My jaw is radiating pain, especially on the left side.
I thought he was going to choke me, but he grabbed my face. He squeezed my jaw and chin with both hands until I thought my face might break. I tried to scream and begged him to stop, as I tried to pry his hands off of me. My son and daughter were sleeping. My son heard the noise and came running down the stairs. He stood between us and asked his dad to leave. His dad shot back, "You don't tell me to leave my own fucking house!" as he lunged at him and pushed him and shook his finger in his face. I begged him not to hurt him. My son started shaking and crying and said, “Dad, please just leave, please just leave. Promise me you won't hurt her. Just promise me you won't hurt her. Just promise, as he continued to try to block his father from where I was sitting on the sofa.
His dad kept pushing back and pacing. His face was dark. My son continued. “Dad, please just leave I'm sick of all of this yelling.” I asked my husband to please stop. I explained that he was upsetting the kids. He continued pacing and shouting. I was terrified that he was really going hurt me.
I ran for the phone. I dialed 911. My son tried to take the phone away. I guess he didn’t want his dad to be arrested. My instincts told me that I had to call. My husband hung up the phone. 911 called back. He told them very serenely and politely that his wife must have called. It’s amazing how quickly he can shift gears and be calm and charming. There was no trace of the violent anger that had been venting from him moments before.
He left me a few days ago and then changed his mind two days later. Friday morning he called me and asked me on a date. We had dinner together at an Italian restaurant. He mustered kindness. I felt like he was pretending. He explained that he still loves me. He said, “I should leave you, but I still love you” I thought to myself I’m scared of you and I don’t like you and I wish you had stayed away. But I smiled silently as he continued, “I know I’m a piece of shit to you sometimes, but I can’t stay away. I thought, “Yeah, I should have left you many times before, too.”
He massaged my foot under the table while we ate big plates of pescatore. We went home and he made love to me. It was tender and delicious. We made love again the next morning. It was frenzied and hot. He wanted to cum inside of me. I said no. I knew it wasn’t good timing for a baby.
We both tried to be pleasant in every way, but the mistrust and fear were not far under the surface. It doesn’t take much to come bursting out.
I set him off when I tried to look at his cell phone bill. He grabbed it from the mail pile and shoved it into his back pocket. I tried to take it from his back pocket and he grabbed my arm and squeezed it and told me to get the fuck away from him. I said, “What are you hiding?” He growled, “Nothing.” I said, “Then let me see it."He yelled, "No!" and pushed me again, which started a full out rant on his part.
He told me he was leaving me again. He told me that he wasn’t coming back. I said, ‘It’s our son’s birthday. How could you do this on his birthday? He said, “I went out to lunch with all of you. We gave him his gifts. I’m leaving.”
I let him leave and felt relieved—and guilty that I questioned him on our son’s birthday. I should have just let it slide. It was an automatic response. He hides credit card bills and his cell phone bill every month. He was lucky the bill came on a Saturday, so he could snatch it, although even if I bothered verifying what I suspected, it’s pointless. I’m not going to start calling other women to chase them away. Frankly, I feel sorry for anyone who might get involved with him. However, I’ll let them find out for themselves.
He’s great in bed, but he is an abusive asshole.
His hygiene is awful. He went four days without showering last week and he is about four months past needing a haircut. He shaves about once every 2-3 weeks and his toenails are long, green and stinky. He smokes heavily and his breath smells like a stale ashtray. Somehow despite his bad habits women find him sexy.
He is very tall, masculine and athletic with classically handsome facial features. He also has a deep voice and an obnoxious air that women find magnetic. He can also be extremely charming and funny. If you’re not careful though, if something sets him off—BEWARE!
As the cops were pulling up my husband yelled at me, “Yeah, go ahead you cunt have me arrested. Go ahead and lie and tell them that I beat you. Make marks on yourself so they will put me in jail.” I was thinking, “He’s so twisted.” I didn’t threaten to have him arrested. I just wanted him to leave so he didn’t hurt me or my kids.
My husband announced that he wouldn’t leave until after the cops came because he didn’t want to be chased. (I don’t think he would have been anyway.) He has a lot of respect for police officers out of fear. His past includes time a drug dealer--and he stole the bankroll from a pizza store when he was an assistant manager, which was wiped from his record after community service. He also lost his license for getting so many tickets when he was younger.
I’m sure he went outside and told them something awful about me, but I don’t care what he said. He is a fantastic actor. He pretended to be the calm, cool-headed sort with well-measured thoughts. He turned it around before they even came and made it seem like he didn’t lay a finger on me.
The other officer came into the kitchen with me and I was shaking and crying uncontrollably. The officer told me that he couldn’t ask my husband to leave since it was his house. He asked me if I had someplace to go. I said, “I guess my dad’s house.” He asked me if I had called the cops before for something like this. I said, No, which wasn’t exactly true. My dad called the cops once and neighbors have called them when we lived in other places. I explained that I always chose not to call them because I’m embarrassed. I also told him that after it happened I just pretended that it didn’t because it was too painful and I was ashamed of the truth. (I know that my neighbors have had to hear it in every place that we’ve ever lived. It keeps me from being very friendly with them or looking them in the eye.)
I explained that my husband had attended therapy for abusers two or three years ago. I said that he was remorseful for a short time, but went back to his old ways after he got kicked out for not showing up.
He told me that I should get a protection order on Monday. I told him that my therapist told me to do that before, but I was afraid to make him my enemy by doing that. If I just cooperate with him and do what he says it’s not as bad. I am afraid that if I do that he will become even more dangerous.
He didn’t want me to have a job or friends or to go out without him. He treated me like a prisoner.
The odd thing is that for 15 years I was completely faithful to him! If a man flirted with me, I never flirted back. I was a faithful, well-behaved, loving wife. I tried to be alluring and seductive. I know that I wasn’t perfect, but I tried to make him happy.
Three years ago, I turned thirty. I realized that I was getting older. I was unhappy. I was lonely.
He treated me like a dog that he barely tolerated, unless he wanted to fuck me. I began to wonder what it would be like to be with someone else--someone who was kind and gentle, honest and loving and fun—and even sexy.
Recently, I have flirted with infidelity a few times with men who I admired, but I was always too scared to leave him. I gave up chances at new beginnings because I allowed my fear of his reaction to stop me.
If I was sure that it was safe to leave him, that he wouldn’t become jealous and dangerous, I would have tried to make a new start. I was also unsure of the men who came into my life since I spent so long with a man who was devious and mean. I was afraid to trust anyone.
I’m still afraid. I’m so sick of being afraid. I’m sick of hiding. I want to live.
When my mom died suddenly last spring I realized that life is too short. We only get one chance. We should be happy.
My mom would want me to be in a healthy relationship. She would want me to grow and do positive things for myself and my children.
She’s not here to come rescue me anymore, but the fact remains that she wanted me to leave my marriage because she was afraid for me. She loved me. She loved her grandchildren. She hated our situation.
I have spent a lot of years with someone who makes me feel sad, who makes me so nervous sometimes that I feel like I’m going to throw up or I can’t sleep.
I feel extremely guilty that I chose to stay for so long. My kids have been exposed to a very ugly version of marriage. They are used to witnessing violent explosions. They are used to watching me try to defend myself or watching me try to tiptoe around setting him off.
I am desperate for warmth. I want to feel safe. I want my kids to feel safe.
I hope it’s not too late to set a good example for them. I love them with all of my heart and soul.