The knock at the door…


By the time my youngest daughter was one years old, I lost count of the amount of violence I had been through.  Although life was different to living with Eric, the principles were the same whilst living with D.

Eric was a gambler,

D was an Alcoholic,  I sure picked these men.

I hated the smell of alcohol, I hated sex, I hated any kind of physical contact, after all sex was just to make babies.  By the time my youngest baby was one I had lost all form of feelings for another adult human being.  I felt my heart turning into stone.  I loved my babies, I think I loved my babies, I knew I would die for them.  But,  was this love?.


I thought of my father. I always did when I was afraid. My father loved me, because he treated me nice, he would hug me, he cared for me, and he kiss me and protect me. He would chase me and play with me.  Happy memories indeed.   If this was love then this is what I showed my babies. But, my father was gone. There was nothing more to learn from him.   He left me.   I wanted him back so badly, the ache in my chest would never go away.  As I write this tears fill my eyes as I remember what I lost.

I looked after my children because it was my duty. I felt incapable of protecting myself and tried everything to keep the peace. I lived a robotic life controlled by the events in my life.

But, I was never hungry, and my children were well fed. That’s all that mattered I guess.

However, things would become even worse starting from this day…

Jeremiah 29 : 11-15.  For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future 

I didn’t know that scripture then, but looking back it’s very significant today, (later post).

One day  late evening, I was at home with D  when the  front door knocked. It wasn’t the usual knock by a postman,  I knew it wasn’t family, and it certainly wasn’t freinds. I knew it wasn’t mummy, as she had no idea where I was living this time.

Naturally D went to open the door. I Felt the colour drained from my face, I felt my chest becoming hot, anxiety was back.  I tried to compose myself as I saw him.


“Close the door D. I shouted.

“No” I thought I said that until I realised, D didn’t hear, as I was shouting in my mind.

The words stuck in my throat, I was in shock,

I remember D , looked at me with scorn, “let me hear what he has to say” he spat the words at me.  “Maybe he read my mind” I thought. At that moment I felt like a used cloth.  I was tired I was mentally exhausted.  I had learnt over the years to use central power, so that the beatings wouldn’t hurt.

Central power for me was by controlling my mind, so when I was under attack, I could block out the pain.  This day for some reasons, I could not tap into those resources.  “Suppose they both attack me”. I thought.

Anxiety was back as I ran to the toilet and vomited.  I vomited as if I was experiencing morning sickness through pregnancy.  Then, I pee myself. I  sat on the toilet floor and I cried.

Suddenly, I remembered, My babies were downstairs.  I got up and ran downstairs two at a time.  Panties still drenched in urine.  When  I arrived downstairs, they were still where I left them, playing on the floor in the living room.  Oblivious, to the terror outside.

D  glanced back at me, but said nothing to me, but the look he gave me, told me it was far from over.

Eric was still at the door, putting his views across, why he should see the children. I didn’t know what to do.

luckily for me, if you could call it luck, D was already upset with Eric, from what he saw when I met him again the first time.  I actually didn’t know why, especially as he was doing exactly the same thing to me.  I thought maybe he had “compassion” for the girl he knew before I had the children.    I thought maybe it was because  Eric was now on Ds territory and I believed he wanted to be seen as  the, macho,  better guy.  Many reasons went through my mind.  I had learnt my new word “confused

I stood cowering behind the kitchen door , They said few unpleasant words to each other but I recall D telling him to move from the door.

“Move from my door, D  said.

I found it strange that mighty man Eric, did as he was told. Although it made me feel safe in a sense.  It also made me realise that D, was very intimidating and basically reminding me that I shouldn’t mess with him.  After all, if Eric couldn’t manage D.  Then what was in store for me?

At this moment, I wanted to be back with Eric. Irrational thoughts.

D was an extremely miserable and serious guy.  Looking back he always was.  But my need for a better life, where the violence was not as intense,  had closed my eyes to those traits. That night D, said nothing but I slept with one eye open.  In my children’s room.

I felt very unsafe when Eric came especially with the incident in the hospital the year before.  I knew D would leave me and go to work and I would be alone.  I was absolutely uncomfortable I needed to leave.

My life was going nowhere, and I was just waiting to die.  I felt worn out, unloved and totally abused both mentally, physically and emotionally. But I was used to it.

I needed to leave the property as I knew Eric would be back for me and the girls.  But how..

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7 Responses to The knock at the door…

  1. Hi Beverly. I admire such bravery and determination that is relayed in your posts, and most of all total openness. Thanks for pouring out your heart, all you’ve been through have made you a stronger person and will be a lesson for many women.


    • Beverley says:

      Thank you for reading, I sincerely hope by the time I get to present days, others can see how God can come through. I still on a journey but this time I’m no longer alone. 🙂


  2. Andy Oldham says:

    Please write to me at my email address. You can find it own my site.


  3. secretangel says:

    Your story just breaks my heart. I can only imagine the fear that you experienced. God bless you!


  4. Andy Oldham says:

    As you continue to tell your story, my heart continues to go out to you. I I hope you got my response to your question about Eisegesis yesterday. Let me know. I sent you my email address to write to me so we can discuss it. Thanks so much for bearing your heart and soul on your blog. It takes a lot of courage to do so. Blessings!


    • Beverley says:

      Thank you Andy, I haven’t received your comment as yet, or anything in the email. Have you heard of KEN HAM? the blog is helping to let go I guess, but yes it’s hard at time. But I can do all things to Christ who strengthens me. 🙂


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