This is a page for my BOM. I kept it simple and focused on the journaling. It is long, but for those of you who are wondering... it reads:
Just before we were married, Jonathan and I were approved for an Indian Home through the Chickasaw Nation. We were very excited to be starting our new life in a new home that we would someday own. We moved in to our home in May 2002. It was in the country outside of Ada. I thought being out of town would keep my husband home on the weekends and he agreed to limit his drinking to once a month. I could live with that. It didn't work. We fought as much as ever. There were times he would put his knee into my chest and press down with his weight until I passed out. I would fight back with all my might. I broke his nose once. That should not be a proud moment in my life, but knowing I got a good strike in every once in a while did make me feel better. I once threw him off the hood of my car with some stunt driving because he thought I wouldn't leave the house if he were on top of my car. Battle after battle I seemed to lose myself in this marriage and resent my life. There were times I prayed for death knowing I could not take my own life. Many times, while lying beaten, I took solace in plotting the murder of my husband. I prayed he would die. I thought it was the only way I would have strength enough to leave. I knew all his promises were empty. I knew I was living in the same cycle of abuse I had grown up in. I can't explain why I did not have the strength to leave, but I didn't. We married on June 15, 2002. Three short weeks later I was pregnant, but I did not find out until week 12. I have no idea how my sweet little Alexis made it through those first twelve weeks when we fought like crazy. When he would hit me, it was always in my torso, so if there were any bruises, no one would see them. Co-workers didn't know what I was going through at home, but they did not like the way he treated me. I had let Jonathan create distance between my family & me without realizing it had happened. I was very alone in my life and marriage. When I found out I was pregnant, I had a new found strength in me that could not be beat. I was very excited when I found out I was pregnant at the end of September. I told jonathan first and he seemed very excited. We called to tell my Mom and she was less than enthusiastic. I cried as she told me how I was ruining my life by getting married and pregnant while going to college and how no one thought I would finish with a degree. I called my Grandma and she was so happy. Jonathan took me to his parents to tell them in person. They were excited. It only took a month for the happiness to wear off. I had a feeling that my husband had moved from alcohol to another woman. Hormones raging, I started keeping a closer watch on my husband. He was spending alot of time at work with a woman hired through drug court. They would both go "missing" from work sometimes. Jonathan began volunteering for overtime when he and Mary could work together. I thought I was going crazy over the next three months when I would have this dreadful feeling about him and feel the need to cry. I would call his cell phone and get no answer. I called his job and asked to speak to him but he wouldn't be available. I began asking where Mary was. She couldn't be reached either. One day I got the nerve to drive to her apartment when they both couldn't be reached. His car was parked out front. Pregnant belly sticking out, I grabbed the softball bat out of my trunk. I walked to her door and banged on it. No answer. I could hear them inside. I thought about busting all the windows out of Jonathan's car, but I had a moment of clarity. They would call the police and I would be arrested. He would fight me for custody of the baby and win because I didn't keep my temper in check. I got back in my car and went to Legal Aid to ask about getting a divorce. They said that it would be a waste of their time and my money, so they could not help me. I went to the Tribal Court and they told me I wasn't thinking clearly and they would not do anything for me until I was no longer pregnant. I went home and mourned the death of my marriage until the end of January. I had finally made a plan. I calmly sat and waited for Jonathan to come home so I could tell him that I planned on divorcing after the baby was born. I told him that I knew about his relationship with Mary and he could have her. I was going to have this baby in April and he had obligations to me. I lmoved all his things into the spare bedroom and that is where I expected him to sleep. I did not need to see him on the weekends, but I did expect him to be home during the week and to take me to the hospital for the delivery. He laughed it off. I was dead serious. I began going home every weekend to stay with my mom & dad. They knew something was wrong, but never asked. In March, I finally let them in on my state of dispair and how I had been abused. They told me to try to work it out for the baby, but to keep my eyes open and not to allow anyone to raise their hand to me again & that I could always come home. As bad as I wanted to be with this man, as much as I knew in my heart that I loved him, I knew that I could not drag my daughter through the same life I had been through. I knew that if my daughter were to endure the same abuses I had as a child that it would be my own fault for not choosing a different life for her and myself. I couldn't be responsible for that. We had one last fight five days after my emergency cesarian. He asked me to pick him up after he drunkenly wrecked his car. I went to pick him up. When I saw how drunk he was I started to roll up my window and go back home. He grabbed my hair and started pulling me out of the window by my hair. I was trying to put the car back in park and roll the window down. I was scared and my baby was in the carseat in the back. When he pulled me out of the car it ripped open the staples in my stomach and I was bleeding. He got in the car and drove Alexis to his mother's house. I was left on the side of the road. I walked to his mother's. We started fighting there. I decided he was going to have to kill me to take my baby. When he was choking me, one of his friends came to stop him. They got into a fist fight and his friend threw him in the back of his truck and drove off. I got my baby and went to the police department. It was Jonathan's friend. They didn't even take my report. I went home and got some clothes and a diaper bag and went to my parents. I filed for divorce the following Monday and started a five month long divorce battle. I had the Office of Domestic Violence and a female lawyer that had suffered years of abuse on my side. I ended up getting more than I asked for. I sold everything and moved into student housing to start over. After all, I still had a degree to earn.