This past year has been probably the hardest year of my life…and there is still one month left to do. I began to write this…thinking that it is almost Christmas…but the new year and this past year spoke louder to me.
I began this year 7 months pregnant with my husband and my third baby. We were living at his moms house…with his mom, her boyfriend, and my husbands niece. My husband had me quit my job a few months earlier and he had not been working for avoid a year.
In fact my new “work” was begging. Literally…standing in front of stores with my 2 year old and 8 month old, with my 7 month pregnant belly begging random strangers for change or a few bucks, or diapers or gas or whatever my husband wanted at the time. Don’t get me wrong…when I just couldn’t do it…he did it a few dozen times…but not 8 plus hours a day….6 days a week. It was awful. First time I asked a stranger for some gas I was given 20 bucks…from then on he wanted me to ask people for money. He would sit in our car and watch me…to make sure I was really trying, getting enough and not being lazy. Great man eh…makes his wife and kids beg instead of letting his wife work or working himself. When I started being recognized or when I hated waking up because I knew it would be another day of him driving me from store to store to get him money. I didn’t ever set any back for myself. Never lied about what I was given. It all went to him. Normally….he refused to use what we were given for gas or diapers….instead it was first used on weed and as I found out later meth.
A few weeks into the year we moved into an apartment and lives there until April. That was the house of horrors for me. Made me cry when I got my daughters birth certificate…and it has our address printed right on it. Anyway…the first night we were there the shit started…little did I know…making it out of that apartment alive would truly be a miracle. Remember…I was 7 months pregnant when we moved it. My mother in laws boyfriend drove all our stuff to the apartment. There is an ongoing “issue” my husband had for about 6 months prior where he kept accusing me of fucking his moms boyfriend, of sneaking out of our room and cheating on him with his mind boyfriend etc. he wasn’t nice about it either…kicked me in the face over it, went into detail telling me how “loose” I was, beating me up became I was in the living room and his moms boyfriend was in the kitchen and I was being suspicious. I helped carry some little stuff…then went into the boys room with them and told mg husband I didn’t want to go back downstairs with his moms boyfriend because I didn’t want problems. I just got called a bunch of names, told I was being stupid because there was no trust issue and that I was a lazy far white who “probably was fucking his moms boyfriend”. Little did I know that he brought 17gr meth into the apartment, had moved to the area to be close to his friend who is a cool (of meth) for the hells angels and that he went to all the neighbors introduced himself and told them he lives with our tel babies and me. He told our neighbors I was nuts, hormonal, pregnant with our 3rd baby in 2 years and that I had issues where I liked to scream and yell and break things. Then he walked upstairs….called me every name in the book and beat me up…black eye, hurt belly, bruises on my neck….suffocation, threats of worse violence and death if the cops showed up. It was the beginning of my hell.
I am up to about Jan 11th…and my head hurts thinking about what happened in that place. Im done for now…I can’t keep writing. There are many things that have never seen daylight, never been written or spoken…and I can not so that now.
Anyway…it was a tough year…even now it certainly isn’t easy. But I am safe! That is huge for me.