Diary Of A Battered Housewife

By: Tenna Perry

February 13, 1985 Hello Diary! I have never kept a diary of any type before but my friend Joyce thought it would help keep the excitement alive in my marriage if I kept some type of journal. It would let me look back and remember the good times if things get rough. She says all marriages have hard times. I suppose she should know, her mother has been married five times and her father is working on divorce number six.

I can’t believe it; tomorrow Michael and I will be married. My dress is off white satin with hundreds of tiny seed pearls decorating the bodice, sleeves and train. It took eight yards of satin and two weeks to sew the dress; the pearls took almost three months to do. I swear I will never pick up another hand needle again! It came out beautifully though. I hope Michael likes it. He didn’t seem very impressed with the idea of me sewing my own dress. He kept showing me these dresses in magazines that cost big bucks. Can you imagine paying $5,000 for a dress that you are only going to wear ONE time? He says he wants the ceremony to be perfect and that money shouldn't be a worry. My entire outfit, dress, petticoat, shoes and strapless bra cost was less than $150 though. For the first time that I can remember, Mother actually said something I did was, “Nice.” She said she wouldn’t have made the top quite so tight but the dress itself would make a wonderful heirloom for my children. Daddy hasn’t seen it yet. God I hope he stays sober long enough to at least get me down the isle! Well good night diary, the next entry will be by Mrs. Michael Hardwick.

February 15, 1985 I won’t be able to write long diary but did want to put down something about the wedding. It seemed time was dragging by until about three hours before the wedding and then it simply sped by. To top everything off, Daddy got lost on the way to the church and the entire wedding was held up for over an hour. I don’t know about when he called and spoke to Brother Bob, but by the time he got to the church he was at least sober.

Everyone at the church told me how pretty they thought the dress was but I suppose they were all just being nice. I could tell Michael didn’t like it when I met him at the alter and later on he showed me where I hadn’t kept the line of pearling straight. It won’t matter anyway; he accidentally tore it last night when we got to the hotel room so I won’t be handing it down to anyone.

I wish someone had told me how much sex hurts the first time. I never even got the chance to wear the negligee Joyce gave me, Michael wouldn’t let me go into the bathroom to change. As soon as he carried me across the threshold, he wanted to go to bed. When he was done he went to the bar downstairs while I got cleaned up. My new bathing suit is out of the question for the next few days. The marks on my neck and breasts are bad enough but there isn’t any way of hiding my bruises. I never knew you got bruises on the insides of the thighs like this. I certainly never thought I would bleed this much. I’m glad I never told Joyce about what I thought sex would be like, she would have known I was still a virgin and laughed. No wonder all the romance novels leave it to the imagination as to what happens behind closed doors. Boy was my imagination wrong…

February 15 1986 It’s hard to imagine we have only been married one year. Time moves so slowly since Michael convinced me to quit my job. I am sure I will soon adjust to being home all the time but I do miss working with the rehab children. I miss my car too! He is right though, I don’t NEED the car since I am not working anymore and he can always take me shopping.

Last night he took me to dinner at the Italian restaurant we used to go to when we were dating. The music, candles and food were wonderful. I wish I hadn’t ordered the cheesecake afterwards though. I am sure Michael is right, I somehow egged the waiter on and that is why he was so friendly when he brought the dessert. I didn’t realize smiling at him was flirting and I certainly didn’t mean to make Michael feel bad by correcting the order and having the strawberries on top of the cheesecake. He said it humiliated him to have me correct him in front of another man like that. I never looked at it from Michael’s perspective though. I will from now on, I don’t like being corrected myself. I hope my foundation hides the bruises on my arms or I am not going to be able to wear my new blue dress to Joyce’s house tomorrow night. At least no one can see the red strap marks on my butt that the belt left.

February 14 1987 TWO years! Since Michael had to work late tonight I made our anniversary dinner. I had gotten Mrs. Jackson from next door to pick up the things for a salad and I made the lasagna and bread sticks from scratch. I had really hoped Michael wouldn’t be able to tell the salad was made from the pre-cut, pre-packaged salad lettuce but I had missed a couple of the carrot slivers when I made his up. He is right; the least I could do is take the time to make his salads fresh. My laziness ruined the entire dinner for him. I do nothing but clean the house and cook around here while he goes out everyday and works so hard. I wonder who would know how to get meat sauce stains out of a gray carpet? I know aloe will help with the burns where the hot cheese hit my skin and stuck. I wonder where I can find another serving platter like the one Michael broke last night? It was a wedding gift from Mother and she would be sure to miss it if she comes over.

February 15, 1988 So many marriages don’t last three years. Look at Joyce’s father; he is on number eight right now. Can’t write much though, the doctor last night said my hand was broken. I know I should have let the answering machine get the phone last night as we were heading out the door for dinner but I knew Joyce would be calling. She wanted to wish us a happy anniversary. I don’t know how I am going to explain the phone going dead on her last night, the repairman is to come in the morning to replace the wires that Michael yanked out. He told the doctor I tripped on the phone cord last night and that is how I got the cracked jaw and broken hand. How did Jesus stand someone driving a nail thru his hand? All Michael did was put the heal of his foot on my palm and press against it. The cast is a bitch and so is writing left-handed.

February 14, 1989 Oh My GOD Joyce knows! Did she have to start trouble at the restaurant in front of everybody? I tried to tell her the bruise and cut on my forehead was from the bathroom cabinet door but she wouldn’t listen. I thought I was going to die right there at the table when she began yelling at Michael. Some of the names she called him I don’t even know what they mean but he does. Michael is sure I had told her he had shoved me into the cabinet and cut me with the mirror after it broke. I swear diary I didn’t say anything to her but he won’t believe me. He says I can’t see Joyce anymore and she has been my best friend since we were ten. How am I going to tell her I can’t be a friend with her anymore? She is the last person I still keep in contact with. Daddy stopped coming over after he and Michael got into the fight over Daddy’s drinking. Mother says I made my bed and now have to lie in it but she isn’t going to watch. I don’t see how Joyce had the nerve to say those things to Michael though. The funny thing is, Joyce’s husband Jack didn’t seem to mind the scene she was making at all. He looked like he was PROUD of her for doing it.

I don’t know where Michael is right now. We left while Joyce was yelling and he brought me home. I am a nervous wreck right now because I know when he gets home he is going to blame me for not wearing my hair in a way to hide my forehead. I will call Joyce in the morning and let her know it was indeed an accident. I know Michael didn’t mean for me to fall into the cabinet mirror when he slapped me. Of course he wouldn’t have had to punish me if I had only had the bathroom clean. I had forgotten to change the towels after I took my shower so he had to use damp ones. I KNOW better than to do that.

February 16 1990 The last of our nice wedding gifts are now gone. Michael was showing me the blue wax that was still in the cut glass candlestick holder and I never should have told him I would take care of it later. I had only wanted to have a quiet meal at home for our anniversary but I didn’t mean any condemnation when I told him that. I guess my mom was right and my head is pretty hard. The candlestick shattered but all I got was a concussion and spider web looking crack on what the doctor calls the “Occipital bone.”

Mrs. Jackson came over when I got home from the hospital today and brought some fried chicken and potato salad. It was very nice of her but Michael is right, we don’t know anything about the woman and shouldn’t eat any food that she cooks. I double bagged the garbage so hopefully the neighborhood dogs won’t get into the trash although I hate for the food to go to waste, it sure looked good.

February 15, 1991 Joyce came by again today. She had the number for a women’s shelter and a lawyer. I was so afraid Michael was going to come in while she was there. He doesn’t know I have been seeing her again. He doesn’t understand how lonely it gets around here, especially since I lost the baby back in November. I don’t think the doctors believed me when I told them I had tripped on the stairs. It was all I could think of at the time. I wish that had been what had really happened, Michael’s work boots hurt so much more than the tennis shoes. I thought my leg had healed pretty well but Joyce kept harping on how it shouldn’t have been broken to begin with. Sometimes I wonder if she is right and Michael WILL end up breaking my neck someday. I would have liked to have a tiny baby all my own to hold and love. I never thought he would get angry about me being pregnant. Even though he counted my birth control pills and knew I hadn’t missed any he still blamed me for it.

February 20, 1992 Two weeks in the hospital this time. Michael is always talking about how different golf clubs are used for different types of shots. I wonder which type he used on me? Do they make a special one for punishing your wife? My right leg was broken again but this time it was right below the knee. I had a few broken ribs, one had punctured my lung and they gave me medication to get rid of what I thought was a urinary infection but was actually a case of gonorrhea! Michael has been so wonderful to me while I have been in the hospital. He has come everyday and stayed for several hours, brought me flowers and candy. He even sneaked in with take out from our Italian restaurant on our anniversary. The nurses have all given him a cold shoulder and when he is here, they are always popping in the room for some reason every few minutes. When he isn’t here they bring in pamphlets about what they call “Domestic abuse.” The pamphlets talk about what to do, getting out, hot lines to call and places to get help. They talk about victims. Is that what I am? Joyce came by and was saying the same things to me. I thought the nurses were cold to Michael before but it was nothing when compared to how they were after Joyce left. I saw her talking to my nurse and I hate to think what she may have said. It has been so nice here though. Everyone says how bad hospitals are but it seems so quiet to me. I am getting plenty of rest even when Michael comes to visit. I can’t remember the last time I got so much sleep. What is really strange is I haven’t had any of my monster dreams since I have been here. Those dreams have been so scary lately and no matter what I do in the dream, I can’t ever escape or kill the monster.

February 14, 1993 This will be my last entry for you dear Diary. Last night I scorched the rice for Michael’s dinner and am probably going to spend another week in the hospital. I lost three teeth, have a cracked jaw and he broke the orbit bones around my left eye. The eye itself was damaged and I am having difficulty seeing out of it. The doctors don’t know if the nerves in it will ever allow it to respond to light like my other eye does. I thought the differences in my eyesight have been giving me headaches but the doctor said they could also be caused by head trauma. The emergency room doctor asked me how many times have I had injuries to my head and I had to laugh. I really can’t count how many because so many times I don’t remember them afterwards. He went checking in medical records and found my past admission records. I had forgotten we came here when Michael hit me with the candlestick, kicked me down the stairs and that time when he came in with the bat after a bad day playing softball with the team they made up at work. The doctor then got on the phone and tried checking at the other hospitals in town. He also called social services and got Joyce to come and be with me. They probably heard Michael cursing all over the building because the police showed up while the doctor was insisting Michael leave the room. They took pictures of my face, chest, back and even of the bruises he left once again on my thighs. I must say the blood and pain were an ironic end to today, it brought back so many memories of our wedding night eight years ago.

God! Eight years, six broken ribs, a fractured skull, five teeth lost, three cracked vertebrae, two different fractures in my right leg, crushed toes in my left foot and my right hand has been broken so many times I can’t hardly even hold a pencil anymore. No more though.

Mother says I will be excommunicated if I get a divorce and keeps harping on how embarrassing it will be for her but I am through listening to what she says. I don’t plan on trying to get the house when the divorce if finalized, there isn’t a room in it that I haven’t shed some blood in over the years. Joyce and Jack are going to let me stay in the apartment they have over their garage until I get on my feet as far as a job and car goes.

Jack has a good friend who is a lawyer and says that since we live in a community property state, I am entitled to half of what Michael has in his retirement funds, savings accounts and property. I don’t know anything about them because Michael never told me anything about our money situation but Jack says not to worry, his friend will find out everything for me.

Joyce fussed at me today for calling Michael’s job and telling them that he was sick, unable to come in. She said if I was going to call them, I should have told them the truth; that I had filed charges against him for battery. She doesn’t understand that I wasn’t worried about Michael being embarrassed but was too embarrassed myself to tell someone about it. What kind of woman has her husband locked up?

Well Diary, I just heard Joyce’s voice in my head telling me, “The type of woman who has a dirt bag for husband.” I have to keep telling myself that. One of the doctors here checked with Michael’s insurance and even though I am leaving him, I will have complete coverage for three months. After that, I have to pay the premiums myself but Joyce says not to worry, that she will take care of them if I don’t find a job right away. She has put a condition on the help though. She is insisting I take advantage of the insurance coverage for seeing a psychologist. Joyce is a marshmallow though; I know she is just talking when she says she won’t help otherwise.

She thinks I won’t go or will be too scared to talk to anyone but this time she is wrong. I keep thinking of how she stood up to Michael at the restaurant a few years back and how the doctor did the same thing for me last night. I think it is time for me to stop letting others stand up for me and try it myself. The scariest part is that I am going to have to see Michael at the hearing and probably in court when we get our divorce. Joyce says she will be there with me and not to worry or even look at him. When they ask any questions to look at her and answer them completely and honestly. She says to take courage from the good times we will have and not to let my fears of Michael hold me back. Thank you for being with me all these years Diary. You and Joyce are all that have kept me sane.

Farewell…


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