Since my 2013 wedding to Richard Lee Kodadek (DOB 01/03/1981), I have been struggling to recover from a traumatic brain injury I sustained as a result of that relationship. Granted, I did not know this is what I was struggling with until several years later. I was told repeatedly by many doctors, psychologists, psychiatrists, and my husband himself that I was “just” wrestling with depression, anxiety, and mood instability. The fact of the matter is that in a single day, my entire personality had changed and nobody close to me – not even Richard Kodadek – seemed to take notice.

My own husband should have noticed. He should have noticed that his once vivacious and socially-active wife now sat for hours in the same chair staring out the window. He should have noticed that I stopped… everything. I stopped cooking. I stopped cleaning. I stopped doing laundry. I stopped going to work or even looking for work. I stopped spending time with friends and family. I stopped going to church and other community activities. I stopped watching movies, reading books, or listening to music. I stopped smiling. Some days I stopped feeling anything at all and would burn my own skin in an attempt just to feel alive. He noticed none of these things, day after day for years and years.

Then in the summer of 2017 I was sexually assaulted by his friend Cole Mooridian while in Valley City babysitting for that sexual predator. Richard Kodadek decided about a month later that would be a good time to move out and abandon his seriously disabled spouse. This gets worse when you consider that when I married Richard in 2013, he was on Social Security Disability as his only legitimate source of income because he had such severe asthma that he was unable to work. Now that I was unable to consistently bring home a paycheck, he had decided I was no longer worth staying with.

Well, it is time for me to finally say “fuck him” to Richard Kodadek. He beat me. He strangled me. He abandoned me and literally left me for dead more times than I can count. Part of me has been ashamed to admit that I “tolerated” his abuse for so many years. However, with the blessing of time I have come to learn that I am not alone. I have learned that I am lucky to be alive. I am inspired to speak up about domestic violence because so many women do not get to leave their abusive relationship and continue to live afterwards.

Every day is a struggle. He gave me permanent nerve damage. He gave me Post Traumatic Stress. He raped me. He abused me. He strangled me. He damaged my body so badly that I now struggle to complete activities of daily living. He knocked me so much further than I have ever been down before.

Now I am ready to get back up.