A Decade and a bit
*Trigger warnings*
*18+ content*
It’s been about 12 years since I met a guy and ended up pregnant. I wanna say it was a choice, but it most certainly was not on purpose. I remember finding out, and being so afraid he would leave; telling my mom the same, just to have her blow up at him. Funny because now, I look back, wishing he’d have left right then and there. For the next 11 years it was bound to be hell; and all I can think is, how did I do this to myself? How did I allow this all to happen to me? How was I too blind to know I deserved better? I don’t know but still to this day, it haunts me, and unfortunately 60% of the time, I still don't believe I deserve better. February 2010 my daughter was conceived, honestly I was so happy, excited even. I remember hearing her first heartbeat, he wasn't there. I remember walking home with the biggest smile on my face, and feeling so stupid at the same time, walking around with this big weird smile on my face. She was a blessing. In the very beginning I decided I would raise her right, and try my best to build her up and make her strong. My mom always put me down, told me I couldn’t do anything. Well, she, that’s another whole different fricking story. Being pregnant was amazing, feeling baby move and just patiently waiting. I got lucky and didn’t even have bad morning sickness or pains or anything. Months roll around and these little red flags popped up but for some reason I was blind to them till later. I guess I just can handle a lot of shit. 6 maybe 7 months pregnant and we were walking somewhere, and i remember him like pulling me along and rushing me, and I was just so pregnant that I was getting stitches and it hurt, but he didn’t care cuz we had somewhere to be. I don’t even remember where, but the red flags came more and more, and I ignored them all. Not wanting to feel like I was an ass for thinking he was being an ass. He was an ass, and it only got worse and maybe I was an ass too, I don't think I'm innocent here, maybe we are both victims. I remember the day my daughter was born. I remember staying in Edmonton at his dad’s, doing the waiting game. November 23 2011, at 4:30 am, I remember waking him up and telling him that I was counting my contractions and I thought it was time. Now, after previously wishing he’d have left at the very beginning, this here is the next moment I wish we’d have separated and never turned back. Okay and first I have to say, this wasn’t one of those pregnancies where u end up going into the hospital ten times and just unsure. I went in once, around my due date to get induced, a week later, here we are. he looks at me, half asleep, and says “okay, well you go, and call me from the hospital if it’s time.” I wish i had walked out the door and let him miss it, sure seems like he didn’t even wanna be there. I have heard a lot of pregnancy stories, and I for one, had it easy. I went in at 4:30 am and had her by noon, with no complications. And while in the state I was in I sure would have liked to sleep, but here I’m looking over and he’s sleeping on the cot. Not enduring this with me, sleeping up to the very last moment. Just feels like the majority of these moments I look back and he wasn’t there. I thought the first couple years were good with the three of us, but I keep remembering things. Within the first year and a half of having her, I remember getting into an fight, and I remember him throwing a chair and being so afraid every time he would come near me. I’m pretty passive, until someone comes at me all aggressive. Honestly, this isn’t even the worst. Well, I’m not going to lie, in the first year or two with my daughter I spent a lot of nights going out to the bar, and he was pretty good about staying home with her, I mean even if he was just gunna sit and play video games all night anyways. I loved the bar. I loved the music, the way I felt so free and so good. Unfortunately, it got out of control. Maybe it had been so long since I felt the sparks of someone just simply touching a shoulder. A touch that didn't make me cringe, and I will tell you, if it makes you
cringe, I swear to god, go with your gut. Anyways, so I ended up way to drunk, and I ended up making out with the wrong guy. I remember feeling so good but so bad. I have a pretty good conscience, so I came clean. And boy did I eat shit. Well deserved I know, I crossed a line, maybe broke him, I'm not sure. I have never been more sorry in my life. And from that day on I basically quit drinking, we split up, kind of. I wanted that attachment so at this point I was basically willing to do whatever it took to get him back. To get him to see that I could change and i could be better. After a few months of doing these things I absolutely hated doing, he left and called me name after name after name. Letting me in just enough to get the good feels, then shoving my down in the ditch to drown, because for all i knew, that's what i deserved after what i did. 6 months apart, he’s living in Edmonton with his brother, unfortunately his brother was quite a mess at times too. Couldn't hold up his end, the bills were too much and my ex, well he needed help. So, he finally decided to let me back in. I remember the day we drove to Edmonton, it was February 2014, it was still winter and the winds were so bad, my mom didn't even wanna drive. It was like sign after sign after sign. The winds were like 100km winds, semi’s were blowing off the roads, and yet, I went. It was fine for a while, the three of us all living in one room, until one night my ex is at work, and his brother gets wasted and just starts getting so mad, clearly I just don't deal with aggression well. My ex came home and we ended up having to leave cuz his brother was on house arrest. He lost his job too for leaving to deal with our family crisis. We ended up grabbing everything we could from this place, losing a lot because all we could take was what we could take on the train with us. We managed to find another place, again all three of us living in one room sharing a house with a few Filipino people, they were pretty cool. The fighting never dulled or stopped. It was always something. I remember once being shown a Facebook account, with a Latino name and being assured that i had a fake Facebook account. The only thing was, it wasn't me. I will tell you another thing, a really shitty feeling, is when you're defending yourself persistently for something you didn't even do. Being told over and over again that your wrong when you know you're right. Being told I cheated with someone I never had. The landlord ended up selling the place so we found some roommates to move in with, another couple who had kids. These people were, intense to say lightly. Some what the same though, She couldn't leave without being harassed to come back home and deal with the kids. At this point I couldn't even see my best friend, because she had guys with her. I remember her coming to town and asking me to go to Red’s or something, and it was just such a fight to let me go. Are there guys? He didn't want me to go, and i remember swearing up and down that it wasn't his fault that I wouldn't go. He eventually did let me go, but when i came home it was assumptions and accusations. Seems like after this point every time i left the house, to go to work, to anything, I always walked back in to assumptions and accusations. I remember getting phone calls at work, with him screaming at me, and my coworkers just looking at me like I'm fucked. I wish I knew why I put up with it all. At this point I've probably been solely providing for my family for at least 4 years, since he lost that job. It was so hard to make ends meet with 13 dollars an hour and i just wore myself out. Sadly those were the days, i would ask my boss if i could stay longer, just so I didn't have to go home. This is where things really took a turn, because it wasn't just things I was doing anymore. Now its things someone else is doing, some stranger logging into his games and apps with convenient names to harass and make him feel bad. Which, I don’t know, I still to this day see as coincidences. Maybe I was wrong for not supporting him, I
honestly didn't know how. After all the times, I honestly felt like I would be lying if I said I believed it, and I had no one to talk to. I had already lost touch with reality. One day, the fight got so bad, I will never forget this day, it severely haunts me, and I pray I never get treated this way again. I don't even remember what we were fighting about, but it was bad, there were things thrown everywhere, glass smashed all over the place, my favorite things all broken. I remember standing in the kitchen while he picked up the weeks worth of garbage in the can and dumped it on me, and called me trash. And people wonder why I have no self worth, because I dealt with shit like this for too long. I broke. After the trash it was bong water, all over my Chili Peppers shirt stained with resin for life. I remember this was close to my daughters birthday. I was making her a cake and he threw that everywhere. I still have the video of the way the house looked. Whore, cunt, bitch, stupid. I pray that no one ever gets put down in this way. And fuck me, I still went back to him. Still allowed him another chance for what I don't know. With my mom and my best friend telling to leave, I justified it. Relationships are hard they take work, but hun not this much. Her birthday comes and he sits in his room the whole day. I don't remember the fight after that, the only thing I do remember was my daughter and niece in the living room probably only 4 and5 and he picked up my PlayStation and just threw it flat down right in front of them, and they looked so scared. At this point I’m yelling at him to get the fuck out. Do something to me that's one thing, I can take it a lot better than those poor little kids, whom had done nothing. As he was walking up the stairs I said his name and he turned around. I punched him in the face, and that was the first time I had ever hit anyone in the face ever. Its weird, I get to a point where I've had enough but then I'm okay and decide I guess I can handle a little more I don't know maybe it will be better, they say things get better… they didn't. I think it was 2017 when he finally moved back to our old town. Not long after I followed, I guess I just couldn't give myself the time to find something better, someone better. Ended up moving back in with him. This time, was the last time. This argument was horrid. Not as bad as having bong water and garbage dumped on you, but words have a way of sticking in the brain. Another fight i don't remember at all what I did, but I remember sitting on the deck begging my friend to come get me, when he throws a bag of roast beef sandwich meat at me and says my cunt smells. This guy has torn me down in every way possible. I honestly don't even have a clue as to how to rebuild myself. I wanted to leave the meat behind on the bed, with a note “ For when you start to miss me” I wish I had, but I guess I just didn't want to sink that low. I didn't realize how low I was already sinking. When he wanted sex that was it, he was either gunna belittle me until I just laid there and took it or he’d go watch porn and grope me while I tried to ignore it all. Honestly this is my biggest pain. I never want to feel what that feels like ever again. Lets be clear, he never once actually hit me, before he had pushed the back of the rocking chair and basically thrown me out of it, and this last time, he put his hand on my face and he shoved me. And I don't know why, but that's when I really broke. I walked out that door and never came back. We tried to be friends later, but it was too hard. He would try to kiss me and honestly cringe, to having to turn away to block a kiss u don't want. I so nicely explained how hard we tried and that we just had to let go. Spent a few months doing a lot of molly together. Before I realized I was sinking again, this time to molly. She felt so good. Gave me that feeling I wanted. Peace in my heart. No worries. No anger. Nothing. Peace. Just over two years separated and I honestly hope he leaves our lives and doesn't come back. I am sorry, that he misses
out on his kid, but I cannot fathom the idea of her going through the same tragedies I have. Today, I have anxiety, severe depression, mostly likely BPD, 60% of the time I feel like I'm drowning, or wish I was. I cant work, I hate going out for fear of people thinking and seeing me the way he did. All of those things he said have shaped the way I see myself and its so sad. One day, I hope I find my worth. And you, remember to love yourself more than anything else. I didn’t and it destroyed me. I had all the chances in the world to turn my life around, don’t miss yours.
