hell again

Aug. 21st, 2009 at 11:31 PM

well tonight isn’t as bad as it could be. but tomorrow could be a lot worse. That is actually the worst part of being with him, I never know the what the next day will bring. He had a bad day at work (everyday is a bad day at work). He was being talked shit about by two of the guys he works with.

so he comes home and talks about it with me and who ever else he can. while getting drunk. the makes all these threats against them. and continues to get sloppy drunk. I hate him like that. it discusts me and makes me sick.

then he starts talking about how he’s going to quit his job in a week & a half. so that’s how long I HAVE to find him one. then (like always) he changes his mind and says i have to find a job because he can’t find another one. and how he’s not going to go to work again or how he’s going to beat both the kids asses.

then he starts saying how he wants to have sex. I hate having sex with him most of the time. but always when he’s been drinking like that. it’s just discusting to me. I hate him and he scares me and he things thats the time to go at it. so he says if i don’t want to have sex he will take the baby from me and he’s moving out and not going to work and that i’ll have to pay him child support. and not to come in the room.

I’m scared shitless at that point and really at this one too. I don’t know what he’ll do when he wakes up. he may try and go through with it. he may try to beat me up again. he may just go to work. maybe when he’s sober I can explain that It always ends up hurting when we have sex and he’s drunk.

I think my last entry is when he did this to me last time. i cried when it was over. he has no idea how mean and awful he really is. but by comparison, i guess he’s much better than either his family or himself in the past. which still scares the shit out of me.

He just plain scares me. I’m afraid of what he’ll do to me and to our son. I really wish I could get away from him. I wish I could take my son and never have to see him ever again.


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