital across the street from him. I had gotten my licence the week before Christmas, so I could drive to work. He was diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), though I still didn't see how that made him violent and abusive toward me. He came home after six weeks, and I was now studying and working. Some days he drove me to work and the days I studied, I drove myself. Once he called my Training manager where I studied each Monday, and asked if I had really been there the day before! Not only was there great tension between Anthony and I, but also his father who came to visit and told me that I was the reason for Anthony being in the hospital and I had caused it!! Anthony also said once that God had told him to "look in my handbag", where he found a letter to me from a male friend of mine from Melbourne....he punished me for cheating on him with this guy, although he was in another state! I was very drained at this stage - I felt a hundred years old although I had just turned 24.

Soon Anthony began to disappear during the night. I'd wake up and he'd be gone. I'd call the police to look for him. Anthony was smart - he knew I'd worry, and that was part of his game. Emotional torture. He'd come home and then hit me for driving him away with my "nagging". I began to think to myself "when is this going to end?" I had asked for help from some friends, but they all said that the first year of married life is always the hardest....for better or worse etc. But is THIS what they meant? One night, I was invited to go and see a movie with some of the women from the church I was going to in Newcastle where I lived - they knew my situation and thought I needed "a break". It was wonderful. I had a great relaxing time and we went to a cafe after....but I didn't get home till 1am. Anthony was furious when I came home, and accused me again of being out with a man instead! It was a sad end to a great night....I wasn't allowed to have a good time. This became the most frightful night in my memory....he chased me through the house till he grabbed me. He hit my head like he did previous times, crashing my head between his hands. He then had my arm twisted up my back and pushed me up against the wall, taunting me with words like "was he good?" and other obscene innuendoes. I started to cry out, and with that he threw me on the floor and continued twisting my arm while shoving his hand down my throat to stop me from screaming! I was petrified. I couldn't breathe. His hand was choking me, and I was scared that this was the end. I thought, "is this how I'm going to die?" As a last hope, I began to kick him....I must've hurt him because he released his grip and I ran, jumping in the car and driving away. I was so scared. I couldn't drive the few kilometres to the police station (as was my intention) for I was shaking so much. Instead I drove to a friend's and she called the police, but I was too confused and scared to do anything. I stayed there the night. The next day I drove home and packed my stuff as much as I could fit in the back of the car (a station wagon), and drove the two and a half hours back to my parent's. This was about the 3rd or 4th time that I had left. I had battled with my beliefs that marriage is forever, and I was so confused. Unfortunately, I went back again.... And the abuse stopped for while. Till I settled in. Then two weeks later when I came home sick from work, I found the house a total mess with my study books still on the table and him laying on the couch, watching TV. I asked him if he could tidy up for me while I rested, and he retorted that it was MY mess and I could clean it myself. I saw the change in his behaviour and I grabbed my keys to the car to escape before he hit me again.... But he grabbed me outside and we fought, during which he grabbed my car keys and stabbed me with it! I ran from him to my neighbour's - the first time I had. I was scared. She was kind and consoled me, after which I drove to the doctor and then to the police. This time I filed a report and an Apprehended Violence Order against him. I had nowhere to go. No one would take me in as they "didn't want to get involved", so the police took me to a women's refuge. There I was supposed to feel safe, but I had never felt so lonely before! I cried all night, till I fell asleep. The next day my mum came to meet me, and we went back to my house. Anthony sat down with us at the table and held my hand, apologising. Then he asked me who was the guy I stayed with last night....

It was over. I couldn't take it anymore. The emotional, mental and physical abuse had taken its toll on me. I tried to make it work, but it takes two. He threatened me that if I leave he would kill me. Mum and I packed my stuff, some furniture that we argued over who was keeping, and I left. I didn't go back again. He contested the Apprehended Violence Order, and tried serving me with one - but 4 months after I left him, I was granted that Order to keep him away. He even had his sister call me to tell me that we belonged together and God didn't want us to divorce, and I had a third party restraint added to the Order. He told his family that the main reason we split up was because I was having a lesbian affair with a friend of mine who lived in another state! He sent me a bouquet of my favourite flowers, and continually called my parent's and hanging up. It took me moving to another state to get away. We were married just 15 months. As a result, I had a distorted view of marriage and relationships, even more so than before. And he even managed to destroy the faith I had, not only in myself, but the faith I had grown up with. I now believed that no loving God would let me go through something like this ~ first being raped by a friend, and now an abusive marriage. And when Anthony "misquoted" scripture at me, it only reinforced the warped view I began to have of the church and God. I didn't know what to believe anymore, and I honestly believed that I didn't belong anywhere. Then came the new battle - depression from all the emotional as well as physical abuse. I now believed that I was never good enough, pretty enough or worthy enough - of anything. I was nothing....and he had won. But I fought, and am still fighting....and now I am winning.

You can read my poetry I have written on this experience:

"Volatile Love"
"Why?"
"Nightmares"
"From Brokenness to Happiness"
"Memories"
"Silent Running"
"Veiled Vows"
"Thoughts"