In early 2008 someone stole my vehicle and torched it. I’ll try to make a long story short. I bought a vehicle for a “friend” who was to make payments and once paid in full transfer the title into their possession. She was making every excuse not to pay, but felt she should continue to use the vehicle. I took the vehicle back. She got her boyfriend drunk and convinced him to steal the vehicle and burn it. The police knew all of this, but still treated me as if I did something wrong. I feel I was discriminated against because I was living in the housing projects at the time. The person responsible did not one day in jail because the police wanted him to be an informant to set-up people who were doing drugs in the projects. The police did not care about the crime committed against me. They were using the circumstances of where the crime occurred to satisfy their own needs.
I met my second abusive husband at a beach while on vacation. It was my first vacation in over ten years. We married five months later. Yes, I know not a very smart move. The abuse began about six weeks after we married. After waking up from a drunken nap, he started a fight because my daughter was playing rap music. He left spending the entire night and the next day, which was the 4th of July, with his ex-girlfriend. I have found with abusers (including my father) holidays are usually spent in misery due to some form of abuse. When I found out he was with his ex, I burnt all his clothes. Still smoldering, I dropped them off in her driveway. They both realized at that time who they were dealing with.
He would physically attack me. Then he would call the police on me. One morning while getting ready for an interview at an attorney’s office, he pick me up by my throat and slammed me up against the bathroom door choking me. The night before I asked him not to go to the bar with his co-workers because he promised to help my daughter with a school project due the next day. Well, she never did get to turn in the project due to him not getting home until after 3 a.m. I was unable to help with the project because it required measuring, sawing, etc. Feeling guilty about not helping my daughter and jealousm I was trying to better myself by going for this job, he started a fight. I fought back. As he was closing the bathroom door to get away from me, I kicked my foot so fast hitting him between the legs dropping him to the floor. I immediately ran out of the house and drove to the interview.
On the way two police vehicles passed me with their light and sirens on. They were on their way to my house. He called the police telling them I attacked him along with kicking him between the legs. The police did nothing and I was never contacted about the incident. I do not know how I managed to get through the interview. The interviewer had no clue I just got into a physical altercation and the police were at my home. It was one of my best interviews I ever had. I think it was because I knew I dropped him to his knees. I was offered the job, but I turned it down because I had to drive a few times a week two hours each day on a dangerous beach road on Hatteras Island to the courthouse to perform deed searches. Many people died on this unsafe road especially when it rained. There was no drainage, so inches of water ended up on the road causing vehicles to hydroplane. I also knew I would be leaving him.
