Eight is enough

I continued to self medicate for the next few years.  I don't want to give the wrong impression and make you all think I was some hard core drug addict, when that wasn't it at all.  I was doing things that weren't healthy for me on many levels but I wasn't a daily user of any one substance (well...except food of course). Sounds kinda like denial right?!  I assure you this isn't the case. 

After a few years of being by myself I started to get very lonely and wanted to have someone special in my life.  I got a phone call out of the blue one day from 'him' and I wanted to hang up, my head told me to hang up.....but I didn't.  It wasn't long into the conversation the real reason he called me that day...to tell me he gotten some girl pregnant and his new baby was almost 5 months old.  I still thank my lucky stars that girl wasn't me ...this really was no big shock, he has two other kids by two different women.   After he told me that he wasn't with this girl anymore he started in on the "I've changed"..."I would never hurt you" " I've never stopped loving you" spiel, and after a few minutes the abused woman mentality kicked in again, and my loneliness was just the cherry on top of this hot mess sundae. 


It started again, he was charming, said all the right things, did all the right things, and like a fool I believed he really did change.  There was only one little problem with our perfect reunion...his new baby, and the fact that the baby's mom was a sorry excuse of a parent.  The next thing I know, we are sitting in a family law office speaking to a lawyer about 'him' getting custody of the baby.  Right around this time, I thought it would be awesome for us to live together so I went out and got my very first apartment.  I may have been a fool to get back together with 'him' but I was smart enough to think about covering my butt if things went downhill.  I was the only person listed on the lease, all the utilities were in my name so as far as anyone knew I was the only one living there. 


Of course by this time my mom knew we were living together. She had no idea how abusive he was to me the first time around.  After a few months and several court dates later, he was granted temporary sole physical and legal custody of the baby. We brought her to the apartment and I thought that I was going to have a happy little family.  I couldn't have been more wrong. 


Before long, I was the only one taking care of his baby, and bonding with her too.  I did everything for that little girl, not because I had to but because I wanted too. Her own biological mother had no interest in being there for her, so I tried to make up for that by making sure she knew how loved she was. I made sure to get her on a schedule, cuddled her every chance I got, gave her hugs and kisses every chance I got and told her I loved her. I treated her as if she were my own child.   


Not too long after she came to live with us he started coming home from work drunk...every single night.  It was only a matter of time before it started again, and it started right where it left off.  I tried my hardest to make sure this never went on in front of her....I wanted so badly to show her the love I felt like I never had from my father. I never wanted her to feel like I had felt growing up and as an adult.  I continued to allow him to be abusive, I stayed because I didn't want to leave her.  I wanted so much for her to actually be mine.  


Every time we would get into an argument I would call my mom because he wouldn't hurt me if I was on the phone with her, and I usually stayed on the phone long enough for him to get distracted with something. As soon as I heard him close the bathroom door I knew I was in the clear. Every night was the same routine, he would come home drunk cause a fight I would call my mom, he would get sick in the bathroom and then he would pass out in the bedroom.  Most nights I was able to avoid the physical part of it but not always.  


I started not being able to concentrate at work, and my stress levels were through the roof. I never wanted to go home after work and would feel sick to my stomach when he would pull up outside.  One night it all came to a head....my luck ran out and I wasn't able to get out of it again.  I won't go into the hairy details, but that night was the last straw for me. I couldn't take it anymore. The next day I met my mom after work for dinner and  told her what was going on and she told me what I needed to hear. She told me I deserved better and I could get better. She told me I had no other choice than to tell him he had to move out and that it was over.  I needed to understand that she wasn't my baby and never would be. I needed to get out now while I still could, and then we made a plan. 


I would go home, tell him it was over and that he had two weeks to get out of my apartment, then I would leave and go back to the restaurant where I  would meet back up with my mom. From there I would go to her house while she would head to the apartment and get some clothes for me.  Most of the plan worked the way it was supposed to, but instead of having her get my clothes I just barged in told him it was over, he had two weeks to get out and if he put one finger on me I would call the police, scream do whatever I had to do to get him arrested.  He just sat there. He let me get my stuff and leave without a fight.  I got in my car and I left for the last time. 

A few minutes after I pulled away my phone started ringing, I didn't answer the first 10 calls but I knew if I didn't answer it would just continue.  I finally answered and to my horror it was that precious little girl crying into the phone....he knew what that would do to me....he thought I would come screeching back to the apartment and everything would go back to his version of normal. I pulled over, hung the phone up and just cried, hearing her screaming for me felt like my heart was being pulled through my chest, and that description really doesn't do that feeling justice, it was so much more than that. I got a few more phone calls from him and I answered each one, and they were all the same. He would cry and tell me how sorry he was and how he would make it up to me.  I didn't fall for it, I knew it would never change and I had to be the one to break the cycle. 

A few days later a couple of friends decided they had enough of the mopey Jenny. They took me out for some cocktails and a good time, and towards the end of the night I started to let myself have some fun, after all I had a designated driver, I was of legal drinking age and dang it I hadn't had fun in so long.  I wasn't drunk, but I was warm and fuzzy for sure!  When we were leaving I asked the friend that was driving me to stop by my apartment for some more clothes. She asked me if I thought it was a good idea, and that maybe we should wait until the next day and send my mom to get the clothes.  Being warm, fuzzy and full of confidence I told her heck no and to get me over there.  Against her better judgement she obliged and off we went. 


When we got to my place I stuck my key in the door and it didn't work.  After we figured out that he had changed the locks I rang the doorbell like a crazy person.  As soon as he answered the door I knew something was up.....someone besides him was there.  I pushed passed him and headed for the bedroom......big mistake hahaha.  I opened the door to find his 'baby mama' laying in my bed,  in my brand new sheets and comforter I got for Christmas. I was beyond mad. I wasn't mad because he was already with someone, I was mad because of who it was, after everything I did for him and his baby to get her away from the worst mother I have ever encountered.....I was mad because I knew this wasn't the first time she had been in my apartment, I knew before but refused to accept it.  I'm sure you can imagine what when down from there.   It was then that he also switched personalities like he had done so many times before.  He was no longer the crying coward begging me to come back, he was the cocky , I'm going to do everything in my power to get back at you person.  This made it so much easier to be happy with the decision I made to leave that toxic relationship. 


I am so happy to say that this is the final chapter of that relationship.  I can also say that because I closed this door, a new one opened.  A door that has been full of surprises.....good ones.