We had a crazy weekend here at home. It all started on Saturday morning when I woke up around 7:30 AM.

Suzy and Jaiden were up already. I was still in bed. I heard Suzy start crying really loudly downstairs and I heard her being spanked.

I have PTSD and spanking is a trigger for me. I don't like to spank my kids. I never have. It's something that we have talked about multiple times.

At one point, we actually had to meet with CYS (Children and Youth Services) and they reminded him that he has permission to spank the kids - but that he can't leave a mark.

I guess what I mean is that this was not a new issue for us. He already knows that I have a problem with this happening.

So, when I go downstairs, I know that he has spanked them and I'm not happy. I tried to pretend it didn't bother me but I was upset.

Around 11 AM, my daughters shirt came up and I noticed a huge hand print on her bottom. I could see the outline of the hand and I was livid.

I wanted to take a picture but I knew I couldn't. He has had my phone for almost the last month because his broke. Which is fine. It's not like I mind sharing my phone.

The problem with that, though, was that he didn't even bother to ask. And when I would bring it up, he would tell me that most spouses (Yeah, we aren't even married...) should be glad to help their partner out by sharing their phone with them.

Besides, I don't leave to go to work, so why do I really need a phone?

Which is bullshit. I need a phone because I want a phone. And, because the phone he took from me, was my phone. I pay the bill on it and at the end of the day, it's my phone. Why should I even need to explain that?

So, like I said, I couldn't even take a picture. Even though I really wanted to document the fact that Suzy was being spanked again when I asked that it not happen.

He let me take the car (which is my car - again - by the way) and go to the store to get cigarettes. Which I did. Then, I drove to Wal-Mart.

I had just gotten paid and I had my paycheck on my card. I ran into Wal-Mart and I bought myself a cheap phone. I then sat in the parking lot and activated it.

I called my therapist at the shelter and told her what happened and I was really upset. She recommended that I go back home and get the kids.

I told her that wasn't happening. That if I go back, there isn't a way for me to get back out again.

She called the state police (we live in a rural area) and they said they would meet me at my house.

I rushed over there and the police turned down my street and went right past our house. I had to follow them and flag them down to get them to turn around.

We go back to my house and the police are telling him that we need to separate and cool off. They let him know I'll be leaving with the kids.

Of course, he has my son fresh out of the shower and says we were just getting ready to take the kids to see Santa.

The whole time, he keeps saying that I should have communicated with him and told him how I was feeling. I told him I couldn't. Every-time I try to have a conversation and communicate with him; he shuts down and won't talk to me.

NOTHING ever really gets resolved.

I think things will be fine. I'll get the kids ready and we will be off.

Turns out, there wasn't a warrant for my arrest for a failure to appear over a parking ticket of all things. The police say if I can pay $135 dollars right then I will be free to get in the car and leave.

I made a split second decision. I didn't want the kids to miss out on seeing Santa but I really needed a break. Plus, he always said if I took the car he would't be able to get around.

I told the police to go ahead and take me into custody. Even though I had the money, I just wanted to get away right in that moment. It might not have been the best decision but it worked for me.

The officer took me to meet the officer from the county where the fine was due. The put handcuffs on me and placed me into the car. My one regret is that the kids had to see me that way.

The officer picked me up and took me to the ATM to get the money.

I made up my mind that I was going to rent a hotel room alone for the night. I thought it might be pretty relaxing to spend a whole night by myself. It's not something that I usually get to do.

When I took the money from the ATM - I forgot to get my car. The ATM must have sucked it back in but I didn't notice until later.

The officer let me make a call and I reached out to my Grandmother. She basically told me that I only reach out to her when I need something. It really hurt my feelings because I was hoping that at least one of my family members would be understanding.

I get it. I understand why my family gets upset that I don't keep in touch. They don't understand my life, though. They don't understand that I have no control over what happens. It feels like he runs everything and I don't ever get to make a decision.

So, after all that, at the end of the day - I ended up calling him to come and pick me up. I didn't have the money for a hotel and no place to go.

I'm not even allowed at the shelter again unless there is a violent incident at home. I've just cried wolf to many times for people to even believe me.

Story of my life...