Almost 2 years ago, I lost my best friend since 3rd grade. This wasn't from my choice, it was his. We were getting a divorce because I got tired of his drinking. It was becoming more important than me and the kids.
When Robert was about 2 years old is when he started accusing me of cheating on him. He used to work over nights at WalMart. One morning he came home and didn't go to bed. Instead he decided to drink with our neighbor. When he finally came home and fell asleep on the couch, it was almost noon. Jonathan came down with a fever. We were out of medicine, so I needed to call my mom for help to get more. When I tried to wake him to unlock his phone so I could use it, it was obviously a hard thing to do. He got mad at me. When I tried again and explained the problem, he jumped off the couch, threw his phone at the wall and started yelling at me. "I'm tired of this shit!! It goes both ways! You can't have it both ways anymore!" is all I can remember him saying. He then came towards me and grabbed me by my upper arms and started pushing me. "I'll push you right off the God damn patio if I have to..." and he started to push me backwards towards the sliding glass door. I was able to wiggle away and I grabbed Kelly and Robert and locked us in our bedroom. (Jonathan was already in there sleeping since he was sick) I believe it took about an hour for him to calm down and waking up enough to realize what had happened and he finally let me use the phone to call my mom.
About a month or so later, he went on another drinking "binge" of sorts with the neighbor. When it got dark and cold out, I told him he needed to come in or at least get his jacket. Instead of doing either, he put on the neighbors daughters jacket. No need to explain how I felt about that one. So I took his jacket, threw it out the door and locked him out. When he came pounding on the door, 20 minutes or so later, needless to say he was pretty pissed. Fine, so was I. Hurt is actually more like it. He started yelling at me again. Getting in my face and yelling and accusing me again. I told him I was going to call the police if he didn't stop, but he kept going. So I dialed.... his mom. (She lived across the street at the time and I figured they could get to me faster.) I acted like I had called the cops and she caught on pretty quick. She told me she would call back to talk to him. So I hung up the phone and she called back. He wouldn't let me answer and he wouldn't answer. But when it kept ringing, he got even more angry and punched the phone off the wall breaking 2 of the mugs hanging on the wall. The result was a nice cut and a broken knuckle.
Years went by after that without any problems. It wasn't until our youngest was born that the anger came back. He was playing music through the PlayStation one night in our room. I got a phone call and so I muted the tv while I took the call. He was sitting on the floor next to me doing something with one of his knives. Apparently, muting the tv was a big no no because he stabbed me in the bottom of my foot. Thank God I was wearing my shoes....
A little bit after that, the accusing just got worse and worse. One time, he got so mad at me for nothing, seriously, it was nothing because I wasn't even in the house at the time. He had gotten so angry at me, that he yanked the phone cord out of the wall breaking the cord. Consequence: After he sobered up, he had to buy us an entirely new phone....
After being accused of it for so many years, yes, I did give in and cheat on him. I was very vulnerable. I had just lost my mom and given birth to my youngest. He didn't pay much attention to me anymore. I felt like a live in maid, babysitter and fuck doll. No compliments, nothing. So when a guy I knew started paying attention to me and told me I was beautiful, it stirred something inside of me I hadn't felt in such a long time. He made me feel like my husband used to make me feel. One thing led to another, I kept getting pushed away, and so I took the guy up on the offer to come to his house. I had sex with him once, but the damage had been done. When I finally told him everything after basically being caught, my heart broke into a million pieces. We had a big fight one night after that where he called me every name in the book. "Two timing cunt whore" is the one I remember the most....
When I had my hysterectomy, we tried to make it work. See, we still loved each other dearly. But then, we got evicted and had to move in with his mom and my brother. It was pure hell living there. All 5 of us had to sleep in their living room. No privacy. Our stuff was stored in the boys room and the boys would go through our stuff whenever they wanted to. Stress levels were out of control. So one night I asked Jason to come get us for the night. I called him and told him that we were going to go there for the night. He asked if he needed to come home, but I told him no, I could handle this. We need the money to try and get our own place again. So guess what came out of his mouth next? "You're just going to take the kids there and leave them while you go fuck somebody." REALLY?!?! That was the beginning of the end for me....
