Thursday, April 19, 2012

...first relationship, with a side of abuse





My first husband was abusive. His name was Tom. He is currently in a Texas prison for armed robbery. 


He and I married in 1984. The abuse started less that 6 months after we married. At Tom's hands I was slapped, shoved, raped, pushed out of a moving car...among other things. 


And about how things were with my first husband, Tom...it was so strange...it was like it was up on me, before I could really run for daylight...I confided in my parents...and my dad even had Tom arrested once...but there was such an emotional draw there...Tom made it seem like I was the only who loved him or believed in him...apparently the Regan household/childhood was a nightmare...and they all just coped better than Tom...it was nothing for Tom's mom, Jan to fist fight those boys into submission...

So, back when things were so horrible I was able to confide a bit in Tom's mom...but I had no clue just how messed up she was and had her own issues, that were not talked about...one incident that speaks of that, was when I left Tom once while we were living in Mobile, back in 1986...I went to live with my parents (even though my step-mother resented it)...that afternoon Tom locked our $500 scottish terrier, Sherman out of our apartment...walked to Circle K...stole a car...drove to a fancy department store, maxed out our credit cards for clothes, shoes and whatever...and started driving for Seattle...he was delusional enough to think that he could contact my mother, who lived there, to get me to come back...my mom would have no more talked to him than the man in the moon, because of how he had treated me...but he didnt ask, he just took off...

By the time he got to Chicago, he was feeling guilty about stealing the car...left most the stuff he had just bought in it...and took off for Seattle on foot...and started calling my parents collect every few hours to let me know of this brilliant plan he had to move us to Seattle...my mom said if he showed up, she would have him arrested...he was hitchhiking...had no winter clothes...no coat...it was a nightmare...somewhere between him being in Chicago and Montana, I had gotten in touch with his mom and given her the real scoop...she still worked for American Airlines back then...she said if Tom could make it to a major airport, she would fly him down to Dallas...only the kicker was I had to go back to him and "tend to my marriage"...as in I had to leave Mobile, Alabama and move to Dallas, Texas to meet him...she would help us get an apartment...and yada, yada, yada...I felt so trapped...I had no clue how messed up Jan was in her own mind, to have even suggested I go go back with Tom, after telling her what all he had already done...I caved...we ended up staying with the aunt in Dallas that had worked for the IRS for a couple of months before he and I could both get jobs...

The very first night I was at the aunt's house...she was wonderful by the way...but she had no clue what Tom was really like...well that first night, Tom closed the door, turned out the light and smacked me so hard that I saw stars and almost passed out...and said "that's for doing all of this and embarrassing me to my mom and family"...

We were in Dallas in our own place for about 6 months before I was able to finally get away from him for good...that was in 1986...(we had just gotten married in 1984)...it was 1988 before the divorce was final...

Part of what created the unhealthy dynamic between me and my step-mother was she is a person that cares about "what people think"...she cared more about that, than about me...so my humiliation over all that happened with Tom, was just embarrassment for her...something she could put down and gossip about, as though she had no skeletons in her closets...

It is weird what dysfunctional families do to their own members for saving face... 

I am not like that with my kids...they have known from day one, if they get into trouble they cannot handle themselves, they are supposed to run home...not feel all alone like I did...it is not that we can solve our kids' problems for them, they have to do the work...but we sure as heck can be supportive and loving, no matter how old they are...but especially if they are being abused...






Can be ordered on Amazon, Powell's and Tate Publishing

(Also being marketed in Internationally in countries like Japan, Sweden, Finland, Germany...!!!)

A portion of the proceeds from novel help support local women's shelters






If you need immediate assistance, dial 911.  The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).


Born to unusual, but nice, parents, Michelle/Shelby grew up rather uneventfully, living mainly in the deep south (Alabama). Later she would learn that it was her parents' love for her that not only brought them together, but had kept them together. And so life was ideal in many respects and distressing in others. Eventually though the family did scatter like leaves on an autumn morning. Fortunately she was able to extract a sincere appreciation for love, beauty, and an abiding respect for those who at least try.



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