I Love You to Death: A Discussion on Intimate Partner Violence

What I have written occurs every day, without fail, in America. IPV is responsible for at least 2 million injuries and 1,300 deaths every year (an average of almost 5476 injuries and almost 4 deaths every day!).* Over 30% of teenage relationships are abusive. At least 44% of women who were murdered by a partner, as Angela was, had at least one visit to the casualty ward/emergency room in the previous year.

Ironically, the two occupations most likely to produce abusers are law enforcement and military. There are many reasons for this (see 'Police Perpetrated Domestic Violence: The Administrator's Challenge' for more on this topic). Celebrities are not exempt from this epidemic, which is why I chose to write this story.

One final note: It does NOT have to be physical to be abuse. For more information, visit the CDC page regarding IPV.

If you or someone you know is being abused, seek help! If you aren't sure where to turn, you may contact me at dobbsm@gmail.com, anonymously if you wish, and I will help you. I have been there; I am a survivor of IPV.

*The actual numbers of victims, injuries, and murders are much higher as most cases of abuse go unreported!

Consider the relationship as written:

Billy obtained Angela's phone number from someone other than her.  While enterprising, this should also be frightening.  Someone who will obtain your phone number without first asking you is not respecting your privacy.

He ignored her when she initially refused to go out with him.  Forget Hollywood’s portrayal of persistence.  It isn’t sweet when a guy keeps asking a woman to go out with him after she has said no.  It disrespects her boundaries and indicates his unwillingness to hear and accept the word no.

He bought her a cell phone so they could keep in touch (or more accurately so she would always be reachable by him).  Perhaps this was truly nothing more than a sweet gesture.  This is the least threatening item on this list, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a warning.  Abusive partners will often do this so that they can always reach their partner.  It’s a form of power and control. 

He wouldn't allow her to remain behind when he went on-location.  She was allowed no freedom; if he left her alone for months when he was out of town, or out of the country, filming, he would start losing control over her.  When other people get to talk to a victim of abuse, chances are that someone will attempt to or successfully convince the victim to leave.

She couldn't answer the phone; he cut her off from her friends and family. 

This is another form of control and power.  It cuts her off from any possible support she might have and also prevents her from saying the wrong thing to someone who might then help her.

He clearly has an anger problem, having punched several holes in the wall.  This is also typical—the abuser will often strike inanimate objects for a period of time before striking his partner. 

His growing more controlling over time, and making rude comments to/about her is once again typical of an abuser.  The abuser’s modus operandi is to hook the victim, and reel them in slowly.  They want the victim to fall in love; this makes the victim more reluctant to leave and less able to see the abuse for what it is.

All of this before he hit her for the first time.  Billy’s reaction after he hit her for the first time is textbook classic.  Whether the blow was truly unintentional or was premeditated, he will be ‘instantly contrite’ so as to make her believe that he is sorry and that it won’t happen again.  Thus begins the ‘honeymoon period’ during which the abuser will be a loving, devoted, caring partner.  He is unlikely to even speak harshly during this period.  The honeymoon period gets shorter and shorter over time, sometimes lasting only a few hours.

Over time the abuse escalates.  It starts with a slap, becomes a punch, then several punches into a full-blown assault.  The longer a victim stays with the abuser, the greater the likelihood s/he will be murdered.  The murder may be intentional or it may be, as in the story, a loss of control where the assault simply goes too far.

I mentioned that I am a survivor of IPV.  What I find frightening is that so are two of my close friends.  That is three out of four people in my immediate social circle.  Let me tell you my story and the story of one of my friends.

My Story:

He was a fireman; I was an EMT.  He was 22; I was 21.  We met on AOL Messenger; our common ground was being first responders.  The first night we talked he was suicidal.  That should've been my first clue.  But, the type of person I am, I had to try to help.  

We continued talking and he drove up from Connecticut one day to see me.  In the beginning he was a sweetheart, always buying me little cards or gifts, telling me he loved me.  I don’t remember when exactly it changed.

I do remember one day I was going to the local Six Flags Park with my mom, brother, and two of his friends (all around 13 years old).  He accused me of going to pick up guys.  I don’t know if he honestly believed that or if it was his response to my being out from under his thumb for a whole day.

If I dressed up when we went out to dinner, I was trying to attract other guys.  If I dressed down I was a slob.  Oh, I couldn’t win.  I dressed to old, my purse was a ‘granny bag,’ I didn’t wear enough makeup, and when I started wearing a bit more, I was wearing too much.  

One day, when I was staying at his home in Connecticut, where he lived with his parents, we were sitting at the dining room table; he made a cutting remark to me, in front of his mother.  I don’t remember now what it was, but I looked at him with barely controlled anger and hurt and asked why he was deliberately trying to embarrass me.  I asked his mom to excuse me and fled to my room.  He stormed in, angry because his mom scolded him over the incident.  Like it was MY fault he couldn’t keep his mouth shut!

He would tell me that his parents said insulting things about me, which MIGHT have been true.  They were bilingual, also speaking Italian, which I don’t speak.  They spoke in Italian quite a lot around me, but I’ll never know what they really said.  He took great pleasure in saying hurtful things.

Another favourite pass-time of his was to IM me from different AOL screen names and pretend to be co-workers from the fire station.  ‘They’ would tell me about close calls he had at fires, or say that he had been injured and was at hospital.  Or he would hit on me and try to catch me in cheating on him.  And through all of this, I stayed true to him.  I know now he cheated on me at least once while we dated.   

No one ever told me that it doesn’t have to be physical to be abuse.  My father told me my relationship wasn’t normal but he never mentioned the a-word.  No one did.  So I took it.  The turning point was one day, again during that trip to Connecticut.

We had had an argument—no surprise there, we argued several times a day, every day, without fail.  He went into his room and started blasting heavy metal.  I went in and told him that I would be in my room with my headphones on.  He said no.  I thought he was forbidding me from listening to my music.  I tried to leave the room, to prevent yet another fight, but he blocked me.  He yelled at me for several minutes, until I tried to push past him.  That was when he hit me.

That was the final straw; I hit him back, head-butted his chest, and fled to my room.  Not a minute later, he came storming in, grabbed my wrists and pinned them to the bed, and started yelling at me; how dare I tell him to put his headphones on in his house!  I told him what I had actually said, and he just said, ‘Oh,’ and left the room.  No apology or anything.

Things changed then.  He grew more distant, until three weeks later, he broke up with me.  I still hadn’t realised he was abusing me, and was heartbroken.  It has, to this day, affected my relationships with men, which is the main reason I am choosing to remain single right now.

The one thing I regret the most about this wasn’t anything I could change.  It was that no one ever used the word abuse in regards to my relationship.  If I was ever in that position, I would speak up.  Five years later, it happened.

My Friend’s Story:

Jen (not her real name, all italicised names are fictional) knew Danny through his wife.  His wife—Donna—went to school with Jen and I.  Danny and Donna had a rocky relationship, although she tried to make it work.  Danny started talking to Jen on Yahoo messenger a lot, telling her how unhappy he was.  

Jen told him he needed to do what made him happy.  So, on April 15^th 2003, Danny left Donna.  He walked out on his wife and daughter without looking back, and Jen took him in.

By this point, Jen and I hadn’t spoken since late 2001, because of some issues I had with her on an unrelated matter.  It appeared to all concerned however that she had deliberately broken up the marriage.  She lost all of her friends, because her friends were people she worked with, in the same store as Donna.  All their co-workers sided with Donna, and finally, Jen quit.

I called Jen in November of 2005 to tell her that my mother, who she loved, was terminally ill with cancer and that I thought Mom might like to see Jen again before she died.  I didn’t think anything further would come of the call, and I certainly didn’t think that she and I would become friends again!

Jen became a tremendous source of support for me, as her mom had died of cancer in September 2001.  She had been through this and knew what to expect.  We continued talking and became friends again, almost as close as we were before, if not closer.

It became clear to me that Danny was abusing Jen mentally and financially.  He made more money, but paid almost nothing out in bills.  She even paid his child support at one point when he fell behind! 

His abuse wasn’t a surprise, as he had abused Donna as well.  Finally, my time had come.  Though I had hoped I’d never have to do it, I was going to follow through on my vow of using the a-word.  

I asked her, point blank, why was she letting him abuse her like this.  I told her, repeatedly, until it sank in, that it doesn’t have to be physical to be abuse.  It has taken several months, but the relationship is over.  Danny is looking for a new place to live, and probably a new victim, and Jen is coming to terms with all that happened. 

The Aftermath:

None of the players in this story will live happily ever after, not for a while any how.  Donna struggles to make ends meet as a single mom, because Danny seldom sees his daughter.  Their daughter wonders why ‘daddy hates her.’  I harbour a deep hatred toward Danny not only for ignoring his daughter (as if that weren’t enough!) but also for hurting not one, but TWO of my friends.  And Jen learnt the hard way that some people truly are evil, and that not everyone has some good inside. 

Funny enough, Donna is the one who coached me on how Jen needed to deal with Danny, since she was the one who knew him best.  She and Jen are even becoming friends, and Jen came to Donna’s house Christmas Eve night for a few hours!

Some people may disagree with what I did.  After all I did deliberately break up a relationship, something that everyone got angry at Jen for!  But I don’t feel bad.  In fact my only regret is that I didn’t do it sooner.

People are reluctant to help other people for various and sundry reasons.  They don’t want to ‘interfere,’ the victim wouldn’t listen anyway, even that the victim deserves it!  But these same people have no problem stepping in to stop another crime that they might witness, perhaps at great or fatal risk to themselves.  All I have to say is this:  Get it through your heads now, folks.  Domestic Violence is not a ‘shame.’  It’s not something to be swept tidily under the rug.  It is a CRIME!