Leaving the Country

The decision to leave my 20 year marriage, taking all our earthly possessions we could pack in an SUV, my rural home with my husband and moving to the city with my two sons was terrifying. The mother of two remaining young boys completley uprooting and leaving the past behind to try to survive and thrive as a single parent with what I perceived as no skills would be a litmus test of my personal strength and ability to adapt.

I can't lie, I was terrified and driving away from that place filled me with panic, but I knew this time was the last of 18 separations and I was never going back. There were no other options. Years of abuse had whittled away my self esteem. I was walking off of a cliff and was trusting God to provide with barely a thread of faith and no way to support us.

I hate the city. The noise, smells and tight quarters, driving in traffic when before no one hardly shares the roads to waiting for red lights, loud horns and road rage would replace what I'd known. Mind you, I wasn't permitted to get a driver's license until I went behind my husband's back at age 30 and my sister had driven all the way out with her little car to help me learn how to drive. I was an unskilled driver at 38.

I had a reservation at a local battered women's shelter for me and my sons. I had $25 to my name, sent by a friend on my AOL writer's list. That was ear marked for the washer in the shelter. This wasn't my first rodeo. We stayed at the same shelter once before for a month and even got an apartment. Eventually my husband found us by driving around Erie tirelessly. He lured us home once more with promises to change. He told me he would be faithful. He didn't keep any of those promises. This time I knew was the final straw and my life was in jeopardy. A month prior my husband had pushed our 16 year old son up against the wall "in the name of discipline. I told him that was abuse, not discipline and he would not do that again to him, and I meant it. Plans were already in place for our escape.

My best friend, Sharon, met me at a local Tops market and, taking one look at my panicked face, insisted that we come to her place 1/2 hour from the city, against her husband's wishes who didn't want to get embroiled in my drama. We went.

By Monday I called the shelter and found my room was now given to another family. We stayed, hiding out from my husband. I was spared for a year from moving to the city of Erie, PA and rented a trailer in another town. I got not one job, but three and worked all three jobs. Seven days a week I worked for low paying jobs, but we got by.

This was the start of our new life, amidst chaos, loss and turmoil. Our story ends well, but the effort and anxiety often crippled me until I gained wisdom and skills. It can be done, but it takes a change of heart and determination to work.

SRC

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