The Road to Freedom

Linn Nelson, Survivor and Crisis Advocate, Shelter for Family Safety

Transformation is often slow. And it can be painful. Crisis Advocate  Linn Nelson at Children’s Home Shelter for Family Safety is a survivor of more than 20 years of domestic abuse. She’s also a previous client, having attended a support group at the old Children’s Inn location.

In 2022, Linn spoke of her harrowing experience, not only in her marriage, but in the divorce process at Take Back the Night at the University of Sioux Falls. She has allowed us to share her story to spread awareness, reduce shame and offer hope to other survivors of abuse.

Posted on September 13, 2024

It takes Herculean strength to leave abuse.

Unfortunately, the odds of successfully leaving abuse permanently were stacked against me. I lived a lifetime of abuse. I had complex PTSD, and was physically and mentally sick when I finally called the Compass Center. That phone call alone defied the odds. Then suddenly I was thrust into the most dangerous, overwhelming and confusing time for any survivor, which is when leaving the abuser. I had to figure out how to keep my ex from breaking into the house, try to protect and support my children through the trauma, and navigate the complexities of the legal system.

I remember sitting at the school parking lot after trying to fill my car with gas—only to find out my ex had canceled another bank account. The utility company had called earlier to let me know my ex was closing the account, and I would lose power soon. I had a call in to a locksmith because my ex was threatening to enter the house.

My children’s future was dependent on my ability to not be completely broken—but I was. My ex spent a total of 25 years trying to convince me I was crazy and from outward appearances it worked. My daughters had lived through his triangulation. He undermined my credibility and authority as a parent in front of our children. If our daughter threw a temper tantrum, he would blame me. By the time I left the abuse, our daughters had little faith in me. My children were convinced I was unable to survive as a single parent or even as a functioning adult.

Divorcing my abuser required that I meet for 15 hours over the holidays with my ex and a clinical psychologist. Half of that time was spent at the psychologist’s office with my daughters and the man who systematically tried to destroy my career, my relationships with anyone close to me, and my sense of self.

The report from the clinical psychologist, who was recommended by my ex’s attorney, was factually wrong in significant ways. It read much like the distorted version of reality I was gaslighted to believe throughout my marriage.

The clinical psychologist did not recognize my symptoms of PTSD. She never contacted the counselor who had provided years of therapy for my daughters and me. She left out my ex’s felony DUI, hit and run, and attempted suicide when his first wife divorced him. There was no mention of his drunken threat of suicide when I tried to leave shortly after we met. She dismissed the significance of the incident when my ex pinned me up against the wall with his hands around my neck while I was holding our infant daughter in my arms. She failed to mention that he beat our dog so severely that it prompted a neighbor to call animal control.

There was nothing about how he monitored my cell phone and would interrogate me if he saw a phone number he didn’t recognize or if I spoke too long. We lived on the other side of the state from my family for the first 10 years of our marriage. I wasn’t allowed to make long distance calls, so my sister secretly sent me money to call her. That was never discussed. The clinical psychologist had no understanding of all the years I tried to leave but he blocked the doors and stood in front of my car. He would intentionally bump into me as I was making dinner as a way of intimidating me. Her report also neglected to mention that I couldn’t park my car in the garage without being reprimanded that I carelessly parked too far to the left or right. She left out how he scolded me for how I operated the garbage disposal, the vacuum and the oven.

I remember thinking how odd it was that I could have a successful 15-year career as a college professor, but he didn’t trust me to accomplish the most basic tasks in life. I literally could not go for a walk with him without being criticized for intentionally walking too fast or too slow. Nowhere in the report did it mention that he owned every one of our bank accounts and would wake me up in the middle of the night in a rage when he balanced the checkbook, which inevitably led to chastising me over a purchase or how I categorized the purchase.

He constantly reminded me I had failed. He treated me like a child. None of this was mentioned in her report. The clinical psychologist’s evaluation was more destructive to my mental health than any abuse I was trying to escape. It completely destroyed what hope I had left to free my children from the horror we had lived through. Throughout the 18-month divorce, I learned to accept that nothing made sense to me and trying to comprehend what was happening was going to make me sicker. When the judge dismissed my concerns by stating he had “seen worse,” I knew my peace would not be found in the courts.

Shortly after receiving the evaluation, I found myself driving on a dirt road on the edge of town that was littered with discarded chairs and other household items. It was a road people were using as a private dump. This is where I walked my dog on a brutally cold night. I was shaking as the January freeze bit through my coat. I didn’t have any fight or hope left. It was then that I first experienced an unexplainable calm. As I was walking, I suddenly realized I was warm. The weeds in the field were sparkling in a way I had never seen before, and I had a sense that my pain was changing. Spiritual healing sounds crazy, but that is what it was.

It has been six years [editor’s note: now eight years] since my ex was required by law to leave the house. I am able to be the mother I always wanted to be. My daughters are thriving. We have trusting and healthy relationships. Our house is full of joy and hope. Leaving the abusive relationship was essential for my immediate health and safety, but healing from the deep wounds that motivated me to allow such abuse into my life was even more important and took more time.

I remember when I was standing in my living room in the middle of a severe spring storm. My backyard had flooded and the rain threatened to flood my basement. The strong winds were beating against the house, and roof tiles were ripped off and blowing in the wind. It sounded like the whole roof was being torn apart. It didn’t make sense, but I felt completely calm like I had felt on that frozen dirt road months before. Only God could take someone so overwhelmed with PTSD that I was shaking and could barely speak and instill such undeniable and unmovable peace. Throughout the divorce I had this sensation that I was being physically lifted up. It is almost impossible to describe, let alone understand, but somehow I knew something other than myself was holding me up. The world is and always will be broken, but my peace no longer relies on the stability of anything in this world. Everything I had worked so hard to build and hold together was torn apart. And only then did I find freedom.

Abuse happens among families of all backgrounds and income levels. More than 33% of South Dakota women will experience domestic abuse during their lifetimes. Shame, fear, self-doubt and hopelessness are common feelings experienced by domestic abuse survivors. Linn is proof that hope and faith can overcome these feelings.

To learn more about domestic abuse or to get help, please call the Shelter’s crisis line at 605.338.4880.