I married my first husband in 1991. He was a kind, caring man until we got married. Then he started drinking more heavily and would come home and abuse me (both physically and emotionally) for little or no reason at all. I endured this for 3 years, thinking that I really didn't deserve any better, because that's what he told me. He came in one night in mid-1994 and went off on me because of the house cleaning I had been doing. I wanted to leave but didn't have anywhere to go. My own mother wouldn't let me stay with her because she was afraid he would do something to her if he knew I was there. So it was either stay in that living hell or live in my car, until I could find somewhere to live. So I left. I don't think there has ever been someone so proud to be living in a car before. About 2 weeks later, I got myself an efficiency apartment and soon after that filed for divorce. Not long after that, he died of drug and alcohol overdose. In 1995, I met the most wonderful man in the world. The difference between the two is like daylight and dark. It is nice to not fear for my safety. It is nice to know I have some one to turn to that won't turn every word I say against me. If I could say anything to the women in the world that are still living through this, it would be: "You really don't deserve this. It's just a scheme devised by a weak little boy to get you to stay and be as miserable as he is. Get out and make a life for yourself. The cycle doesn't have to continue. My prayers are with you all!"