Relationship Violence Story From Kristy

by Kristy
(Baltimore, Maryland, USA)

This is actually the first time I have written about this. I am 22 years old and married, but I'll get to that.

When I was a senior in high school I started dating, I'll call him KB. I just turned 18 and we were inseparable. I went to middle school with him, but never noticed him before. He was gorgeous. He still is (on the outside) and I think that's why he is able to victimize so many women. I am not the only one. We started dating in February and I don't recall anything being bad until the night after prom in May. We went out to a party and came back to his house afterwards to sleep. He was hung-over the next morning, and for reasons I can't remember, I wound up getting choked against the wall in his house. This was the first of many incidents to come.

Fast forward to after graduation and being accepted into college. I almost went to a school in Massachusetts, but didn't because I thought I was SO in love with him. I wound up moving with him to his dad's house and going to UMBC (University Maryland, Baltimore County) instead (I'm from Baltimore, so it's nearby).

The two biggest incidents I remember were a time that he knocked me over the glass coffee table and choked me against the couch. We live with his stepbrother, dad, and stepmother. His brother came in the room and saw, but did nothing. Another time he was drunk and choked me, kicked me in the back of the head, and multiple other things. I went upstairs to tell his father, who told me not to call the cops. (I later found out his dad used to hit his mother in front of him when he was a child.)

But it wasn't the beatings that were that bad. He was a moody person. There were times when he would question everything I did, down to the way I was chewing. He would call me fat (I was 130 lbs) and would look at me with those blue eyes in a way that could make a serial killer cringe. One day we got into a fist fight in the parking lot at a mall. You see, it came down to me fighting him back as well. I stopped letting him hit me and started fighting back. He was much stronger than me and I always wound up the bloody one. It really started my violent streak.

I eventually met Marcus, my husband, and felt like I was so in love that I left KB. I later found out he threw a glass Snapple bottle at his new girlfriend's face and broke her nose.

Marcus is another story altogether. He is an ex heroine addict and an alcoholic. When I met Marcus I felt that I found my soul mate. My soul one. When he is sober, he is this gentle, intelligent, amazing person. I LOVE him. But when he is drinking, he is Mr. Hyde. He swears, he's violent, he says things no one should ever say to someone he loves.

I gave him an ultimatum last month about drinking. I told him I wouldn't stick around.

Two days ago he relapsed. I came home from work and he was drunk. He tried to lie about it, insulting my intelligence. But even when Marcus has a LITTLE drink, his eyes look strange, I can always tell. Finally he admitted it and said he'd had 2 beers. I knew this was a lie so I dug through the trash. I found a half pint of finished vodka.

Marcus is manic and takes medicine for it. It means that his brain moves too fast and he can't slow his thoughts. Sometimes his medicine doesn't work and he looks to drink to calm himself down. He claims he'd going crazy. I don't understand what he's going through in that department, but I do understand that they are excuses. I am tired of him making me feel like when he drinks it is somehow my fault. He is very much like a child.

When he drinks, he breaks things. He calls me names, sometimes he is violent. He says things to people that he would never say sober and often gets into fights (and loses). His logic is soooo very backwards and he NEVER remembers what he did or said the next day. He just has an overwhelming sense of guilt to the point that he cries. But not enough to stop drinking.

I am on my last string. This last time he disappointed me, all I could think about was that I wanted to go home to my mom and dad and start over. He goes to a mandatory rehab class but WILL not get a sponsor. When I tell him I want him out of my home, I cannot get him to leave (I am 5'1, he is 6'2).

I am lost, stressed, and sad. I understand he has severely cut down on his drinking. But I also know it isn't fair to me. I am 22, he is 31. I am tired of babysitting a grown man. Last year he got locked up for a DUI and kicked the window out of the police car. He served 6 months in rehab and currently doesn't have a drivers licence so I am forced to drive him EVERYWHERE. He makes very little money, but DOES work everyday. Money never used to matter to me, but for some reason now I am pissed about it. Like if I have to deal with this dumb shit, I may as well not live in poverty.

Again though, when Marcus is sober, he is amazing. He is supportive, loving, and gentle. When he drinks, I am afraid I might suffocate him in his sleep.

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