I was overwhelmed by this amazing sense of freedom and not knowing quite what to do with it. I could see my children expanding as people without my husband's control over them.
The same thing was happening to me. We missed out on some very good years of our lives. It was a waste of life.
I felt very guilty the first night I went to the Refuge. I didn't even tell him I was going. I left a very dramatic note on the kitchen table. I felt that perhaps I should have said something to him; I was running away, being a coward. Those feelings lasted approximately three days, till we were tracked down and we lived in constant fear for 48 hours, locked away in a tiny flat. I then thought, well, how silly to feel guilty. It was not me that was dong the battering. My kids and I had done nothing to provoke the attacks.
For years I was constantly abused mentally. The beatings were irregular, unpredictable. I was bashed in the head, breasts, shoulders. He pulled chunks of my hair out. He would pull me from the bed if I was asleep (or pretending to be) and beat my head against the bed head when he came home late. I was given very little money to keep the house and was usually beaten whenever the bills came in. My children were also assaulted and it was only when I talked to my daughters about leaving that I was told of the sexual abuse. He said he would kill them if they told.
I don't feel bitter and angry towards all men. I have since remarried and my daughters and I are now very happy; something I had begun to think would never be possible again.