As soon as I could, I went to Child Welfare to find out what was going on. They told me the same thing my mother had.

They accused my husband of verbal, physical, and sexual abuse. I was charged with neglect because I didn't leave him. I told them I wasn't aware of the alcohol, cigarettes, and I didn't believe there had been any sexual abuse.

They made it clear that staying while he abused ME was neglecting THEM. I couldn't understand any of it. Why was I being punished for something he was doing? I couldn't have my kids back until my husband and I took the proper steps. Counseling and parenting classes.

I cried, I screamed, I told them they were wrong for doing this to me and my kids. They wouldn't budge. I didn't mind having to get counseling and going to parenting classes, but deep down I think I knew it was something my husband wouldn't do even though I hoped that he would. He said he would go through the steps but he didn't feel like he had done anything wrong.

At the time, I didn't realize just how sick it was for him to think that way or how sick I was to stay with a man who thought that way. Giving children alcohol and cigarettes? But, I continued to hope that it could all be worked out, we would get the kids back and be a family again.

After several months I came to realize that my husband had no intentions of taking any steps in the right direction. He continued to lie to me and abuse me. A social worker finally confessed to me that even if he did take the steps, Child Welfare would still not give me back my children. I made the decision right then to get a divorce.

I called my preacher (who happened to be my mother in law's preacher) to get some advice on how to proceed and to let him know how afraid I was of telling my husband I was leaving him. I explained to my preacher that I was scared my husband would become angry and hurt me, and that I planned to move out while he was at work. Preacher decided that would be unfair to my mother in law. He let her know what I was planning. Maybe if I had been able to pay a bigger tithe than my mother in law he would've considered my safety to be important.

As it turns out, I was unable to sneak away. I'm just not that type. I decided to face him with my decision. I did take the precaution of having his mother and our preacher there when I told him (this was before I knew the preacher had betrayed my trust). There were tears, and anger. When I explained to my husband that I had to divorce him in order to get my kids back, he was angry but not necessarily with me. After the others left we came up with a plan.

We would get the divorce, he would go into counseling, and once we both finished the steps, we would work on putting our marriage back together. Seems like a good idea right? Wrong. Once again, more lies.

He helped me move out. We went to a lawyer and started divorce proceedings. I enrolled in college and about a month later I went before the judge with my divorce decree and the information that I was now a college student and asked for my children back. The judge gave my back my children.

My ex husband and I continued to see each other but not in the presence of the kids. We would meet somewhere, or he would come to the house after the kids had gone to sleep. It worked out fine for a while. He told me that he had gone to a counselor and had been told that he didn't need counseling. I knew he was lying. But I continued to see him for a while because he was being nice and I still thought we had a chance to work it all out.

After a few weeks it started all over again. He started showing up either drunk or drugged at all hours. He seemed to forget that he couldn't be around the kids. I would lose them again. He was paying my rent and felt like he should be able to come and go as he pleased. Well, yes, in a normal situation. He began to play head games with me and terrorize me. He broke into my house twice, the second time breaking in a window. He cut himself while breaking in. I could hear him and I gathered up the kids and hid with them in one room. Then I thought, 'OK, he has a pistol. Do I really want him finding me in the same room with the kids?'

I went to the kitchen where he'd broke the window and faced him. I told him he couldn't be there and maybe we should just call it quits for good. He didn't like that. We struggled from the kitchen into the living room, into the hallway and back into the kitchen. Twice during the struggle I kneed him in the balls. He grabbed me up with my arms pinned and my feet off the floor. I butted him in the nose with my forehead and heard a crack. To this day I believe I broke his nose. I hope I did.

After I broke his nose he threw me and I landed against the kitchen stove gashing my arm and breaking one of my fingers. He kicked me in my thigh. It was dark and I was feeling around for a weapon, a knife, an iron skillet, I didn't care, just something to defend myself with. At any time I expected him to pull out his pistol and shoot me.

He went out the door, and I thought he was going for his rifle. I locked the door and I ran to get mine. I turned out all the lights and watched him from a window. When he got in his truck and started it, I ran to my car with my rifle and the kids. I thought he was leaving and that it was finally over. I was going to the police and then to my mother's house. No such luck.

The house I lived in sat on 40 acres with no neighbors. The yard was fenced. He pulled his truck to the gate and blocked it so that we couldn't escape. My kids and I sat trapped in the car for two hours while he pleaded and begged for me to forgive him. I had the windows rolled up and the doors locked. At one point he tried to pull my window out (it was a very old car) and I had to point my gun at him to make him stop.

When he figured out that he would have to risk being shot to get to me, he finally got in his truck and left. But not before flattening one of my tires. I changed the tire with my broke finger and went to the hospital.

The staff at the hospital called the police for me and a report was filed. The chief of police of my home town took pictures of the damage done to me in case they were needed as evidence at trial. They were never needed and I still have them.

A few months later, Kevin Wilson pled no contest to the charges and I was told he got probation and that it would be on his record. I had moved on with my life by that time so it was good enough for me.

*UPDATE*
I have since graduated from SOSU in Durant and have my B.A. in Psychology. I now work for a youth and family services agency, have taken one semester of graduate courses, but can't make up my mind if I want a Master's degree bad enough to jump through more hoops. The main thing is I'm safe and reasonably happy, my kids are safe, healthy, and appear to be happy, and my life is better than I expected it to be considering my past.



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