How My Journey Began

I have decided that I wanted to start up this blog again, for friends, and family to see what Ive gone through. I realize its going to be more helpful for even me. If you are reading this, and you are newer into my life than five years- this is my story. I’m going to try and break it down into sort of “chapters”. Its a long story, and Its a harder one for me write.

Matthew.

I met Matt when I was working at a coffee shop, and it was a whirl wind. He liked me, he was a bad boy with his own apartment. He smoked, and cursed, was so handsome, and he liked me. He actually liked me! I think I was just so infatuated with the idea that someone liked me, more than if this man was right for me. But we fell in love, and the man loved me enough to kick his party roommates out of his house, clean up his act for me to come and move in with him. This was about six months into our relationship. I moved in on July 1st, and on July 13th I found out that I was pregnant. I was terrified. What would my mom say? I was 20 and pregnant with a boy that I had only been dating for six months. I had barely moved in with him. I wasn’t even thinking about becoming a mother!! I eventually came to terms with this idea, and so did he.
     That October Matt purposed to me, and we decided we would get married after I had the baby. I wanted to make sure I was making the right decision. I didn’t want to get married because I was pregnant. I wanted to get married because I was in love with him.
 

Ryan

March 13th 2007 I became a mom. It was the scariest and happiest moment of my life. He completely changed how I viewed the simplest of things. To go from only really worring about yourself, to never ever putting yourself first again was the easiest weirdest transition I’ve ever had. And I immediately loved my mother a billion times more, and realised how much she really loved me and my brothers.
   Matt loved Ryan, but I could tell things were off. I always put Ryans first few months in the brain bank that stays dark. Those memories that are always there, but you never want to remember. Matt worked nights, and would get home around 1am. Or so. He would stay up too late, and would never wake up to take care of Ryan the next day while I was at work. I would come home on my lunch hour around 11:30 or noon, and Ryan would still be in his crib, completely soaked through in his diaper, and starving. But that boy would still have a HUGE smile on his face. Such a happy little boy. As Ryan got older, and “easier” to take care of, Matt did “better” But it was always evident to me that Ryan was kept at an arms length with Matt. I never understood it. I just thought Ryan was a mommas boy, and Matt just wasn’t that devoted doting father. He still sort of provided for us. I don’t know.

Lilly

February 1st 2012 Lilly was born and that little girl stole her daddies heart. She loved him so much, and her eyes would absolutely light up when she saw him. He transformed into this amazing man. He got a better job, spent more time with Ryan and Lilly, took better care of me and my needs. We moved into an adorable house in Garden City, Ryan was in kindergarten, and Lilly was just starting to walk. I was cooking every night, I was happy. Truly happy. I hadn’t really been for so so many years. But I knew this was my wonderful life and family. I was so happy to be Matts wife. He was my best friend, and he was a great dad. And then it was like my entire life was picked up, thrown against a wall and beaten with a baseball bat.

January 21st 2013

I remember the night before, I was on Pinterest looking up some fun recipes for Lilly’s first birthday that was a few weeks away. I was snuggled up against Matt with a blanket, both kids were asleep and we were laughing and content. It was a Wednesday, and I had a doctors appointment. I wanted to talk about how I’m not sleeping at night, and I was so overweight, and wanted to look at getting some weight loss help. While waiting for the doctor to come in, my phone rang. It was an unknown number. (I barely answer phone calls from people I know, much less a blocked number) So I declined the call.
   They left a voicemail. It was a dedective. He said “Mrs. Matysek, this is Dedectve Brumbaugh with the Garden City Police department, Please call me as soon as you can.”
   The only business I have in Garden City was my home. Had something happened to it? Matt was off that day, and he was with Lilly. Were they ok? I called Matt multiple times and he wasn’t answering. I started to panic.
   The doctor came in, and I told her what had happened, and that if my phone rang I needed to answer it. Matt called me, and was upset. I could hear in the tone of his voice that something was wrong. The police had shown up with the health and welfare department. They were taking pictures of the fridge, the pantry, our room and the kids rooms. They told Matt that he needed to call someone to get the kids, or they would have to take them in. He called my mother. I didn’t understand why this was happening. My home was clean. My kids were fed. I never beat them. I of course would spank Ryan, but why all this? Matt told me that the dedective that was there wanted to speak to me. Dedective Brumbaugh let me know that Ryan was still at school, but that they needed to meet with me. I was aloud to go and pick Ryan up, and that they would meet me there at his school.
   I hung up the phone, and just stared at my hands. For a moment I forgot that I was still sitting in the doctors presence. She very quietly and slowing looked up from her pad, and said, “Brianna, I just have to say, they usually never immediately pull children out of a home unless they feel they are in immediate danger or there are allegations of sexual abuse.” Those words always ring in my head.
   I told her well, there is no way of either of those. She prescribed me my medications, hugged me, and I drove towards Ryans school. I was shaking so violently the entire time. I couldn’t call my mom.  I couldn’t call anyone. I didn’t think my voice would work. I was terrified that I was driving toward my own incarceration. Why do they want to talk to me? Why are they meeting me at the school? None of this made any sense. I am a yeller. Maybe a neighbor had heard me yelling at Matt or Ryan. Maybe this was all because of me. I thought I was going to puke. I wasn’t sure I could walk up to the school office. But I did. I shakily opened the front doors and saw an officer, a dedective, and another woman sitting on the bench. Their faces were down. I turned the corner and walked into the office and let them know I was picking Ryan up from school. The woman behind the desks face went white, and rushed out of there. As I was waiting for Ryan, I turned and saw the dedective standing there, his tablet showing my drivers liscense picture zoomed in. He wanted to make sure he was about to talk to the right person. My heart went into my gut.
  “Brianna?” He said quietly. “Yes” I squeaked. “They are getting Ryan for you, and we need you to follow us to the Garden City Police Departement. I will be in front of you, and my officer will be behind you. Please do not start asking Ryan why we are here, and what happened today at school. If he offers you any information, please keep it calm, and act as everything is normal.”
   All I could do was shake my head in agreement.
  Here came Ryan with his giant smile. And I became and actress.

  I followed the dedective, and his officer followed behind me. I was so sick to my stomach. Looking back at this moment, I don’t remember why I didn’t try and call my mom. She could have given me some information. I don’t know why I didn’t try and call Matt, my husband. It was as if I deep down knew that I wasn’t supposed to. I think I was trapped in my head, and really wanted to listen to the officers. 

When we got into the police station they asked if they could hang out with Ryan in the lobby and give him some snacks while the dedective spoke to me. Well duh. What safer place to leave my son right? So I agreed. The dedective told me that my mom was on her way with Lilly.

What? 

If I was in trouble, she wouldn’t be coming with my daughter would she? But why was I at the police station and not Matt? Were they going to have my mother take me into a room and beat me into oblivion? Because lets be real, thats slightly more terrifying than going to jail.

I kid of course, because humor is my scapegoat.

The dedective walked me into a small room that had three chairs and a small table. In the top corner of the room facing me, was a camera. I was literally in an interrogation room. I was going to either puke or pass out.

The dedective introduced me to the woman that was now sitting down with me, and her name was Brianne. He let me know that she had interviewed Ryan at school today, and the reason we were sitting there is he has reason to believe that Ryan has been “Physically or sexually abused.” Insert loooong pause. “By his father Matthew.”

WHAT

I immediately said “Which one is it. Physically or sexually.”

The dedective voice when quiet. “Sexually.”

At this moment my brain started to do this weird thing. It fizzled and popped. It began to do its shut down. It began to lose what made sense in its tiny world.

I know the dedective told me more details, I asked more questions, I started to cry. I don’t remember a lot of this conversation. He told me that Ryan was doing something at school that a school Duty saw, questioned where in the world he learned to do that, and he responded “My daddy does this to me” And the ball began to roll. Health and welfare was called, the interviewed Ryan, and then the police. Now we are here.

A small knock at the door, and when it opened, there was my moms puffy eyed face. I absolutely lost it. She wrapped her arms around me and I bawled. I know we spoke, but again, I have lost a lot of the details of these moments. She sat there and held my hand, watched my mascara running down my face. Watched her adult daughter start to fall apart, and lose her world. I cannot imagine the amount of pain this caused my mom watching her daughter go through this much pain. They told us that she had to take my kids, and the next day we had to go to an “interview” where they would examine and speak to Ryan. I needed to go home and pretend that I didn’t know what was going on, and who was to blame. I had to go home without my children, to my husband, who is potentially a sexual abuser of my first born, and act like I didn’t know what was going on.

OOOOk.

It was actually a lot easier than I thought it would be. He was the one freaking out. I was the one shutting down. He kept asking me, “What did they say to you? I feel like you’re not telling me the entire truth.” But I could just stare at him and he would turn to his mom and keep talking. He knew what was happening. I felt like I wasn’t really there. I had hope that it was all going to be a misunderstanding. This interview was going to determine it.

The next day was the result of an ice storm. It was so cold, and you could hear cars just spinning on the street. Somehow my little bug was able to drive to McDonald’s where I met my mom with the kids for lunch. I couldn’t eat. This was the beginning of my 70 pound weight loss.

We went to this interview, and they pulled me into this room. I was sitting there with 5 or more people where they told me “We believe without a shadow of a doubt Matthew has been hurting Ryan. And he is on his way to the police station for questioning right now.”

What?

Ladies and gentleman this is where my brain did its final pop. They had to get my mom in the room. I shut down. I yelled. I hit the table. I went silent and stared at my hands. They had to speak to my mom, and tell her what the plans were, and what I was aloud to do. They told my mom what the next steps were. If they had told me, they would have told an empty shell. I spent the next few days at my moms house. I couldn’t bear to go home.

Trying to make a long story slightly shorter, Matt was sentenced for his crimes against Ryan, but they were minimal and it was plead down to a felony injury to a child. He was later convicted of 10 felony counts of child pornography, and was sentenced to ten years. He will have to register as an offender. 

Of course there is more to my journey, and I will discuss them on here. About the trails of Ryan, and of Lilly. Both very different but equal. I will try and discuss mine, but I want to try and show how every single emotion can exist in this. I had to mourn my friendship, my love, and my marriage. I had to mourn the innocents of my little boy I tried so hard to protect. I had to mourn my cute perfect little life. I had to mourn the Brianna that once existed. The Brianna that was afraid to do things on her own, and of monsters under her bed. Her monsters literally slept in them with her.