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The Calm Before the Storm

Every one of my days seemed so wonderful! I had been on top of the world with my acting career and I had a solid plan of moving to California until Mr. Downer (Chris) came into my life. But Now his…

Source: The Calm Before the Storm

I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter! Whoosh.. “I Can’t Believe It’s not Love.”

Tags

abuse, abuser, beaten, blackmail, Domestic Violence, emotional blackmail, escape, survival, survivor, Violence against women

Let’s take a break!
A Non Musical Interlude to My Story.

If you’re old enough to remember the classic commercial I can’t Believe It’s Not Butter, you may get a well-deserved laugh from this. If you’re not familiar with it hopefully you’re in a good place within yourself and can smile along with us.
SCENE1: There is an everyday girl sitting at her kitchen table with a look of loneliness. Seemingly no man is present to validate her worth  nor to give her the security of a relationship. Life is so mundane and full of boredom.  As she looks down at a piece of plain white bread, out of nowhere this fine ass handsome hunk of a man appears in her kitchen on a white horse. His hair and shirt are blowing in the wind. He slows down reaching out to her with upper body strength as massive muscles pop out from his chest. He pulls her onto the horse which he just happens to be riding bare back. She is totally smitten with Mr. Right as they ride off into the sunset.

Scene 2: Ms. Everyday has now become some one’s Princess. Her beautiful Italian silk roman dress, is now blowing in the hot Mediterranean breeze. she is dressed like royalty. He reaches out for her. He walks closer and closer as his hair is blowing in the wind. Here we go with that hair thing again! Lying back on a chaise, silk curtains moving in motion her man feeds her grapes to cool her body down. After fanning her with a branch from a palm tree he disappears just long enough to be missed.

Everything is now in slow motion. He is partly nude; his chest is swollen, his arms so large and strong that you crave to be held by them. His waistline is so perfect. Oh My God! Those thighs, those strong thick thighs. Now this girl (you) is about to go on the ride of her life. I say to that, Girlfriend! Hold on tight! Once he holds you in those arms and wraps those strong thighs around you, all you will be able to do is hold on; you’re finely safe? This Prince reaches out to the would be Princess, walking sideways, showing all of him with his dark look of deceit hidden from her view. All the while she is thinking “love has found me!”  You can see it in her eyes in surrender to his need. He is on a mission to fulfill her desire, but there is a catch. She must take a bite of “I can’t believe it’s not butter”! Farthest from her mind is that dry piece of white bread in her kitchen. Soft music begins to play as she tilts her head back in full and complete surrender. She knows there is no harm and that he would never allow anything to happen to her. After all he has come to her (you) on a white horse, and in her (your) kitchen!

Let us all take a deep breath here. Sigh!!!

 Whoosh! She is right back in the kitchen sitting at the table looking at the same dry piece of white bread.

WONDERING?

What has just happened here? What the hell was that all about? Where did that even come from? In addition, why am I holding a piece of dry bread.

• Well it’s clear: She was having a moment, but abuse only takes a moment to recognize, if you’re willing to come out of the dream.
• Do know that as quick as an action happens, regardless of the degree, it really only takes a moment to recognize it.
• When someone really cares about you, it shows in their actions.
• It has taken so many years of our lives to understand that love is neither an emotion nor a feeling.
  

Just listen to this before you disagree.

• Love will not ask you to sell your body, your mind, or take your spirit and true beliefs. That is an action.
• Love will not mislead you in any way. Another action.
• Love has a very clear understanding of your relationship. That is an action as well.

Why is that? It is because if someone really loves you:

• Love will go the extra mile in a gentle way when you are not clear on something.
• Love does not get angry with you, because you don’t understand a situation at that moment. That is an action.
• Love will not have a hidden agenda: That too is an action.

You really have to feel the difference in the action and stay in that moment. If there is an ounce of feeling in the bottom of your stomach that something is not right, believe it. You have to be willing to save yourself from yourself. No one is going to come to you on a white horse, at least not in your kitchen, and sweep you off your feet to save you. This is the best thing that you can do for yourself. Really listen to that feeling and stay in that moment. Do not ask yourself if this feeling is right. It is your spiritual intuition, your birthright. It is a warning sign which you can use in your everyday survival.

Personally, I have witnessed, and am sad to say, that he/she will go on feeding some other lost soul the artifical substitute of love.  It only takes him/her a moment.

Whoosh… “I Can’t Believe it’s Not Love”

****************************************************************

 

Bitch

“Bitch”

“You don’t know me.”

“You don’t know nothing about me”

“You’re My Bitch! I’ll fuck you up.”

I began to back up from him to  go for a real run. In reflection, I think that if he had chased me, I would have had more running endurance than he would have had. There was no way he would catch up to me.

He never did run after me as I disappeared into my secret place, the gazebo in the woods behind my home that I had never shared with anyone.

Now out of breath, sitting down, I stare at the ducks. They stare back at me, as if they know something was so wrong because I am crying and not feeding them as I usually did.

I cried so hard and long realizing that I had returned to a time in my life of pain, which I had promised  I would never experience again.

Asking myself how did this strong gentle teddy bear of a sweet man turn into such a violent beast, I continued to fall apart and fell deeper into depression.

Had he really called  me  “His Bitch?”

Oh Lord, what have I let happen?  Why would I allow him to talk to me that way?  Now, questioning my self esteem, I must find the strength to take my own power back! But how?  After a couple of hours looking through the woods I noticed he was gone.

I would not see him for many months after that and was proud to say that I was not looking for him.

 However, To Be Continued!
You only find what you are looking for.

 

The Calm Before the Storm

Every one of my days seemed so wonderful!
I had been on top of the world with my acting career and I had a solid plan of moving to California until Mr. Downer (Chris) came into my life. But Now his moods where dramatically changing. After dating for two years or so, it was as if another person had emerged.

He stopped by very early one morning before the sun came up. I was so happy and surprised to see him at that hour. I invited him in and then he said the most unthinkable thing.

That I was too happy in life.

I became dumbfound and throughout the rest of my stories you are going to find out how dumbfounded I remained. What came next just blew me away. He started talking about how the world was against him, that there was no place in society that he fit in, and how people where his number one enemy. My response to that was!

“I am So Sorry! I hope you know I am not your enemy.”

He sounded as if everyone owed him something in life, including me.

That day seemed forever dark, taking me to a strange place which I did not want to visit. I could not wait for him to leave. I was so scattered, feeling so internally ill, that I called into work sick for the day from teaching my fitness classes. It turned into two weeks.

I was not understanding why this man, who had only displayed the most caring and gentle side of himself for so long, seemed to be falling apart at the seams and blaming me and the world.

I avoided his calls and knocks on the door for weeks. I had to rid myself of him somehow and get back to my happy self.

One evening I returned home and there he was sitting on the curb in my driveway with that doofus look on his face, reaching out to hug me, seeming happy and relieved to see me, and then his voice changed making a remark.
“No one dresses like that unless they’ve been out on a date.”
That reminded me immediately why I was avoiding him in the first place. Freezing in time as if my feet where sealed in dried cement blocks, I was unable to move, biting down on my tongue, and glancing over at the entry way of my home gearing up enough strength to tell him:

Yes!

I was out on a date and he will be here soon.
His whole facial expression changed. He was sounding like a little school boy telling me how much he was missing me and asking if he could come in so that we could talk. Unplanting my feet from a self-induced thought, putting myself in a stance of protection, I said to him, “It’s not a good time for me”.
I dashed towards the house feeling as if I were in my own foreign slow motion  movie. My heart was beating so fast. Closing and locking the door behind me, I pressed my back solidly against it and I prayed that he would just go away. I wondered, how in the hell did I fall in love with this evil, mess of a person with a dark demeanor?
I took a deep breath, walked away from the door, crept across the kitchen floor, poured myself a glass of wine and quietly walked up the stairs. It was as if he could hear my every movement from where I had left him standing.
Taking a long hot bath, turning the whirlpool off, relaxing and falling back into the stillness within, I heard him knocking and saying “Baby please let me in.” I turn the whirlpool back on to drown out the background noise hoping he will just go away.
After a while, no longer hearing his knocks and false pleas, I go to bed falling asleep, even as he is now throwing pebbles at my window.

Waking the next morning hearing the birds singing in the trees, and with an unusual cool breeze whispering through, I felt more refreshed then I had in a very long time. There was a sense of great relief which came over me. I knew that I was going to be fine.

Deciding to go for my morning run, crossing the hall into the other bedroom, opening the window nice and wide, inhaling some new fresh air into my lungs and catching the direction of the wind…

“What the Fuck” and “Hell No!”

Choking… There he was… Christopher appearing to be asleep in his car. My heart fell to the floor. I felt trapped in my own home.
Now, with added confusion to the seemingly false structured world which I created overnight, I am trying to figure this moment out and put a plan together for my great escape. Knowing there is truly something wrong with one of us.
It appears that he is in a deep sleep with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. I thought of a plan. I will open the garage door, jump into my car and drive off, but the chances where great that he would hear me. Instead I will run past him acting as if I hadn’t noticed him. DAMN! Wouldn’t you know it, he is calling out my name!
Turning around not wanting any drama and knowing that my neighbors are peeking out of their windows, I ask him how long had he been out there. He said “all night.”
Mr. Downer gets out of his car, starts crying, and saying that every female he falls in love with ends up leaving him. Feeling so bad for this poor broken lost man in his torn up world I feel a need to fix him. So I respond “I’m only going for a run. I’m not leaving you. I need this time to figure things out for myself”.
As he gets back into his car I notice a new dent in the side. I ask him if he is aware of it. His response was. “I don’t give a fuck the car is not mine.” A strange silence took over. I said.

“Well alrighty then. Really!!”

Now let me get this one right.
We have been a couple for two years and this is the only car that I knew you owned because you claimed that. I ask him “Who does this car belong to?” Christopher opens his car door and gets out looking physically larger than just a few moments ago with a white foam drooling from the corners of his mouth as he bites down on his lower lip. His eyes changing, his voice getting even deeper, and he starts yelling at me .

BITCH!

About me

Tags

abuse, abuser, beaten, blackmail, emotional blackmail, escape

My name is Juanita d’Errco
I’m a survivor and recognize my right to be “abuse free” and it is my God-given gift that I breath freely  daily.  I come from a strong family back ground. My father was a doctor and my mother a solid home maker, and living in the style of upper upper-middle class. That however does not mean there was no dysfunction. My Father never beat my mother at least not that I knew of, which leads me to wonder why I even allowed such abuse into my own  personal relationships. Stay with me here. I am not about ” oh woe is me.”

I was a model and I did many parts in movies for television here in Minnesota and over seas and was on a great roll, with offers of moving to L.A to pursue my acting career. I then met Mr. Wonderful who took me down into the depths of his own personal hell. He closed the gates behind me and  I never thought that I could escape.

I want to reach out to those that may be in a relationship that seems to be so paralyzing and who feel there is absolutely no way out except  by dying from the hands of the abuser or taking their own life, as I was that person.

You will find in my blog the many ways of identifying an abuser in many forms. Even if you believe you know all the signs. It seems as the message and the game plan of abusers changes  daily.  It’s as if they have secret  meetings of a change in the game plan. With me it began with emotional blackmail, which I did not recognize for two years and then getting beaten for the next seven years.

I hope to connect with all people from all walks of life no matter of gender or ethnic back ground, knowing that abuse comes  in many  forms and is not colored coded. By my blogging,  I hope to help save a life if not many by reaching out to those people who feel alone and that there is no one out here for them. That is so far from the truth.

Allow  your self to recognize the part that we have played in this trap. Always  keep in mind that “never again” means “never again”.  Has your abuser  made the promise of  killing you and your  family? Do not take this lightly, in many cases you will become the next  person we read about “Killed by”.

Introduction to “Armed and Ready for Sincere Danger”

This book is not just for my new girlfriends that I so desperately need to find before it’s to late. I am hoping to reach out to the boys and men that are being abused as well, by there spouse, lover, father or mother. There is something that we have in common. Our abusers have taught us not to tell. And you thought you where different. Abuse does happen to good people. The “Emotional Blackmail” that comes along with it, is not color coded it does not care. I want you to know that however bad the relationship is. You do not deserve to be hit, kicked, slapped, choked, or beat down like a man.

Everyday in the United States a female or even a child is beaten, maimed or even murdered by someone in their life that they trusted to protect them.

You may not recognize the classic signs of abuse. They can be subtle until they explode in your face because you never saw it coming or, if you did, you didn’t take it seriously for many different reasons. It carries pain, anger and distorted viewpoints of what and how relationships are about.

Unhealthy relationships bring their own baggage, and often that baggage is packed with, manipulation, control, anger, or hatred which are all traits of emotional blackmail.

This book contains profanity, which lends itself to the seriousness of the circumstances, which are much more shocking than the profanity. There is this huge misconception about us. We do not just come from the cities or the country back roads where no one can hear our cries.

We are not only from homes where our parents were drug dealers, meth smokers, crack heads shooting up heroin, pill poppers, nor do we all reside in the projects of a ghetto or the labeled trailer parks. We may not even come from homes where our parents beat us thinking that is normal. We are not prostitutes searching out to be saved or skanks roaming the dark allies for the next trick. We can come from anywhere including the suburbs.

Our abusers can be doctors, lawyers, judges, your local police officers, executives, music moguls , preachers ministers, blue collar workers and even caregivers. And just like you. We are not suppose to tell.

The purpose of this book is to reach out and perhaps provoke some critical and serious thinking. I am not a doctor, counselor, or therapist. I am a survivor. My lessons have come from my own personal life time choices and the school of hard knocks. The last of those knocks left me pleading for the beatings to stop which I believed, he was going to really kill me that time.

A friend of mine asked me, “Would you rather make money from this book, or save a life, Because you will edit it differently?” I did not have an ounce of hesitation answering that question. I would rather save a life. My goal is to send a message to you or maybe there is someone you know who is experiencing or suffering from this paralyzing fear.

This book is about physical abuse and the emotional blackmail that comes before the first hit, the demeaning acts or a words that are said to you which make you wonder and feel worthless even when you know better.

Those negative feelings are manifested in sabotaging behavior that causes many women to fear for their safety, possibly even their life as I did. The one thing that you may not want to believe, and this will hurt you, we have made it our problem by allowing it to continue. You can get away. Help is waiting.

I want you to have a healthy, safe and happy life and a silent secured plan of getting to hell out of there. Therefore you need to be:

“Armed and Ready for Sincere Danger.”

The stories in this book are true accounts of my own experiences.