The room began to spin as soon as Emma opened the front door. Call it a mother’s intuition. Before the somber-faced police officers began to speak, she knew that her son was gone.
Emma would learn that James, the father of two teenage daughters, had taken his own life after enduring nearly two decades of physical, verbal and emotional abuse by his wife, Deborah.
Emma’s mind reeled. She knew her daughter-in-law could be critical of James even in front of other people, including family, but she didn’t know how bad it was or that her granddaughters had started joining in, imitating their mother’s abusive behavior. She wasn’t aware that these assaults by people he loved were constant and ferocious, beating against her son’s soul day after day.
She’d never seen signs of physical abuse; he’d been too good at hiding the deep bruises and fingernail scratches his wife inflicted. She never knew how many nights he was sleeping in dark parking lots in his car to escape the abuse while she was in bed at home.
Emma adored James. Yet, he had been able to hide this abuse from her and everyone else … along with the deepening, destructive depression that was overtaking his spirit.
Anyone Can Be a Victim
James was a strong, kind man. A teddy bear. He coached Little League, volunteered in the community, attended church and had a successful career.
“James had such a sweet, sensitive heart,” Emma said wistfully. “He was such a good boy and became a wonderful husband and father. He was a thoughtful, kind and generous neighbor.”
She knew he’d struggled with mild depression, but she chalked it up to causes we all encounter – work deadlines, the stress of raising teenagers, overscheduling. Recently, he’d stayed at her house for a few days “to decompress.”
“He came by himself, saying he had been struggling a bit and was under a lot of pressure. He was in obvious distress and I knew it was much more than normal depression. This wasn’t James’ normal behavior,” Emma said. “Even though I was very concerned, I didn’t ask questions.”
Emma figured James would take a few days to regain his perspective but she he had no idea it would be the last time she’d ever see him alive.
The days that followed James’ suicide were a blur. Emma’s grief was immense as questions surged through her mind like waves against a rocky shoreline. Why would such a wonderful man take his own life? What was so wrong that he didn’t believe it could get better? Why hadn’t he asked for help?
What was her future going to be like without him?
Abuse is Easy to Hide
Emma soon faced a daunting, emotional task: sorting through a bag of personal belongings that James had forgotten – she had thought – in the spare room where he last stayed.
With the late morning sunshine streaming through the window, she began to pull items from the bag and place them on the neatly made bed. The tattered sweatshirt he used to wear when he worked on his truck still smelled like him. She lovingly touched the pocket knife his grandfather had given him when he was a little boy, remembering how he’d pretend to be Indiana Jones with the knife and a bull whip made from one of his sister’s jump ropes. Her eyes clouded with tears.
Then, in the bottom of the bag, she found a file folder holding disheveled papers. She opened it on the bed and recognized James’ handwriting, neat and precise. He had written his thoughts and experiences about what he had endured over nearly two decades. It was devastating.
“She is very physical when upset. She hits, throws things and spits at me.
“She can be very vindictive, manipulative, calculating and physical.
“When she gets physical, she hits me, head butts me, screams (even in public) and spits at me – even in front of the kids.”
Emma couldn’t believe what she was reading, knowing he was describing Deborah. There was more:
“She’s taught the kids to disrespect me.
“She’s cut off the relationship between my kids and my family.
“She’s the judge and every problem is my fault. Nothing has ever been good enough.
“She’s abusive, physically and mentally. I’m always told I’m not good enough.
“I’m afraid of her violent physical rage.
“Stop degrading me. Stop tearing me down. Stop threatening. Stop destroying things. Stop ridiculing me.”
Stunned, Emma flipped back and forth through the pages, unable to comprehend what she read. She turned to the back of the folder, and her confusion was stripped away by the blunt force of visible evidence.
There was a picture of her wonderful, strong, gentle son he had taken of himself. James had three fingernail abrasions across his cheek, a dark bruise next to his eye.
“Did Deborah do this?” Emma whispered, aghast. She saw more photos: James standing shirtless in front of a mirror, deep purple bruises across his arms and chest … his underarm turning sickening shades of purple and yellow … the bridge of his nose cut and swollen … his chest covered in scratches like a topographical map of his physical pain and emotional ruin.
She couldn’t look at any more pictures of her son like that. She set them face down on the bed and reached for the few remaining papers, looking for some answer that made sense. She found printouts of a string of text messages between James and Deborah, time stamped from the hours leading up to his suicide.
Over and over, James had pleaded with his wife. Over and over, he had received insults, threats and intimidation in return. Deborah’s last few messages were about her plans to leave him – “for good this time” – and to take the kids with her. “I do not care,” her words said. “You are sick.”
That was when the messages stopped, when James must have believed he’d lost his family … and all hope.
He left no suicide note … just a few personal things in a well-worn bag and evidence of his pain to tell his story.
Finding Strength in Compassion
Now, years later, Emma is finally able to talk about James without becoming overwhelmed with emotion. She chose to speak with Sheltering Wings.
James suffered in silence for too long. But, he left his writings to be his voice. Emma believes that if James was able to give his advice to a man surviving domestic abuse, he would tell them, “You are never alone. Don’t let your sadness, depression, shame or frustration go so deep that you lose hope. Please call someone and trust them to help you.”
“Domestic violence is a tragedy whenever and wherever it happens,” Emma said. “But it isn’t something that only women experience. Men experience it, too, even big, strong men like my James.
“If there is one man out there who learns about James and gains the courage to speak up and find help, then the pain of re-telling his story will have been worth it.”
Where to Find Help
Domestic violence is a serious problem affecting one in seven men and one in four women. If you think you are being abused – physically, emotionally, verbally, spiritually, digitally or sexually – help is available. No one has to endure alone. At Sheltering Wings, we’re always available. Call our 24-hour help line at (317) 745-1496. If you’re in immediate danger, stop what you are doing and call 911 immediately.
Thank you, Emma, for sharing James’ story.
