Facing reality

21 years old, 2 months married, 8 months pregnant.

At some point you have to face reality. You also have to accept it.

I really am much smarter than this. I knew things would never change, that he would always break his promises. I would never live the life that I want to with my husband. He will never be able to fulfill my needs.

Oh, how I believed him when he said he wanted the same things. That we shared the same dreams and yet, I couldn’t hear my own advice: ACTION SPEAKS LOUDER THAN WORDS! Always have, always will.

All I want is to share my life worth someone who can be totally fulfilled by having a simple life, even if all he has is h is kids and his wife. I just want to raise my children and be totally indulged with them. That’s all I need…that’s all I want.

My husband will always need the party life, the “high” life. He can be a good man, but he is weaker than meets the eye. A strong man is the one who leaves his past there and doesn’t pleasure in the indulgences of his youth because he not only has responsibilities, but also has his fatherhood and would not dare to compromise that in anyway. He’s almost 10 years older than me for God’s sake. Why do I get it but he doesn’t?

I love my husband dearly. Much more than he has ever loved me if his actions are any indication.

Love lost

I always thought love was to supposed to make the difference in feeling lost and feeling at home. So when you feel completely lost in your home, I guess the logical explanation of whats missing is, love.

Im not even a month married, seven months pregnant and not only am I lost, I’m hopeless. I’ve arrived at this conclusion.

How can someone look you in the eye one night and take you in his arms and say, ” I don’t know what I’d do without you” and the next get completely wasted and not give a shit about you or the child you carry.

I hate him in this moment.

Hehas betrayed me one time too many. I will not subject these children to this. The choices he makes to fuck up his own life are fine, but now he is fucking up his family as well. Children deserve so much better.

I just spent 15 minutes in the bathroom voming, which I”m sure i not very healthy for this baby boy I’m carrying. My nerves are completely shot.

Where is my husband? Downing another beer.

What if I needed to go to the hospital?

How many times do you let someone break your heart? How many vows have been broken when it becomes habitual and you become totally disregarded.

I am about to hit an all time low with no medication and no help and have to pull myself up … alone.

It’s 2:23 a.m.

We’re alone.

I hope it’s worth it. It hurts to think that the bottle of the party is worth more than Pickle, the baby and myself.

I sincerely hope the kids never have that same thought.

God has blessed us and my husband is making a mockery of it. I hope his ungratefulness and pride will not hinder the rest us. I guess I should be thankful that he is a God of mercy. God please take mercy on us.

I want my husband. Here, at home, in every sense. The boys need their Daddy 100%. I think sometimes that maybe he and I are not as connected as I believe. Why is it so good when we’re good and then just so terribly fucked up when it’s bad? I wonder if I’ve absorbed the potential of the man he could be instead of facing reality.

He can be a good man, with an awesome heart, but he is also a gorwn man who cannot break an addivtion and will not reach our and get the help he needs, for his own sake or even for ours.

I love this mand and more than anything I want us to have a family together. A strong family. But I’m not holding the cards right not.

Baby, please … come home to us. For Good. We need you.

Somethings never change

Sticking to form … I’m 21 years old, 1 week married and 6 months pregnant.

It’s after 1 am, I’m alone and my heart is breaking. My eyes are red and swollen. I’m emotionally exhausted but too disturbed to sleep.

My dearest husband worked his first full day at his new job today. The job that is supposed to change out lives, get us out of here, make things better for our “family”.

He got off work at 5pm and got home at 6:30 … with beer. He let his disappointment of there not being any dinner prepared be known. I told him that I had really missed him and had looked forward to seeing him all afternoon, to please not start in on me. I told him that Pickle really wanted Taco Bell for dinner and I thought I’d pick some up and he could get a sub or whatever else it was he wanted after his first day. He said, “Well you need to order my sub and go pick it up. I’m not going out anywhere.” Crack opens first beer. But after he finished off the six pack he had brought home, he was more than willing to run to the store.

I told him I would just go to bed if he was planning to continue to drink simply to avoid another “episode”. When he asked if I wanted anything, I was truthful. I told him “Yes. My husband cuddled up with me on the couch watching a movie without needing a beer to survive.” He told me he would be right back. That was at 9:35.

I got Pickle settled into bed and shortly before he fell asleep he tells me that his “Mommy” made him sad. This time he says “Mommy says bad words and Daddy a motherfucker”. I really would rather that he talk to his Dad about this, but of course, he wasn’t here.

At 10:50, he strolls in with another six pack under his arm and says, “Don’t be mad, baby.” And the story comes. He ran into his brother at the store. He was on his way to work at the bar and told husband to stop up for a little bit so he could buy him a drink. So he went and bullshits with his brothers. He said he watched JBob patrolling by the bar and all the girls were grabbing his ass. “Man,” he said in admiration.

Fine. Great, but in the meantime, you told you spanking new, pregnant wife that you’d be right back and she also told you exactly what she wanted and not only did you ignore that, but you had her worried because you had already drank a six pack and were gone for over an hour on a beer run that typically takes less than 10 minutes in a vehicle with no insurance.

So? I guess I can’t ever hand out with my brothers?” (HELLO?!?) He leaves the room and comes back and approached me on his knees. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to hang with my brothers for a little bit. I didn’t want to look like a pussy.” He told me that me and his family were most important. I wanted to tell him that his actions spoke so loudly that I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I didn’t. I mean, this wasn’t the first time he had said this and it wasn’t the first time he had done this. I’ve just asked him to call and that he sure as shit wouldn’t appreciate it if the shoe was on the other foot. He said he had thought about calling, but just figured I’d be mad no matter what he did. I think I would’ve told him to hurru home and would’ve been disappointed given my request priro to his depature because I had missed him all day and wanted him here., but I wouldn’t have been nearly as upset. He tells me I’m full of shit. I asked him to try it next time and see what happens. At least if I get pissed when he calls, he can know he did his part. I went to bed without raising my voice or even cursing.

Around midnight, the phone search function on the handset started beeping. He knocked on the bedroom door and told me he needed to use the phone.  I asked who he was calling in a half asleep daze and he replied, “a friend“. When I asked who, he didn’t even bother to answer. I told him he wasn’t doing himself any favors and it could be viewed as quite suspicious that he had arrived late twice tonight and now needed to call an anonymous friend. He said that he really didn’t need to use the phone that he was just testing how controlling I was. Now I’m wide awake. I follow him out to the family room and ask him how on Earth he could possibly call me controlling when I’m 6 months pregnant and was left at home with Pickle while he was out on the town doing exactly what he wanted. It’s laughable.

His response was that he came home as soon as he could when actually he had come home as soon as he wanted to and then acted surprised and wounded that I was upset with him. He didn’t think this was true because apparently he had wanted to stay out longer but only came home because I was gonna be “a bitch“. What a strange contradiction from his “I choose a family life over partying” schpeel earlier.

I started to cry and told him he was making me like I had just made a big mistake, that we were back a Square 1 after a week of marriage, that he has promised me that this wouldn’t happen anymore.

At this point his speech is completely slurred and his eyes are barely open. He tells me I’l never understand because I’ve never worked like him to provide so much, to provide everything. I point blank told him that I didn’t want the provisions if they came with a catch of clause of him being able to do and say everything he wanted that wasn’t in the best interest of our family. I didn’t want things like this. “Like what?” he asks. When I started to answer him, he moved his mouth as if to mock me talking. I told him that I wanted to leave but since I couldn’t wake up Pickle at this hour and couldn’t reasonably leave him that maybe he should call one of his brothers and just go back to where he wanted to be. PIckle and I don’t need this shit in our own home. He asked if I would drive him. (Again, HELLO?!?) Therer were only two bottles of beer in the fridge now, which I poured out. He complained about me wasting it.  I told him that one of use needed to gain control over this situation before it got any further out of control because he was already past the point where another beer would even have a point. I asked him to leave again.

He told me it was his house and asked when was the last time I paid for anything or did any work. This from the same man who told me to not go to an interview this morning because he wanted me at home. I tried to just ignore this comment and asked if I could call his Mom to come get him. As I walked down the hallway, he said, “Welcome to the real world, big girl” and then mumbled “fat bitch“. This is when I just started to sob uncontrollably. Again, I wonder how this happens.  Why does he treat me like this? How can he treat me like this?

Last Friday when we got married we were on top of the world, a week later I’m left wondering if I made the biggest mistake of my life by just trying to do what I THOUGHT would be in the best interests of both the boys. I want my child to have a family, but not like this. NOT. LIKE. THIS.

Then he yelled down the hallway for me to “shut the fuck up with the crying and grow the fuck up“. I got dressed and told I would drive him over to his Mom’s but that I refused to be disrespected like this in my own hime while carrying his child. He ended up leaving on his own, but not before telling me that it would be my fault if he wrecked or got a DUI.

If I’m honest, it hasn’t been a week. On Monday night, he was really upset because his Mom was being “totally unsupportive” of this new job because it meant we would be moving 30 minutes away. He got buzzed up and started talking to me about it. I listened and was being supportive. He told me that his Mom and Dad thought it was all my idea and that I controlled everything. I told him they could think what they wanted and that all that mattered was that we knew what we wanted and were working as a team for our family’s best interest. He rolled his eyes and said, “Yeh and what have you done lately.” Like, out of nowhere came this personal attack.

I just don’t understand. Will it ever stop? And what will it cost us before it does?

And just like that, it was over.

I am in the car on my way to Virginia for my cousins wedding. The boyfriend and his son should be here, but they are not.

I am two months pregnant and its a week before my 21st birthday. Yesterday, my “fiance” and I finally told his mom and dad that we were going to be getting married on Labor Day weekend.

Last weekend we went to the Sheraton and set up the date and place. We checked out tuxes and dresses and wedding bands all week long. He was really excited too. He had been doing really good. We were going to make this work … or so I thought.

I was out buying him clothes for our vacation around 2:30 yesterday. He started drinking around 4. I was running around trying to get packed. At 9:30 last night he came home and told me that his buddy from work had called and said something about me and that he wanted to go over and defend me.

At 11 PM, as I was getting in the shower, he said he’d be back in a couple minutes. I told him I didn’t care what they said and he’d already had a six pack and shouldn’t be driving. He said it was important to him to set the record straight. I started crying and told him I was exhausted and we should just go to bed. But he insisted. He said he wouldn’t drink anything else. He said “Stephanie, I swear you’re too important to me.” I took my shower, got ready for bed, finished packing and waited until 1245 am to call over to his buddy’s. No answer. I fell asleep at 1:30.

At 4:23 AM I hear someone trying to get into the door. I opened the door to find his friend and his wife carrying my “fiance”. His friend thrust a bottle of liquor at me, the same one that was 3/4 full in the fridge earlier, was now barely there.

He had looked me straight in the eye and lied, no, manipulated me. I went to bed and cried myself to sleep.

He and his son were both still sleeping when I got up at 8:30. We had to leave by 10 AM. I tried to wake him up to no avail. Finally, I shook him and told him we needed to talk about what happened before we left. He said he wasn’t going to talk about “shit “. I told him that this was a great start to our vacation, not to mention an upcoming marriage. He told me to “fuck off”.
I asked what I had done to deserve this. I told him that I couldn’t believe he was going to treat me like this after he had manipulated me. I asked him about the liquor and if he had just made up the story about his friend and wanting to defend me. I told him how much he had hurt me.

He called me a “lying bitch” and said that there was no bottle of liquor. So, I dug it out of the trash. He said it was his buddy’s. I said we could call his brother and ask him if he wanted the rest of his bottle back because he was the one who had brought it over with his girlfriend and his sister last weekend when we had played cards.
I went to get the phone and started to dial. He came down the hall and pulled the cord out of the wall. Then he grabs my purse and runs down the hallway, laughing. He locked me me out of the bedroom. I heard him digging through my purse. I was just standing at the door, trying to figure out what he was doing when he opened the door and pushed me up against it, hitting my head. He showed me that he had taken the insurance money that I had gotten from the fire at my parents house that I had set aside for vacation out of my purse and he smiled.
Then he spit in my face. Yes, spit. Rage boiled over and without thinking I slapped him. He swung at me but I was able to block that one. He swung again and landed one on my right side. It knocked the wind out of me. I ran down the hall to the front door screaming for help. I was only in a nightshirt and underwear. I was shaking uncontrollably, trying to get a signal on the phone. I curled myself up into the corner and screamed for help. Then I saw his son. His son had seen him hit me. I asked him to get help but his Dad took him by the hand and took him into his room. This gave me enough to grab shorts and pull them on as I ran out the door and to the neighbors.

The neighbors called the cops. When they arrived, I told them I wanted supervision just long enough so that I could get my belongings. As the police watch I gathered my belongings and then I noticed that my camcorder was now missing. He told the cops he didn’t know where it was. (I found it hidden under the blanket in his son’s bed when I went in to let him know I was ok and would call Nana).

I asked the cops if I could press charges and the one officer got my face and started yelling at me. He told me that he could put me in jail because I had slapped him first. It made me sick to see him standing in his son’s doorway, smirking. He and the officer exchanged stories about their ex-wives as I finished gathering my belongings, minus the spending money he stole, $250, and left.

It seems as though time after time the only thing that consistently matters to him is him.

I guess the wedding is off. I’m going to show up in Virginia without him and his son and I’ll have to explain the entire situation to my family before my cousin’s wedding.

The thing I’m most upset about is his son. He saw his daddy hitting me and hiding the camera under his blanket and lying to a police officer. I guess he wasn’t thinking about anything but himself. He stole money from me? What the hell? Why? I just helped and supported him to get custody of his son from his “evil” ex-wife because of her lifestyle so that he wouldnt be subjected to things like this.

This is a lose-lose situation for me and the kids but from his smirk … he must’ve won.

I hope it’s worth it.


My heart is breaking and there’s nothing I can do about it.
I’m 20 years old, unmarried and pregnant. Carrying the child of a man who I feel as though I never mattered to.
We conceived this child in love, or at least I was young and naïve enough to think so. I remember him distinctively looking my in the eyes and telling me he wanted to have a baby. He wanted to have a family.
Where is he now? Good question.
Im trying to remember exactly how I got here.
A week ago, I was laying in his arms. We were happy, he loved me, he was going to take care of me. My fault in this is the I compromised with him on something that I couldn’t compromise on. This man has a drinking problem to say the very least about it. It’s not to the point that he is violent, just that when he’s not in control and if you interfere in the self-destruction, that’s another story.
IN all honesty, I made the compromise because I knew he would’ve quit. Vicious cycle. He kept saying he wasn’t ready to do that. IN my mind, when you find out you’re going to be having a baby, you make yourself ready for everything you have to.
Middle of the week and he’s alone, so he catches a buzz, calls me and when he started mocking me, I hung up. I laid there for a long time trying to wrap my brain around what was happening. This nastiness hadn’t been directed at me before. IT was always the ex-wife. When he called me the next morning at work, I couldn’t help but express my discontent. I told him I had done a lot of thinking but would need to talk to him later because I was at work, He asked me what it was about. Did he really not remember? I said, “the night before and the drinking. You hurt me.” He asked how and then got really upset with me and told me that I was backing out of our agreement. He’s referring to the fact that I backed off on trying to get him to quit drinking entirely. But didn’t he make an agreement with me? Isn’t there some unspoken agreement to honor the mother of your child? Silly me. I understand where he could be coming from, but there in lies the problem with the compromises with him. I give and inch, he takes a mile. He isn’t even keeping up the basic expectations a woman has in a man she’s in a relationship with. HE didn’t like me pointing this out. He got really angry. He told me he would make his own choices with his drinking and I told him that was fine, but I would need to make my own choices when it came to how I was willing to be treated by him while he was drinking and that may mean that we can’t be together. If these are the actions he chooses for his life, he has to live with their consequences. When you hurt people, you don’t get to decide how they hurt. That’s not how I want to live MY life. He got angrier. He said if we weren’t going to be together, I could bet my ass that he would have joint custody of the baby. I told him he was crazy and he promised that he would make my life a living hell if not. He had a great teacher, referring to his ex-wife.
We didn’t talk after that. I called him the next morning to try and talk to him. It just got weird. He told me he would give me what I wanted, I’m assuming he was referring to respect and love, but that I had to cook breakfast and dinner and have sex with him every night. I think he just proved love and respect were not on the table. Maybe he’s not even capable of it. Realistically, I can’t promise those things. You can’t commit to EVERYDAY routines because, well … life? I’m pregant. I don’t know how I’m going to feel from day to day, what’s going to happen at work. I’m certainly not going to “promise” to do things everyday, when I can’t possibly know what is going to happen in the next hour. I told him making meals and having sex has never been a problem, but to promise it everyday is somethign else entirely. Besides it made me feel cheap that these were bargaining items to him. He actually said, “Fine. That’s it. I’m done.” and hung up on me.
I spent 20 minutes in the bathroom at work, trying to stiffen my hurt and tears. I decided to take a break and I reached out to his Mom. She had been in my shoes at some point. I thought she might have something to offer. She told me that we should “take a break” at least until he finished up his legal proceedings about shared parenting because he has a lot on his mind and might just be lashing out at me instead of his ex. I could see what she was saying but he wasn’t talking to me about this at all. Then I was taken back when she expressed, what seemed like surprise, when I talked about how he asked me to have this baby and had intentionally conceived. Could he have told her that it was an accident so she didn’t freak out or, I don’t even want to write this but, is he trying to make her think I’m trying to “trap him”?
I needed to talk to him about this. I actually had to plead for his time. We agreed that I was going to go over to his place and talk. Then he asked if I wanted to go to dinner with him. I said that we could but that I wanted to go see my Aunt and I had already made arrangements to meet her right after work, I told him I could leave work early, meet with him at work to talk and we could go eat after that. He said he’d see if he could wrap it up early and would call me back to let me know. When he called me he said he could get off at an hour early if he just skipped his lunch break. Then right before we got off the phone, he asked if I would “take care of him” i.e. get him off. Gawd damn. Whatever, I got to his work ten minutes late because of a last minute phone call. I asked if he was ready to go because he was acting really awkward. I explained I was late because of a phone call and traffic, that I was treating him to dinner so what was with the weirdness. He’s horny… so I remind him that I hadn’t said “No” in that regard. He told me he’d get over it. Get over what? He didn’t talk to me and was sulking as we made our way to the restaurant. Jesus! Aren’t men supposed to be the less dramatic sex?
I’m getting completely frustrated at this point. This isn’t productive and I left work to try and accomplish something here. I told him he had a real knack for making me feel like I could never do anything right. Then he got upset when I told him I was going to see a movie with my Mom later. He somehow thought I was coming over later, even though we had made these plans to be together and talk now because of my prior commitment to meet with my Aunt. I felt like he was being possessive and controlling. THis wasn’t a big deal. We had bigger fish to fry. ASide from that, we already had plans for me to spend the weekend with him and his son. I thought that’s why we were trying to get this out of the way. He called me selfish and said I didn’t give a shit about him. HELLO?!? At this point, I didn’t want to go to dinner. It would just be a waste of money and I would be miserable because he was obviously determined to be an ass. We started yelling back and forth. He told me that he was trying to make this work and I wasn’t. THen he said, “I gave you what you wanted and you’re just worth it.” He said it was over and he was done with me. He could find someone else to “take care” of him. I asked how this was even possible when we had conceived a child together. You can’t just chuck people, children. When we pulled back into his work he said this was really it and told me not to call him.
HIs words hurt so bad I was feeling physical pain. I just put my hands over my face and sobbed. He actually opened the door and asked me what the fuck I was doing. I was obviously in shock and in no condition to drive. I was just going to try and calm down and then I would leave. Then he tells me to go to my work and cry because he didnt want me to start any shit there. Could he be anymore heartless? Being in the parking lot of his work and “starting shit” was honestly the furthest thing from my mind but I left. I drove home, sobbing. Decided I needed to take a nap.
When I woke up, I remembered that I had meant to give him the money order for the electric bill which was still in my purse. I called him and had to leave a message explaining that I would just drop it off to him because he refused to answer. When I got there, I ended up tending to his son because he had bubble gum in his eyelashes and brows. When that task was complete and I was getting ready to leave, he offered to talk, but only if I “fuck” him first. When I pushed him away with a look of disgust on my face he told me, “Get the fuck out”. I told him that I couldn’t believe he was being like that. I mean, not only had I just taken care of his kid, but I was PREGNANT with his other one. He told me he was done with me, again, and he’d “find another bitch to take care” of him. I didn’t understand. I couldn’t comprehend. He wanted this baby. He wanted us to be a family. How can he just turn his back? I tried to choke back tears while I hugged and told his little boy “bye”, promising to call him Saturday since I wasn’t going to be around as we had previously planned. This isn’t fair to him either.
I cried all the way home, again. I’m spotting blood now and having being having cramps all night. All I do is cradle my growing belly. If I lose this baby, I will never forgive him. I still want this baby desperately, I want him and I want the family he promised we’d be. I wish he would call. Im scared, Im alone and I shouldn’t be. This should be the happiest time of my life.
And where is he? How can he do this?