as i drove to work this morning, i realized that as adamant as i am against domestic abuse and domestic violence, i haven't explained why, and i haven't posted information about resources to contact if you are in such a situation.
i left a relationship that lasted seven years. i had a child with my abuser. like many other women, i thought sticking around and hoping for change would actually bring it about. like many other women, i was without the resources to take off on my own. like many other women, i was resigned to my lot in life.
i should have left when, an ex girlfriend flew out from california to see him graduate and was heartbroken that i had a problem with them hanging out alone together. (she would call at odd hours of the night 'just to talk', she'd send 'i love you' letters to him - red flag number one!).
a few months into us living together at his parents (red flag number two!), he'd grabbed my shirt collar during an argument when we were driving back. i made the half-assed attempt to leave on a couple of occasions, but he seemed so heartbroken. he sobbed, he cried, he told me he didn't want me to go. we made up, and moved on. sort of.
not long after that, a family member he was very close to died. he was beside himself. it was a very sad time for his family. we had an argument that escalated into him grabbing me by my shirt and slamming me up against the bedroom wall, only to be let go because his mother came upstairs to break up the fight. (red flag number four!) no one spoke of the incident after that; no one told him he was wrong for doing it, and no one asked me if i was okay.
and yet, i *still* didn't leave.
we moved into an apartment together in the winter of that year; he had a shitty job that paid him whenever the boss had money. he drank a lot with his druggie loser friend (red flag number five!), and our fights got worse.
during one argument, he threw me to the bed and punched me in the head a number of times before leaving to go out drinking.
another time, he was so angry during an argument that he punched his fist through the door to our apartment. (red flag number six!)it was a wood door; the pieces were all over the place. and when he left, i sat there sobbing, gluing them back together so the landlady wouldn't know what happened.
he always yelled and got into my face. he'd get as close as he could while he was yelling, and sometimes he'd push me backwards. looking back, i think it was to watch the expression of fear on my face as i'd fall.
the next summer rolled around, and he got a job offer in the boston area. we found a place to live, and on moving day, his sister and brother-in-law-to-be came over to help us. it was a hot summer day, and he was pissy. at one point during the trek back and forth to the moving truck, i got locked out of the house. he will say it was by mistake, but we were arguing, and i know otherwise. i pounded on the door repeatedly to be let in. his sister and b.i.l. were in the apartment. the door suddenly flew open, and before i knew it, his angry face was the last i saw before ending up upside-down at the bottom of the stairwell. he says i 'fell'. there was a large landing at the top of our stairs, and i'm not 'clumsy'. he pushed me. i hit my spine several times on the way down, and limped around the rest of the day.
his sister and brother in law said nothing to him. they didn't ask me if i was okay.
and still, i went with him. and when we went to his sister's wedding the following weekend, i wore a sleeveless open-backed dress. his father asked me what happened to my arms, and i lied.
i got a job almost right away in our new town, and went to work with bruises all over my arms and back, wearing long sleeves during those weeks of summer.
he went through several job changes over the time we lived in that area; he signed up for adult sex personal ads, he wrote emails to his ex from california, and continued to push and yell at me.
and, without solicitation, someone stepped into my life unexpectedly, and it was a brief interlude of complete happiness. i stepped out of the relationship i was in to be with this person. he knew i was in a turbulent relationship, he knew there was abuse. he pursued me anyway, and i didn't care. it was brief, and intense, and over just as quickly as it started, because my ex was snooping through my drawers and found a journal entry i'd written. he pressed me for the guy's name. he called and left threatening messages on his answering machine. not surprisingly, the guy didn't want any involvement with me after that.
one day, at work, my ex stopped in and gave me my car keys. we lived close enough to where i worked that i walked. so i thought it strange that he'd bring them by. at the end of my shift, no less. so when i walked outside to my car, i saw everything i owned packed into it, including my dog. he'd spent the evening cleaning out our apartment.
i moved in with a woman i worked with, but two weeks later he called me to say he really wanted me back. that he'd made a mistake. that he was sorry for what he did, and he didn't want to lose me. so we met a few times, and it seemed okay.
and then, i moved back in.
there was a period of calm for a while, along with another job change for him. then his loser druggie friend came along. he wanted to stay with us for a 'couple of weeks' while he 'looked for a job'. at the time this happened, i was between jobs, but i reluctantly agreed. he stayed four months, racked up all our bills, and our arguments escalated until i kicked the loser out. i thought that not having him there would make things better; there was no source of tension to instigate things.
i was wrong.
i found a great job a month or so after the deadbeat left, and a week into the job, found out i was pregnant. because of our relationship, and how awful it had been, and because i'd just gotten a job and didn't want to jeopardize it, i made the decision to call a clinic. i'd made an appointment, even. it was walking distance from the apartment. i called him to tell him i'd decided, and he pleaded with me not to. and so, despite everything i should have learned already, i went along with his wishes.
pregnancy was okay, but arguments were still heated. he pushed me a couple of times, but was not as violent as he had been.
when our child was born, he decided he didn't like his current job anymore. he sent out his resume. he got a job offer from maine, and the first interview he had, they offered him the job, and he took it. so when our daughter was two months old, we packed up and moved to maine.
life did not get better. in our first apartment in maine, he threw things at me. he went back to looking at porn. he went out drinking when we had no money. he spent money on things we couldn't afford and then would get angry at me when i'd talk to him about bills. during one argument, i was carrying the baby, and he threw a glass of juice at me. it only barely missed, and he said he wasn't trying to hit me.
he locked me out of our apartment once in the winter. i had no coat or shoes on. the only saving grace for me that day was that the neighbors who lived below us were coming home, and i told him that they'd hear me yelling and i'd ask them to call the police. for some odd reason during that argument, he cried again. sobbing, he told me he was sorry, that he didn't want to lose me. the same bullshit.
we moved in with a guy he worked with after a year at the first place; thinking it would save us money and we'd be in a place where he couldn't be the way he'd been, i hoped there would be some change. there wasn't. by that time, i'd been working nights for a telemarketing company so that i could stay home in the day with our daughter. we'd switch off when he came home from work. on occasion, my friends would invite me out for a beer, but i was never allowed to go. yet, he would go out all the time. that double edged sword thing and all.
he only got violent with me once there; he was angry with me about something, and pushed me out of the bedroom doorway so hard, i fell backward across the hall into our roommate's door. it was locked. i hit it so hard it swung open.
not long after, the roomie got a girlfriend and ditched us, so we had to move *again*. it was the last apartment i'd live in with him. we had plenty of arguments, but the violence didn't escalate again until i left him.
i got sick of being made to feel guilty whenever i wanted to go out with my friends. i got sick of pretending to our friends and his family that things were okay. i got sick of catching him looking at pornography (sometimes while at home babysitting our child). i got sick of finding out he was emailing and calling exes. i got sick of *him*. and i sat him down, and told him i couldn't do it anymore. and i thought then that the hell was over, but i was wrong.
he tried to choke me when our daughter was on my lap. he pushed me out of our apartment while my daughter looked on, screaming hysterically. my heart rips to *shreds* when i think about that day. he only let me back in because she was screaming, and he couldn't calm her down. when i took her to leave (we were supposed to go to my parents), he wanted me to hug him. i told him that he would never put his hands on me again. he took my iced coffee when i had turned my back, and threw it full force at my back. thankfully the window to the seat my daughter was in was closed, but i drove to my parents house soaked in coffee, and had to clean out the car.
two weeks after i left him, he served me with paperwork for custody of our daughter. four years later, i have full custody of her, and he's trying to squeeze himself out of paying child support. i had to file an order of protection against him at the beginning of the process, because he'd follow me to work, harass me, threaten me, and he'd do it with my daughter in his arms.
today, he's still the same pathetic loser. he did the same thing to the woman after me, and she left him. he's changed jobs and living situations multiple times. he's married now, to a girl he looked up when he and i were together. they're living in stupid bliss together, and have procreated.
he continues to taunt harass and abuse. the catalyst for this entry was this paragraph:
Domestic abuse, also known as spousal abuse, occurs when one person in an intimate relationship or marriage tries to dominate and control the other person. An abuser doesn’t “play fair.” He uses fear, guilt, shame, and intimidation to wear you down and gain complete power over you. He may threaten you, hurt you, or hurt those around you. Domestic abuse that includes physical violence is called domestic violence.
http://www.helpguide.org/mental/domestic_violence_abuse_types_signs_causes_effects.htm
i *still* experience domestic abuse, and we're not even together anymore. he uses our child as a pawn, manipulating her, threatening and taunting me, and playing off the sympathy of those around him too blind to see him for what he is.
if you are experiencing domestic violence or abuse, you need to get out. having a child shouldn't keep you where you are.
you should call the National Domestic Violence Hotline for help; there are resources out there. It's not easy, but it can be done.
http://www.ndvh.org/
I sincerely hope that my story helps *someone* some day. I haven't gone through what I have in vain; I have a beautiful intelligent daughter who will grow up to be something spectacular, and her father will have missed out on all of it because of his obsession with making my life miserable. If you're with someone like this loser, make the decision to end it. It could very well be the best decision you ever make.
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