Saturday

In the Ambulance I Couldn't Cry - In Love with an Abuser

The paramedics escorted me out of our two-story apartment complex after six police officers were in the other room with the man I still loved.  Although my arm was burnt from the pain of the iron (get book Laboring to Love an Abusive Mate for details), I still cared about him.  I knew that it was over, it was really over this time.  I took a breath, I felt the rage still boiling on the inside--my whole body was hot.  I moved quick--quicker than I ever had in years, adrenaline rush through my body I felt like I could lift anything.  How does a bright, young lady get herself mixed up with a former convict who still had skeletons in his closet?

I walked with one paramedic along side of me and the other in front.  I was still so angry that I couldn't rejoice over the fact that I came out alive!  I mean I had just been wrestling with a man who weighed over 200 pounds and stood at about six foot.  A mere 5'3" weighing less than a 120 pounds, I climbed up into the ambulance.  I couldn't smile, laugh, and I barely spoke.  "Crazy," I thought to myself.  "So crazy."  It wasn't like I didn't know something bad was going to happen, I had a dream.  I saw my gravestone, but I didn't die.  God's mercy.

What I thought was love looking back was pity.  I believe the emotional connection I had with that man was an illusion.  It was a fantasy I created of what I had hoped he would become.  I was in love with a man called, "Mr. Potential."  My abuser wasn't him, he didn't come close!  But prayer was supposed to help solve that issue.  I prayed silently as the ambulance sped over pot holes.  I sat upright looking around.  "So this is what it's like riding in an ambulance?  I'm glad I'm not lying down,"  I thought.  The paramedic speaking to me was moving lips and I couldn't hear what he (or possibly she) was saying.  Still in some kind of brain fog, I just wanted it all to be over with.  But the drama was just beginning. I had to move.  I called the landlord to tell him what happened and if he could release me from the lease, he did.  "No problem, take care," he said.

A neighbor had called the police.  He was finally going to get his peace.  So there was a residential move ahead for me.  Within hours, in much pain (my arm ached) and with some help, I moved all my things out the residence.  My abuser was in jail and he would be getting out by 11:00 p.m. that night.  A few days later I was due to have surgery on my arm.  I can't recall how many days went by, but it seemed rather quick, I had to show up for a hearing. Months later I would have my day in court and there he was looking at me as if he could kill me.  After that emotional ordeal, there was a grief process. Then domestic violence counselors checking in with me (they had showed up at the hospital prior to and then after my surgery).  I had spent time at home with parents for months.  Within the same year (this happened 1996-97), I was finally to myself.  There was the periodic worry over how would the next man be who would take interest in me.

Are you being abused?

Do you want to ride in an ambulance?  If so, continue messing with that angry man and you will get it!  Hopefully, you will live to tell your story.  And just a friendly warning to those of you who still believe in the romantic dream, an Easter service at a local church is not going to make a difference.  He will have to want to change and it won't happen overnight.  Chances are God has been talking a long time to that hot-tempered man and he has been turning a deaf ear to Him.  Sometimes it takes much for a man to want to change, but depending on how set in his ways he is, he might not ever change!

Focus on you, love yourself, and take care of you!  You matter!  You need Jesus!  Walk with Him and leave your past behind you.  God bless. 

Nicholl McGuire shares spiritual insight on YouTube channel: nmenterprise7.

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God didn't put you with an abusive mate. Your flesh did.

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