"It is in the shelter of each other that the people live." - Irish proverb
There was a time in my life when I was all I had. With two children dependant on me, I remained in a marriage that was physically, emotionally and psychologically abusive for two decades. I had no family to lean on, and most of the people in my life were on the payroll of my then-husband. When I literally made a friend of anyone, my ex husband would figure out a way to sabatoge it. Or just forbid any sort of relationship from forming.
Life is different now. Every day of my life still contains battles of different sorts. Only now, I have an army behind me.
You always hear there is strength in numbers....people pray together, sign petitions together, even mourn together. Right now, this strength is contributing to my survival. I've muddled through - hell, I've lived through! - so much already. A friend just emailed me....that I will find a way to get beyond my most recent obstacle. In the past, I found a way through so many hurdles and complications. I'm hoping I will be able to this time.
Special thanks to my dear friend Nancy Panes for orchestrating a Gofundme to help me through my latest war, which includes my cancer journey.
Looking back over the two decades that were my "marriage", I remember times of difficulties. Many of the control tactics used by then husband Robert Levine were merely an extension of his defective personality. As young boys, my sons bore witness to many hardships and absurdities their father bestowed upon us. Now mind you, we lived with a housekeeping staff in a gorgeous home on Bedford acreage, drove the most luxurious cars (when we were not chauferred), went on the most extravagant of vacations( $1,500 a night 20 years ago was nothing for our hotel), and when "the boss" approved, money was no object. My jewelry and clothes were the best of the best - he picked everything out. But my sons bore witness to much else. When their father would watch every single penny of "his" multi-million dollar fortune, I figured out ways around it. Selfish and unkind, to say the least, he had to have full control over every cent. And the only time he would express the most remote form of generosity, was when he 1. had beaten the crap out of me, 2. needed something, or 3. wanted to make a certain impression.
My sons, Jared and Jason, lived through craziness. Their father would tell them they were not "allowed" to have new sneakers - many times, even when their shoe size changed! I would save up and buy those sneakers for them. Scrimp was more like it. My sons would be ecstatic and terrified at the same time - saying their father would kill me if he found out I bought them new sneakers without permission! I would hide the new sneakers in the trunk of my car until their father was at work or sleeping. Discarding the shoeboxes at the local A & P dumpster, I would take the sneakers and rub some dirt on them until they looked used. Then my sons would feel safe to wear them.
One time, my younger son needed a new bicycle. A neighbor brought it to my attention, after I had already realized this. Jared's knees were hitting the handlebars. At 13 years of age, he still loved his bike, rode it everywhere.....But Robert said he could not have a new one. Too scared to beg his father, we kept quiet until I couldn't take it anymore. Robert would come home with new acquisitions on a weekly, if not daily basis. $200 for each fish for his fish tank, another motorcycle for $80,000....and my son's knees were getting bruised from banging into his handlebars. One day I took the husband’s credit card( yup, I snuck it out), I never had my own credit card….headed to the local Bicycle store - and purchased a new bike for Jared. You know Jared was too scared to ride it when I brought it home? He thought his father would "kill" him - and me, for buying it. Turned out my son's instincts were correct - and Robert returned the bicycle within hours. Just another episode we made it through - lots of banging, screaming, breaking things, and then my punishment - after the kids went to sleep. I woke up with a badly bruised shoulder, and my son did not ride his too small bike again. Sadly, we learned to move on.
I remember how we had a corner on the bathroom counter where we were to leave written requests for monies we needed. Yes, even my sons had to write their requests as soon as they were old enough to do so. I saved some of them - their scribbled requests. Pathetic, huh? Considering we lived in an estate in Bedford and one of our cars was almost $1,000,000 (a 1933 - 1006 Packard Dietrich Convertible Sedan), it wasn't as though money were a problem. Sick. Often times, Robert could be heard boasting that he was the Bank of America...and he'd tell us he had more money than G-d. If I needed money for the drycleaners, there was a written request. If the boys' needed a gift for a friend's birthday party - a written request had to be approved by Robert. Yes, it was a terrible way to live. But I always found ways around it.
Like all those times my sons and I made donations to local charities. We could never tell their father. He would go into rage mode. Another example was when the neighborhood asked me to donate macaroni salad, potato salad, etc. from Robert’s business, Foodirect, for a community picnic (and I didn't even know many of the neighbors after living there for a decade) - my then husband’s blood curdling scream expressed his words, "Someone has to pay for that shit and it isn't going to be me." So, I stockpiled what I had to contribute to the picnic ... and got by.
I managed to live through two decades like that. With many stories, there are many scars. I won't get into my physical punishments for disobeying him, not now. But even after leaving him years ago, I'm still trying to adapt my life to the wills and demands of that abuser. Robert has yet to fulfill our divorce decision settlement from 2006! He used the court system to make money disappear and wear me out. I never collected my half of the Bronx business, Foodirect, or my half of my house at 11 Piping Brook Lane in Bedford, New York.
After seeking a divorce and justice in our broken court system for over 17 years, the post separation abuse left me financially bankrupt.
Some things don't change. He still tries to control things. He destroyed my relationship with my sons through lies and coercive control….as the sons continue to be manipulated by working at Foodirect as adults. I have 4 grandchildren I’m not allowed to meet. But the difference is, I have people who care about me - holding me up. And in the process, I am holding out hope to keep moving forward. One day at a time. Sometimes, from moment to moment.
There really is strength - in numbers.
If you think winning isn’t important, you’ve never had cancer.
https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-julie-levines-healing-journey
No comments:
Post a Comment