Recently I watched Evan Rachel Wood’s documentary titled “Phoenix Rising” on HBOMax, and it wasn’t easy. If you haven’t watched it and won’t find it triggering, I highly recommend watching it because it so clearly explains the grooming process, love bombing, brain washing, and the whole awful cycle. The bravery that it took for her and his other victims to come out, is absolutely incredible. It is terrifying to come forward.

My abuser is Preston Moudy. And this is the mugshot from his domestic violence arrest where I was the victim. It was April 4th/5th 2014, 18 months before I kicked him out for good.

That night he was drunk, and I’d taken the keys from him so that he wouldn’t get another DUI. The verbal and emotional abuse had been going on for hours by the time I took his keys, and the kids were in my room with a Disney movie playing. He wouldn’t let me past him for me to go back to the bedroom, and instead shoved me backwards over the couch. (Oh, and before that he’d been cleaning his gun while drunk and reminding me that he could kill me, and get rid of my body.) I hit my head and shoulder, then I was pissed and scared and called 911. He was arrested and pictures were taken for evidence. I wish that I could say that was the end and I never let him back in the house, but that’s not the case.

It’s hard to deprogram yourself after several years of brainwashing. Sleep deprivation was a favorite tactic of his, and I honestly believe that’s what’s caused my insomnia as an adult. Almost a decade of consistent sleep deprivation fucks with your brain in a big way, and any sleep deprivation makes you susceptible to brainwashing. Playing video games loudly, staying up watching movies while drinking, calling/texting all hours when we were apart (and getting upset if I didn’t answer quickly), picking fights at bedtime…you name it, he did it as far as sleep deprivation goes.

The other night I forgot to take my meds (Zoloft, Melatonin, seroquel) and couldn’t fall asleep. I didn’t realize til the next morning that I’d forgotten them, so I tried all my normal stuff-Keith Morrison podcast, white noise, guided meditation, weed-and finally fell asleep after midnight. I’d lay there and startle awake with every sound (which can be a lot around here, the military is always doing something), and got anxious at the sound of Rhett’s dog snores…normally that doesn’t bother me much at all. I know the years of sleep deprivation by Preston has caused that specific anxiety response to snoring, because he snored and it was always worse when he was nasty drunk. I’d spend hours lying in bed awake, hoping that he’d stay passed out so I wouldn’t have to have sex with him.

Even now, more than 6 years after separating from him, I’m still figuring out new ways that the trauma has affected me.

At one point Evan Rachel Wood explains how MM made her into a drug addict, and it hit me that Preston did something similar with me and alcohol. He’s a raging alcoholic, and just about everything we did had to involve alcohol. Even taking the kids to the beach, he had to pack a big cooler full of beer and liquor for just the 2 of us. More than once he passed out drunk on the beach and I’d have to deal with trying to get all the beach stuff, 2 toddlers, and his drunk ass back to the car. He’d start making drinks at home and coerce me (with anger and threatening jokes) into joining him. Evan R. Wood said something in Part 2 of the documentary about learning to think about just surviving the next moment, even when being coerced into doing drugs, because her brain couldn’t think farther than that…it was an “aha” moment for me; making that connection between surviving and drinking with him. In that moment, I was able to release a bit of shame.

I’ve held on to so much guilt and shame for things that I did with my abuser, related to drinking. Not DUIs or anything like that; just the way I’d binge drink and sometimes blackout, or how I’d act when i was drunk with him. I’ve been literally victim blaming myself, but watching that documentary I was able to finally to start letting go of that blame because I was literally just trying to survive moment to moment. I wasn’t even able to truly plan for any sort of future, my brain just couldn’t process beyond a certain point in the near-ish future.

Survival. It kind of blows my mind to remember those days of just trying to survive. And trying to make sure my kids survived.

I remember a few times of trying to leave with the kids, and never having the access to money to actually be able to do it. I was too ashamed to drive the 3 hours to my parents’ house. Too embarrassed to drive to a friend’s and convinced that none of my friends would actually help (not because of them, but because of the emotional abuse from my abuser). Now, I always like to have a bit of money that’s not in my bank; whether it’s cash (preferable), my PayPal that’s tied to Rover, money in my Venmo. It’s a safety thing, because those are apps that only I have access to no matter what.

I removed the tv from my room, and don’t like watching tv in my room at all. Preston was a gamer and took over the tv room literally all the time. If I wanted to watch something, I had to watch it in the bedroom. If I was sick or when I was recovering from surgeries (yes, multiple) or dealing with the awful physical effects of infertility, I was banished to my bedroom while he gamed, drank liquor, and smoked cigarettes inside (which was against our rules but he knew I didn’t have the energy to get out of bed and bitch at him). He made me feel shitty about even asking for help when I was recovering from a laparoscopic surgery for stage 4 endometriosis. In fact I had 2 of those surgeries, a shoulder surgery, several IUIs, IVF, pneumonia, and swine flu over the course of our marriage and he didn’t take care of me.

Being fiercely independent and not letting people help me is a response to that trauma. It is STILL hard for me to ask for help, but the universe has been helping me get over that since about August 2021.

And the point of this post isn’t the GoFundMe that my friend set up for me but I’m going to share it https://gofund.me/dfaa6e71

Last summer Preston filed in court, to try to force the kids and me out of the house. He doesn’t want to live here, he wants to force me to sell it since it’s in both of our names. He’s also claimed a kid on 2020 and 2021 taxes, even though he has nothing to do with them. Yes it’s tax fraud, and eventually it will catch up to him, but it means I have to paper file and then wait much longer for the tax refund that I so desperately need.

Abusers don’t stop abusing. They become inventive and resourceful when incomes to HOW they abuse their victims. Living under this cloud of abusive control, waiting for a judge to rule on the house, once again feeling like my abuser is going to get away with shit again, it’s exhausting.

I cannot wait to be done dealing with him.

If you’re in a domestic violence situation, please call 800-799-7233. You deserve better.