The Second Step Back Was What Happened One Week Later. During The Entire Time I Was Pregnant And Some

The second step back was what happened one week later.  During the entire time I was pregnant and some time prior he briefly “befriended”  a woman considerably younger than him. One night she was over they played video games for hours and she started to feel motion sick.

He let her sleep in his our bed.  I spent a night of torture suffering and struggling on my own in a basement. Aborting his child after he impregnated me.  

She got a bit dizzy and he had her sleep in my spot. Oh, and he told me he rubbed her back as she fell asleep.

#1 on the list

At this very moment one year ago, I was in labour.

On the evening of November 8 -9, 2016 he came in me without my permission. In his defense I believe it was an accident. I had, at that time, miscalculated my cycle, and thought I was not in a red zone. I was incorrect. Weeks later I felt a flutter, did the usual stuff to confirm, and found out for sure. Pregnant.

I already had the appointment booked when I told him; most of me knew this was the right decision, but a little part of me hoped he’d try to talk me out of it. In retrospect it was absolutely the right decision for several reasons and if I hadn’t had that appointment booked when I told him, I’m confident he would have punched me in the stomach.

He didn’t talk me out of it, and it was made clear to me that this was something I had to handle alone.  He came to the hospital with me for the preliminary appointment and thought he had done me a great service. He advised that I was not welcome at his (once our) home despite the fact that he had put me in the predicament. If I wanted him to join me, I would have to pay for a hotel.  As I was spending every dime I had at the time on him - feeding him, clothing him, entertaining him, I had my cards maxed and couldn’t afford it.  He was very charitable with his next option - he’d go to sleep, but he’d unblock me so I could call him and keep his phone on.

So I did it alone.

What I endured was a trauma I may never get over. Some women have unpleasant period sensations.  I went through 16 hours of labour mixed with a bad reaction to the medication.  Vomit, diarrhea, sweating, chills, shakes and delirium, all alone in my parents basement, trying to be quiet to not wake them in the very early morning of Christmas Eve.

I have plenty of terrible options to choose from, but this was hands down, the absolute worst, horrible thing that has ever happened to me. 

And he made me do it alone.  What kind of man would abandon a woman like that?

This was the first time the veil got pulled back for me and I saw a glimpse of clarity through the fog.  This was the first time I thought about my life critically in years. I thought about what I wanted in life and what I needed to get there.  I felt strong - such an unusual feeling - like I could endure anything.

And then I thought about what I didn’t want to endure anymore, and what I no longer needed in my life.  A whole bunch of uncomfortable questions emerged.

This was the first step back.

Texts on deck

I’m still going through old texts; I have a ton to share.

I have avoided capturing my responses thus far.  In all frankness, they are humiliating. I wish it wasn’t me.  It doesn’t really feel like me. However, it was me. Part of healing is forgiving yourself (mon dieu), and I don’t think I’ll be able to do that unless I release them.

Depresh has consumed me since looking through these things, so I am barely keeping up with essentials.  I can’t release anything right now.  But I will, periodically.

This is me being brave.

Flashback

I have an astonishingly clear memory of one of the days where I went to help him rebuild the basement. I stood at the top of the stairs much longer than usual. I was willing myself to go down.

I did so by telling myself I was okay with the prospect of never coming back up.

It INFURIATES me that his words still make me cry this hard. 

This worries me.

I can’t tell if I don’t like kissing in general or if I just don’t like kissing him.

Hazard of being with someone who crushes you every day of your entire adult life.

He’s going back on some parts of our separation agreement, so I have been looking for texts in case I need to submit evidence. It’s not relevant to our  agreement, but I found this.

Context:  I told him that I was going to be participating in my local Take Back the Night event. I was raped when I was 19, so it is close to my heart.

He sent me this message after kicking me out of the house again after I visited him. It happened a lot.  My memories can be foggy at times so I am not completely certain why I was vacated this time.  However an educated guess is it was one of the times I protested him telling other people about my assault. He used it to garner sympathy from the girls he wanted to sleep with - I was a monster and this was one of the reasons.  He wanted so much to help me, but I was a lost cause.  

With the event so close, the feelings were raw. I may have gotten a bit sassy.  I told him it wasn’t his story to tell.   So he’d shove me violently toward the door and tell me to “Leave!!”  Then proceed to spam me with hate for the following hour.

I haven’t had one of these nights for a while now.  But reading this again punched me in the gut.  The worst part is, later on in the conversation I excuse him because I knew he “only denied [or doubted that I was raped] when [he] was really hurt.”

This one hurt really bad then; I remember driving home and being worried I’d crash my car because I couldn’t see through my tears. Or my misery. I’m ashamed that it still hurts now.