Lifting Fog Dec 29 Written By {~Name~} View my blog for more at {~Link~} (Rewind to June 2019) I could sense my husband was growing more stressed with his work. I understood that leading a youth ministry could be stressful, so I chalked up his strange behavior to his workload. It was a summer afternoon and I was sitting in the office next to him, working on the children’s ministry curriculum and volunteer schedules. Upon finishing my work, I noticed that I was not working in the children’s ministry on Sunday, July 7th. I’m free! Maybe he can take the weekend off too. I texted a close friend who lives up north and asked if we could crash at their place for the weekend. She and her husband were very dear friends of ours. We consider them as family. My girlfriend was excited to open their home to us and spend some time with them before they left for the weekend. They both had obligations to volunteer at a camp that weekend and had to leave Friday afternoon, but she said we could stay at their place while they were gone. A free place to stay on a fourth of July weekend? I’ll take it! I asked permission from my father-in-law, who was also the lead pastor. He was completely on board and thought it was a great idea for the both of us to have a spontaneous getaway weekend. I even found a house sitter to watch our pup. All of the plans were falling into place. I was so excited to get away and spend some one-on-one time with my husband exploring the {~Location 1~} together. I grew up in {~State 1~} and taking summer trips to the mountains was one of my favorite things to do. I knew that being in the beauty of the mountains can just cause the stress of life to melt away. The greenery, the crispy mountain air, and the slower pace were calling my name. I wanted that for him. I imagined his stress levels falling. I wanted to see him laugh again. He stopped laughing months ago. He stopped coming to bed with me. He stopped asking me how I was doing. He stopped engaging with me altogether. More and more of his time was spent on his phone, computer, or in front of the television. It’s the stress of his job, I kept telling myself. We had many fights about how much time he was spending on electronics. They never ended well. He talked about running away from everything. It’s the stress of his job, I justified. He stopped caring altogether. I thought it was because of the miscarriage and the stress of adjusting to a more demanding job. He started to talk with me more and more about choking me out for fun. I thought he was just being silly and I always laughed it off. He wrapped his arm around my neck at times while I was making dinner or laying in bed. I justified it all. I tried to make sense of it but in the meantime, I shut down too. My stress levels were through the roof. I thought I had to keep it all together to keep up with appearances. Don’t let them see your weakness, {~name~}. When I had the miscarriage in May, I kept that emotional valve shut tight. The stress inside of me was so pressed down, the levels were rising. I could feel it in my chest. I could taste it in my mouth. Something was wrong. I just didn’t know what. We needed this vacation. So, after finishing my schedule, I walked over to his office and knocked on his door. “Come in,” he said. I opened his door and leaning on its frame, I announced with a smile, “Hey! Mark your calendar. I’m taking you away on the first weekend of July for a trip. Your dad said it was okay. We can make it back just in time on Sunday night for youth group!” He turned his chair toward me and smiled. There it is, I thought. Relieved to finally see a smile on his face. “Okay!” He said quickly. I turned around to begin the plans and his voice called from afar, “Hey, I’d like to go on a hike when we’re there,” he remarked. I slowly walked back to him in disbelief… A hike?? He never wants to hike! “I’d love to go on a mountain with a cliff face,” He said. “Sounds like fun!!” I replied. Maybe he just needs some exercise and an adrenaline rush, I thought. I was shocked that he suggested going for a hike because throughout all the years that I’ve known him, he never once expressed an interest in doing anything remotely close to hiking. I shut his door to continue to let him work and finished up mine. It was then that I started the countdown for our vacation. I was so excited and ready to get away from it all. I was ready to breathe. I know where your mind is going, it’s clear to see, isn’t it? But when you are in the middle of the mess, your mind doesn’t go there. Your mind always assumes the best. Especially when it comes to someone you love the most. (fast forward) On {~Date~}, I called 9-1-1 on my husband. That very morning after I finished reading and taking my last sip of coffee, I breathed in that beautiful fresh mountain air. I remembered it was going to rain at some point during this vacation, so I looked at the weather radar that morning. Oh, no. There was going to be a torrential downpour and thunderstorm right where we wanted to hike. We only had 3 hours before it hit. He woke up shortly after me and made his way out to the back porch where I was reading. Leaning on the door frame, I showed him the radar on my phone. “Hey, I’m not sure today would be a good day to hike. We don’t have much time before the storm hits. Maybe we can go tomorrow morning before we head home?” I asked. “No, we need to go today,” he insisted. I knew that this may be the only time he would ever want to hike again and I didn’t want to miss the opportunity since it’s something that I love. We searched frantically for a hike that was close enough, yet fit his qualifications. We planned to go to {~Location 2~}. He didn’t care to pack food nor did he care to eat beforehand. He said a Gatorade would be enough. He wore a tank top, shorts, and flat Adidas slide-in shoes. I wore workout pants, a tank top, a bandana, and running shoes. We loaded up in the truck and headed toward the mountain. The GPS kept rerouting us, we lost reception more times than I can count, and we could not find the trailhead. We were running out of time and I was growing frustrated. I wanted to be able to enjoy the hike and not rush it, but he insisted. “Let’s drive along the {~Location 3~} and find something there. I remember seeing a trail when we came yesterday,” he said. We swam in the {~Location 4~} the day before. It was one of the best days we had together in months. We laughed a lot, talked, rested, and enjoyed the day exploring. All was well. I was at ease because I felt like taking this mini-vacation was exactly what he needed. There was one point on that day when he was physically aggressive with me while we were swimming. I look back now and have the mental clarity to realize that it was not okay. His hands that were meant to show love treated me as an object and I numbly complied. As I always did. I tried to fight it but that nagging voice in the back of my head told me to stop… don’t disappoint him, {~name~}. So, we drove along the {~Location 3~} since we could not find {~Location 2~}. We drove and drove and drove and connected to the {~Location 5~}. My anxiety began to build as time passed. Something is not right. We turned the corner and arrived at the spot he told me about previously and were welcomed with a large, wooden sign. The sign read, “{~Location 6~}.” This is where my life forever changed. We pulled in, paid for parking, and began our ascent. He has a bad knee, so he took Advil before heading up. We stopped to look at the map before climbing. I looked for the total distance, the route, and the scenic points. He searched for all the lookout points at the top. He huffed and puffed his entire way up. He had to take many breaks for a breath and a drink. It is a 1.5-mile trail up and back, totaling only at 3 miles. I talked most of the way up, pointed out silly “scenic” points. One scenic point was literally just a little village of mushrooms. All I honestly cared about was seeing a moose. I’ve lived 28 years in {~State 1~} and have never seen a moose. It's one of my life’s goals and remains it still today. I laughed and talked about my family, and eventually, he asked if we could stop talking altogether. He wanted silence. Strange… I thought. Finally, we made it to the top. He kept searching around the top of the mountain for more cliffs almost as if he was searching for the perfect one. I thought nothing of it. I spent most of that time taking pictures of the scenery and taking in the beauty of the mountainous landscape that seemed to stretch on forever. I looked over to my right and he was walking closer and closer to the edge. I continued to tell him to be careful and to stop going so close. He had an intense and thrilling look in his eyes. He stood on a rock that protruded out of the cliff and looked down for a minute. “Come over here and stand on this,” he asked. “Uhm, no thank you. I don’t want to slip and die..” I sarcastically said back. He continued to plead with me, and I didn’t want to let him down despite how scared I was. So, against my every instinct, I complied. I stood on the edge and he was behind me. “Just trust me,” he said, with his hands on my lower back. My shaking knees straightened as I held onto a long, dead tree branch on my right. I could feel the wind cool on my legs and I glimpsed downward for a split second into the abyss of pine trees hundreds of feet down right below my feet. And in an instant, I heard... Get off. Instinct.. fear...intuition...the voice of God? I am not sure. But I knew I needed to get away quickly. I instantly backed off and scooted off, stood up, and walked to a safe place. Breathe, {~name~}. He was frustrated with me but I didn’t care. Something was wrong; I could sense it. I thought I was nervous about the impending storm, but my subconscious knew that I wasn’t safe for more reasons than one. He kept making comments that if I were to fall off the small drop-offs, I would only break a leg and I’d survive. Not that cliff… that one was a 250-foot drop into pine trees. I couldn’t see what was happening right in front of me. I told him to stop making those jokes, and he pointed the finger back at me and said that it was me who was making them. Always playing mind games. After I backed away from the ledge that he wanted me to stand on, I found a comfortable spot farther up and sat down. I tried to shake off this nervous feeling that I had and focused on the scenery in front of me. I took in the hundreds of shades of green spotted across the landscape, the eagle soaring through the trees, and the blue sunny skies welcoming me. He made his way over to me and sat down. With a deep breath, he said “I could get used to this.” “It truly is beautiful here,” I responded. We quietly enjoyed the view together. There was a large rainstorm approaching and the clouds from behind the mountain were growing darker by the minute. “I think it’s time we start heading back, we don’t want to get caught in the rain,” I said. He insisted that we waited longer. Everyone at this point was cleared from the top. It was just him and I. Anxiety continued to grow inside me. I waited long enough, it was now growing darker as the clouds covered the sun. “I’m sorry, but we have to go now,” I said as I stood up, brushing off my dusty legs. I stood up to walk away and he followed frustratingly with a huff. We entered the wooded path down the mountain, and only about one hundred feet in, he shouted at me from behind, “You have been the biggest source of stress in my life!” I turned around to him in shock. He was about 30 feet away from me, stopped dead in his tracks, fists clenched… I was completely thrown off as this was coming out of the blue… “what?” I responded. His face looked different. He then went on to tell me that he doesn’t think we were meant to be together. That maybe that’s why I had the miscarriage. That all he ever does is try with me, and I give him nothing in return. He said he didn’t know if he wanted to try anymore with me. Blame shifting. Guilt giving. Life-sucking words. I begged, “I want to fix this. I’m willing to fight, but you need to be, too. Are you?” “I don’t know,” he said. “The only way we couldn’t possibly work this out is if you cheated on me,” I said. Stone cold face, hands-on-hips, head pointed away from me and toward the ground, he said the two most shocking words… “I did.” My feet instantly left the ground. My breath escaped me. I can only hear the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. No, no. This isn’t real. I am dreaming. “It was when you went away to that children’s ministry conference. It was with some random girl in a hotel,” he said. Still no eye contact. “What? This isn’t real,” I said. “Some random girl? At a hotel?” I begged him to tell me who and where. But all my heart wanted to know was why. He crouched down, giving off a tearless cry. “This isn’t real, this isn’t happening, this isn’t real…” I continued to chant to myself. I kept touching my chest and my head and my face to make sure I was still there. The first raindrops were beginning to fall on my skin, but I couldn’t feel it. I looked at the tree bark. Noticed the details, the moss, the bugs. This. Is. Real. Panic is setting in. “The rain is coming. We will work this out. We NEED to get off this mountain!” I shouted. The wind was beginning to pick up. He didn’t move, still crouched in the dirt refusing to look at me. I was about 15 feet away from him. I turned to walk away, and just when I thought I couldn’t be any more heartbroken.... his voice sounded relieved and terrified as he shouted her name. My best friend. I stopped in my tracks. My mind flooded with all of the time we spent together. Betrayal of the deepest sense… my best friend and my husband? I could no longer feel my entire body. Her? No. It couldn’t be. I moved toward him as he began to tell me how many times they slept together, when, and where. “I’ve always loved her and she has always loved me. When we found out you were pregnant, it was the only thing that stopped us from running away together because we thought she was pregnant too,” he said. I looked at my hands. I examined my skin. I felt my chest. I am real. This is real. Breathe. “Are you lying?” I breathlessly asked. He looked down at my feet, smirked, and said, “What if I am?” “Come ON, tell me... are you lying!?” I asked, louder. I was about 10 feet down the path, away from him. “Yes,” he said, with a relieved smile. My heart rate slowed. I ran up the rocky, steep trail to him. I touched his shoulders, his face, and asked why he would do that to me. “Did you want to see how much I love you? Why would you lie about this? LOOK AT ME!” He didn’t look at me. “You’re not lying, are you?” I whispered. “No,” he said sternly. Anger grew inside of me unlike any other. I screamed in his face and he did not look at me. Instead, he stared blankly at my feet. “You broke a COVENANT with me! LOOK AT ME!” I yelled. But he refused to look. Refused to fight. Refused to try. “We need to go home and work this out, we can get help!” He then looked up at me for the first time and stated with a strangely calm yet loud voice… “What, do you think we can just go home now after this!? We can’t just go home now. I can’t tell my parents about this.” I turned to walk away. And then, seconds later, I felt the blow. I woke up on the ground. Flashes of pictures of leaves and trees and sky and his fists filled my mind. My ears were ringing and all I could hear was his muffled animal-like scream mixed with my heavy breathing and helpless cry. My husband hit me in the back of the head with a rock. I woke up on the ground with him fighting me. I miraculously landed on my left side and did not fall face-down into the steep trail under my feet. I was able to come to consciousness just in time to fight. I didn’t realize I was fighting him. I didn’t realize he was trying to kill me. I didn’t realize anything except that I needed to protect my neck as he reached for it. I breathlessly screamed, kicked, punched…fought like hell. I remember tasting blood. He then began to hyperventilate and sat up with his hands in his face. “I’m a piece of shit,” he wailed. Over and over again. “You deserve better.” That was the first true statement I heard from his mouth in years. I picked myself up and tried to help him breathe as I regained my breath. I attempted to lift up his hands to help him and they flopped on the ground the moment I let go and then… Then I felt it... Pain, throbbing pain, in my head and neck. I touched the back of my head. I remembered the noise of the rock hitting my head. It was like sticking my head inside a bass drum. Then a faint ringing sound. And then black. I felt my head. It was the lower left part of my head where he struck me with the rock. It was swelling fast. My vision was blurred and I could hear my breath as if I was inside of a tight bubble. “You hit me in the back of the head with a rock,” I quietly muttered while holding my head. “You tried to kill me. I might die. My head is swelling. I might die” I chanted. I began to panic as I knelt in the dirt and rocked my body back and forth as my mind raced through scenarios. What do I do? He continued to wail on the ground like a child. His cry was different this time. It was real, but it was only for himself. “I have to call 9-1-1,” I announced. I stood up with shaky legs and retrieved my phone from my backpack. My shaking hands began to dial 9-1-1. He then begged me not to, but I knew that we both weren’t safe and I didn’t think that I was going to survive if I waited longer. He wailed and begged me not to… “Please, please, please don’t. Don’t, {~name~}!” “If you don’t want me to call 9-1-1, then you’re going to follow me down this mountain and if I faint… you’re going to carry me if it’s the last thing you do for me,” I demanded as if speaking to a child. He then went very still. His breathing slowed and his eyes stared into the dirt. No response. He just doesn’t want to get caught, {~name~}. He doesn’t care for me, he only cares for himself. As my thoughts began to see reality for what it was, then my adrenaline kicked in. I could feel my veins spark and my vision cleared. I was very present. I was breathing smoothly, my knees stopped shaking, and I felt more alert than ever. He is going to try to kill me again, I realized. Once I ran out of his sight, I stopped and called 9-1-1. Instant connection. The dispatcher connected me to the {~Location 7~} Deputies Office. “We are on our way,” are the last words I heard before I lost connection. And then... I ran. Run, {~name~}. Run like hell. It was a good thing I began training for a half marathon months before. I had tunnel vision as I zeroed in on the trail. Follow the yellow dots. Lord, don’t let him jump. Don’t trip. Light feet. Lord, don’t let me die. Please get me to the bottom. I WILL survive this. Don’t trip. Stay on your toes. Follow the yellow dots. Please, God, don’t let him jump. I ran for 20 minutes down a steep, rocky trail filled with boulders and thick pine roots. It was pouring rain. I didn’t feel a drop. I could not feel my feet touch the ground. I could not feel my head pain or my weak knee. Adrenaline surged through my veins. As I ran for my life, I thought of my mom and dad. I thought of a man that would be on the bottom of the mountain to rescue me. I thought of Hawaii. I thought of my husband and prayed for his safety. I thought of my dog, my church, my brothers. I thought of my sisters and my nieces. I thought of my family. My entire life and all that I loved came to the forefront of my mind. It was my people that mattered. The ones I loved. I fought and I ran for them. I dreamt of being held by my mom and dad. I didn’t trip. I didn’t slip. I didn’t stop. I heard the laughter of a woman up high in the hill to the right of me as I ran. I paused and looked up… Should I yell for help? I decided not to. It’s not worth the risk. I turned around and could not see him behind but heard the crunching of leaves far up the trail and they were getting louder. RUN, {~name~}! I ran as silently and quickly as I could. I didn’t want him to hear me and find me. I remember swallowing my stinging breaths and letting the air slowly out my nostrils. I didn’t even want to breathe loudly. I held my backpack straps tightly to my chest to keep my backpack from making noise. He kept calling me. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t break this silent sprint. I had to focus. In what felt like only minutes, I made it to the bottom of the trail. As the ground became flatter, I ran as fast as I could. I could begin to see the flashing blue lights through the thick trees. Those lights were the hope that I soon will be able to take shelter from this storm. They came for me! I’m going to be safe. Keep going, {~name~}. You’re almost there. My phone continued to buzz in my hand, and once I could see the blue lights, I answered the phone. I picked up the phone to the sound of him wailing, “I’m so sorry..I’m so sorry..” again and again. In a quiet, yet firm, whisper I said, “Your life is worth living. Meet me at the bottom.” I hung up. Those were the last words I spoke to him. Oh Lord, please don’t let him jump. Finally, I made it to the trailhead. I waived my weary arms in the air as the EMTs covered for safety inside the ambulance from the torrential downpour. I was still afraid to yell. The skies were dark and the lights flashed and reflected off the wet leaves as I ran closer. The glimmers of blue and red welcomed me with each step. I ran up to the ambulance and placed my hand on its cold, wet frame as I found my way to the back with wobbly knees. They opened the door and I jumped in. It was so bright, cold, and unfamiliar. I looked down at my shaking legs. They were covered in dirt and sweat. My scraped and bloodied knees stung as the sweat dripped down. My muscles were spazzing. My hands shaking, and my head throbbing. What just happened? A tall deputy entered into the ambulance, dripping from the downpour, and breathlessly said “You must be {~name~}.” Apparently, he ran up half the mountain trying to find me. Why is he so wet? Is it raining? I was hooked up to so many machines in a matter of minutes. They checked to make sure I didn’t have brain bleeding. All clear. The pain in my neck and head was so intense. It was the pain that reminded me that this was not a bad dream. It reminded me of him. All I could think about was him. “Is he okay?” I kept asking the deputy. They cared about making sure I was okay first. It wasn’t long after I arrived in the ambulance that my husband made his way to the bottom of the mountain and was arrested immediately. I was so relieved he didn’t jump. Thank you, God. I was rushed to the local hospital. I remember watching the rain pour through the ambulance window in complete shock. What just happened? I just wanted my mom and dad. I wanted to go home. I wanted to be a little girl again. I wanted all of this to be erased. I couldn’t cry. I could only breathe. The days and months that followed that terrible day have been filled with painful conversations, post-traumatic stress, fear, emotional breakdowns, family reunions, moving, restraining order paperwork, medical bills, court dates, trauma therapy, writing, reading, forgiveness, love, peace, and hope. I have a future. I am unsure where my future lies on this earth but what matters is that I have a future. He is no longer my responsibility. He chose to become the man that he is today. I am free of him. I ran down that mountain away from the abuse and into my freedom. My feet are set on a new path. I have hope for a brighter tomorrow. I am not done for. He is only a man. Just one man. He will not have the last word.