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If you think you might be an abuser, read the cover story and then go get some help. He controlled my money and tried to isolate me from family and friends. Or the man who kills her. Being drunk just made him louder and less likely to pull his verbal punches. He wouldn't take no for an answer, and treated me like I was stupid for not thinking the way he did, or for liking music he didn't.

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My mother and sister, both narcissists, were psychological abusers. Top Stories. Doris Shavers made fateful decisions. He was a vendor, the owner of a courier company. I bought chicken soup and a bouquet of daisies and delivered them to his apartment, thinking I was doing a small mitzvah for the poor sick boy. But I couldn't close the door anymore; he'd broken the hinges. The next day, I told him that just about everything was OK with me except for lying; that was the only thing I wouldn't tolerate.

If you think you might be an abuse victim, read the cover story, and then, please, for your sake, for your children's sake, for your parents' sake, talk to someone who can help you sort things out and gain some clarity. I put my battered red Sentra into first gear, thinking I could just drive away, but then he got really mad. That's the cycle.

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Not long after that, my business started to unravel. So did I. All of us strong, good women. I am not to blame for John's actions. Finally, I drove away. Not even when they make fateful decisions. We were immediately attracted to one another, and over the next several weeks, found ways to meet for dinner or drinks after work, where we talked about everything for hours. Thanks for anything you can do to empower our journalism!

I am a good woman, giving what I can to those in need. He took great pleasure in hitting me with rubber-band missiles and spit balls. No, he was a mean man. That Sept. When John told me that he was falling in love with me, he also told me that I had to tell my friend—the one he was dating, but didn't really like anymore, he said. One night he broke a date, saying he wasn't feeling well and was going home to medicate.

These past weeks have not been easy. I was the baby in the family, the weakest, the easiest to pick on. Deep down, I recognized the s of abuse, but I "loved" this man, and he "loved" me.

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CDT Upvote 0. He was holding the door open, and he started kicking the door. He couldn't understand my parents, he said. But I heard his and a strange woman's voices through the paper-thin door, which he wouldn't answer. No victim of domestic abuse is ever to blame—not even when they deny the abuse is happening.

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Domestic abuse is about two things: power and control. Abusers come from abuse; victims come from victims. By Ronni Mott Wednesday, September 26, p.

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I went to John, my "boyfriend," who applauded my decision to leave and even encouraged me to get revenge on my partners. Recent Comments see recent 25 ».

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The alcohol didn't cause the abuse, but it made it worse. Doris Shavers was a good woman, giving Henry Phillips a room in her house when he broke his foot and couldn't find work. A Good Woman Lives Here. I interviewed Heather Spencer's mother, and talked with Doris Shavers' mother, brothers and aunts. I was the president of my own graphic studio when we met. He drank, and I tried to keep up. I've spent hours on the Internet researching domestic violence.

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And the conversation on the other side of the door had stopped. Don't dare be Jackson's next good, dead woman. I'd been working to hour weeks for years, and after a particularly fun Monday morning I walked out, telling one of my partners that he should call me if he managed to pull his head from the dark place where he seemed to have lost it. Children raised in abusive households become abusers and victims.

He tried to torture my kitten. He was dating a friend of mine who brought him to the party as her date. John had the power in our relationship. John and I argued a lot, and for the life of me, I can't remember 99 percent of what we argued about. It was my 30th birthday. I've spoken with an assistant attorney general, an assistant DA and two social workers.

But I remember he didn't like my friends; he didn't like my parents; he didn't like my independence.

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Abuse doesn't always mean physical violence. I remember my disbelief when he said he loved me because I didn't need him. Congress St. Jackson Free Press Jump to content. Our father also beat her, she says, though he never touched me—I have a hard time believing that one, even though I should know better.

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John followed me out of the bar, yelling as I crossed the street, yelling when I got into my car, yelling as I started the engine. User agreement and privacy statement. My sister became my torturer, and, in turn, a victim of her second husband, who beat her during both of her pregnancies.

Managing Editor Ronni Mott. He was demeaning to me and my friends. As if Heather Spencer were to blame for her own death, because she did what is so common—she wanted to forgive and help her attacker. Not even when they go back to the abuser.

Comments Use the comment form below to begin a discussion about this content. Doesn't the Bible instruct us to "turn the other cheek"? Heather Spencer made fateful decisions. Heather Spencer was a good woman, trying to help George Bell III straighten out the mess he'd apparently made of his business and his life. Over the next four years, he became more and more demanding, all the while doing his best to isolate me from everyone else in my life.

I always had to wait for him; my time was inconsequential. He was a mean drunk. The abuse will not stop on its own. I don't remember what he was yelling about anymore, but I'm sure it was about me being stupid, or incompetent, or a coward for walking away; maybe it was all three. I can trace abuse in my family through my sister, my mother and my grandmother, whose husband—my grandfather—drank and beat her until she threw him out. The news business has changed dramatically in the past year, and we need your help more than ever to keep bringing you important stories about Jackson and the Metro.

If you believe abuse victims are at fault, read the cover story and then tell me how these dead women are to blame for their own murders. He was trying to control me: Lying to me about seeing another woman; applauding my decision to break ranks with my partners; giving me a job; telling me what to think.

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Standing on the playground that day, it was clear I liked the little blonde girl who was playing in front of me.