My Plan

I have been saying I wanted to share my plan with everyone, but please understand that it is unique to my personal situation, so this is not a how-to guide.

There were a lot of people that choreographed this escape that I narrowly made.  

Remember what I shared with you in another post? I was in the basement while he sang a lullaby to my daughter... 

I decided to tell my family. They had no idea about anything, but that is how we hide it, right? By pushing people away and isolating from as many people as possible.   

I knew I had to find a way to spend the weekend with them so I could figure it all out without my children being there; they were so little. 

It was a really hard thing to do, but it was also one of the easiest things I have done to date.  

And, leaving them there with him always made me feel rattled.  

He was SO mad, but by now, he angered so easily that I had to do something anyway. Fearfully, I told him I was going. Without them. And without him. For the weekend...the whole dang thing. I cannot recall how that went...I remember where I was standing. I remember being terrified. I remember that I was gone for the whole time. I remember telling me family. I remember crying and being sweaty as I told them. And I remember being so terrified to what I would be returning to. 

You see, I tried to leave once before. Which I guess could be why it felt easier this time...because I had practice? Like when you’re a smoker (I use this as an example because I used to be a smoker, so I can appreciate some of the similarities), and it takes 18 tries to quit? Maybe that’s part of the process...it takes more than one time to leave. 

When I arrived back from my family’s place, I parked at a nearby place (he actually saw me there, but didn’t tell me for a long time, which was so creepy and scary), and my family drove me to the police station. 

When we arrived there, I shared my story with the police officer who was available, and what I learned bothers me now. For me to get out safely, the officer could have someone escort me to the house and I could grab my belongings, but because he was their father, he could refuse to let me take them, and legally, the officer would not be able to do anything. Especially, because I didn’t have any proof. 

I felt helpless! What was I going to do? It was only a brief passage in time I had to consider this, (but it felt longer than that even) before he was telling me that the other way was to “get my ducks in a row.” 

Now, this is a reference I heard repeatedly for the next several months.  

I had to “get my ducks in a row.” This is such an ambiguous statement. What does that mean, exactly? I had no clue at that point what that entailed (and yes, the connection to “ducks” and “entailed” was not lost on me). 

He told me I would have to contact a family lawyer who would guide me through the process. I was so grateful I found the best (he is now a judge)! 

He explained that I had to go back to the house and live there for another few weeks while he got those ducks in a row for me. I would have to plan for the day that he contacted me and told me it was time to leave.  

And with that, I had to begin packing in secret. I had to find and secure housing in secret (like timing my paycheck with leaving so he didn’t have the opportunity to take everything I made, which was enough for a place of my own). And, I had to live in the constant fear that he would discover what I was doing. He was clever. He could guess every gift he ever got, whether from me or not.  

He said he watched me park in the parking lot. And get out and get into my family’s car.  

He said he knew.  

And that terrified me. I still know that fear today. I felt it for so long. 

And the picture? Well, that was all I could manage to pack to leave. For me and for them. Everything in that picture were my only belongings. Thankfully, when I moved, the house had a bed, couch, and bookshelf I was able to use for a brief time, and my babies were so young. Just 3 and 11-months-old.  

This will be where I leave it for now. But there is more. 

Until next time. 

Try and stay safe. I hope you can. Also, I hope you know, I am thinking about you. 

All my best, 

J.