VERBAL ABUSE

Verbal Abuse by Victoria Adams

In my case, it started as verbal abuse. I went from being the prettiest girl to a no-good. He began to change when we decided to be a thang. He then felt what he says goes. He didn’t want anyone in the house.

I thought he loved me that much that he was protective.

About 6 months later, I found out he was doing crack.

I started to see more aggression, on the edge or it stood out more that I knew he was on drugs. I didn’t want it to define him. One evening, I took a shower. He came home and said, “You took a shower? You’ve been messing with someone? Is someone in here?” He was used to showering with me; the thought of me taking one by myself hit a nerve. He asked me to sit down as he pulled out a pocket knife, put it on my foot and said, “I will put this knife straight through your foot. I’m asking you one more time, ‘WHO HAS BEEN IN HERE!!!.’”

Things were still the same; I just now knew he had a temper and paranoid. We were staying with each other; he had clothes over and things, but sometimes he would be gone for days. I soon realized he had a woman before me. He stayed with her and drove her car. That’s why he goes for days. I would still see him in the neighborhood or at card games and he will speak to me as if everything was okay. At a time, I stepped back somewhat, stopped talking and being home when he would try to come over. We made up and he committed to just me. It became expen-

happy without upsetting him. He started taking my money, going through my purse even when I said no. One night, he was out getting high; I and my son were sleeping. He came in, woke me up. “What’s wrong?” I said. “I need you to do something for me,” He replied. He asked me to give his dealer head like I give him. I was hurt, shocked. He had to be crazy; he then pulled the gun out, “YOU ARE GOING TO DO THIS OR I WILL SHOOT YOU.” My mind was everywhere, I was scared. So,

I did it.

I was so embarrassed I didn’t want to be there when he came back. I couldn’t face him or the guy. I went to my grandmother’s. I did tell my cousin; she was the only one to know the whole story, but it got out but not in a positive way. I was tricked for crack. I stopped talking to him for about a month. Apologies after apologies came. He explained to me he needed help, wanted me to be there to support him, for the drugs. I believed him; he stopped for about two weeks. It was a happy two weeks, nothing but cuddles, movies and long conversations.

I thought he was changing, until one night. It was like 8pm, I was cooking, he came in high and paranoid. He THOUGHT he heard something, that I was hiding someone in the house. I tried to make him feel secure, that I loved him and he didn’t have to worry about no one else. He could swear I was lying. He screamed, “HOE, YOU ARE LYING.” He pulled his fist back and punched me in my eye so hard I bled. He told me that this invisible person he created didn’t care for me because he didn’t even come out to defend me. I stayed in the house for some days; I couldn’t let anyone see me that bruised. I was wondering, he took care of me those days, but I questioned his love in my head.

That wasn’t the last before I decided that it was time to leave him and Alabama. I did finally have enough, and I moved to Atlanta. The day he found out my plan was the very day I was leaving. I survived him, but I was almost blinded if not for the two surgeries I had in my right eye. I also was blessed with his daughter who is nothing like him; she’s seven now. I’m blessed to survive and tell my story in Scars of Survival Magazine. If you are undergoing abuse and you are reading my story, change the situation, reach out and ask for help.