Every nickel we earned went to him, his obsessions and his lifestyle. Even though we spent over a million dollars on his obsession, we never had a honeymoon, I never had an engagement ring, he did not even give me a wedding ring for over a decade, and then it was only because I insisted that he buy anything, even the cheapest plain gold band that the Base Commissary offered. I once asked him why, after all I’d done for him, and all I’d forgiven, and all we’d spent over a million on him, and I’d borrowed close to $400,000.00 for his whims, why he’d never even bought me a simple gold band. He said he didn’t feel I “deserved” a wedding ring.
It is not possible for me to know how others view the photo in the logo above. For me it is a horror and a constant daily reminder that I have no value in this society. I have lived in poverty for years now, I have lived with violence and abuse for years, while my husband gets away with illegal, immoral and unethical conduct, and the military and society protect him. People have known about this and done nothing. Some have actually attacked me. This website is simply to memorialize what has gone on, so that someone may benefit from my experiences in one way or another. The cowardly and abhorrent military policies that have allowed my husband (and his colleagues) to get away with this sort of conduct need to be reviewed by Congress. Only Congress has the authority to investigate this matter thoroughly and request changes from the Sec of Defense – Ashton Carter.
As you go through this website you will see that I name names and have attached true copies of original documents, including texts, emails and video recordings. I do so for accuracy and because we will never change policies if we do not look at policies openly and honestly, and see how they impact people. Regardless of how others view me, I am a human being and I deserve to be treated better than this.
And for those “policy makers” who have turned away and could not be bothered to get involved, but spew out an empty Hallmark Card sentiment, like “I am so sorry, Good Luck,” you are as much a part of the problem as the worst abuser, because you know what is happening and choose to do nothing. The depth of indifference and even open hostility is beyond comprehension to me anymore. All it takes for evil to succeed is for good people to do nothing.
About the photo in the logo above and the one below, on Christmas Eve this year (2015) a “friend” whom I do many favors for, sent me a present. I found it in the evening as I was going out to feed the horses. It was getting late, I was tired and feeling weak and nauseated, and I almost tripped over a package the mailman had left at the back door. As I walked into the kitchen holding the package I will admit that I was momentarily overcome with joy, that in the misery of this existence, there might be a tiny gesture of genuine kindness and caring, a fragile link to distant memories of happiness. I imagined that the package might be from my daughter, but it was from a friend whom I had just done a special favor for. He knows what has been going on here, and that there are many “basics of life” that I need, and many many things I go without, so that the dogs and horses (which my husband abandoned here with me), will have food to eat.
I can’t really convey in words what it felt like to realized that the friend had simply re-gifted something that I would never want, and that he also did not want, except that it resonates with the fact that I am something that my husband and society do not want or care about. I set “the gift” aside until Christmas morning, when I had to bathe. That step stool is what I sit on to bathe. I use a spray hose and hope that I finish before the sewage tainted water rises to the first step, where it will be in contact with me.
