If you'd told me 17 years ago I'd end up a victim of domestic violence I would have said you were crazy. IF you'd told me a year ago I'd end up a victim of domestic violence I would have said you were crazy. Something like that would never happen to me. Well folks, guess what, it did.
11 days ago to be exact. We've been separated for over 5 months now. He lived for 2 of those with the woman that led to our separation. And I, after 5 months went on a date *gasp*.
He's been on a downward spiral for months. Even while living with her, he would call me up and scream and make crazy accusations about me and a friend of mine. It had gotten to the point, I refused to communicate in any way except for texting. Then Barbie Jr. became sick and was hospitalized, my dad had already been hospitalized for some time and all around the same time as he moved out of her house.
We were able to communicate once again. We'd had numerous conversations over the months of separation about why I would not take him back. His argument? "Well, you won't give me another chance but you are willing to give some guy down the road a chance." Dude, your argument doesn't even make sense. Do we need to list the 101 ways you put me through hell?
Then he began hanging around the house more, usually either doing some sort of repair (which are his responsibilities) or spending time with the girl. When I would make him leave it would spark another crazy outburst. And looking back, I realize, I was scared. I knew he was unstable, so it was easier to let him hang around to keep the peace. It began taking a toll on me, causing trouble between me and my family, so I began creating reasons he couldn't be here. And of course the crazy accusations began and he started getting what I would say was somewhat controlling. Would want to know where we'd been, why we were there, etc. And didn't like it when I would tell him it really wasn't any of his business. When he would bring her home, he would come to see what I was doing on the computer, if I got a text he would try and see who it was from. He went to the extreme of trying to access my facebook from our daughter's and became irate when he didn't know the password. So he created his own, and got furious when I wouldn't add him as a friend. That was the night of my date.
He began texting me at some point and my guess is, when I didn't respond he came looking for me. My date came from out of town so I drove and met him where he was staying. As I approached my car afterwards my ex came out of nowhere and was shouting at me, demanding to know who I had been with. I wouldn't respond so he punched me in the jaw as I got into the car. He took off running through the parking lot and when I tried to pull out he stepped in front of my car. I rolled down the window, told him to get out of my way and he came, grabbed me by the neck and screaming at me. At some point he had me by the hair of the head and bounced my head off the steering wheel and the next thing I knew, I could see him raring back to head butt me. I was so dazed I couldn't even think to move to avoid that one. The look in his eyes terrifies me to this day.
I was in such a daze and so ashamed, I didn't tell anyone right away. And at the time, the details were even fuzzy of what he had done. It wasn't until that night, when every noise I heard I thought was him coming to get me, I realized what he had done. The next day at work, knowing I was safe, I broke down and told what had happened to me. It was then that a friend pointed out my jaw was swollen where he had punched me. So we headed to the ER. Details were still somewhat unclear, they still are today. Luckily, I had no broken bones. Only a swollen and bruised jaw and a concussion. From there I filed a police report.
I lost 6 pounds in 5 days. He dodged being served and I was terrified. Terrified he would come after me. Terrified he would try and take the girl and run. Terrified to be alone. It was horrible. When I realized he had turned himself in and had my Protective Order in hand I could breathe again. But I'm still scared. He's one of the "if I can't have her nobody will" types. And they are very scary.
He's gone around admitting to "only head butting me", and now refers to me as Barbie Jr.'s so-called mother. It makes me angry, but at the same time, I know what a damn good job I've done as a mom. I've taken my duty as a mother seriously for 8 1/2 years. He's taken his duty as a father seriously for 5 1/2 months. I've sheltered her as much as I can from his drug addiction, alcohol addiction, porn addiction, etc. I've been the one trying to hold us together for 12 years. Of course he wouldn't be asshat if he didn't try and play the victim. He wants to tell everyone how he hasn't seen his child in almost 2 weeks because her so-called mother won't allow him to. I'm sure he doesn't tell them it's because he beat the hell out of her mother?
I've realized in the past few months that I allowed myself to be unhappy for years, for the sake of trying to salvage something that was long gone. For the first time in 17 years I am happy. Genuinely happy. Now when I smile, it's real. I no longer smile through the pain.
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