I’m typing this to hopefully get some things off my chest and not be judged, ridiculed, or be told I’m stupid. It’s a long post because I have a point at the end. I met my husband (let’s call him monkey) on a website called Meet Me. We were friends for about a year or two before we finally took it to a serious relationship. Well before that my ex (he will be called lion) had broken up with me after the fact I had taken time off work and was going to buy tickets to see him. Well since I had the time off I decided to see monkey for the first time ever. When I went to visit him, that’s when we decided to make it official, and since I was being kicked out of my parents house anyways he was ok with me moving in. So I had to quit my job because the place I worked at couldn’t do transfers in the city monkey lived in. And on to the bus I went. I left everything I’ve ever known and loved to be with a guy I love and to be on my own. Well 2 months go by and we find out I’m pregnant, surprise lol. And after that, a few more months go by and I found out that monkey is an aggressive and physical person. Not all the time, only when our fights get really bad. Our first fight he pinned me to the floor after punching his computer and bruising my shoulder, after that he apologized. A month later he and his mom (she was living with us) got in a huge fight because instead of working she was basically acting like a teenager, going out partying and coming home drunk and high. They were fighting in her room. I go to stop the fight and they shut the door on me and all I could hear was shuffling and pushing. The mom had pushed monkey and he kicked her so she comes flying out of the room and he follows in pursuit still screaming at her, and there was nothing I could do. Then in August we got out first house together, with his mom still living with us. Our first fight in that house was in either November or December. I don’t remember what it was about but he had locked himself in the bathroom threatening to kill himself and I tried to open the door and he closed the door on my hand hard enough I bled, then stupid me goes to the kitchen to “kill” myself, obviously I didn’t do it but I had caused damage to the house by throwing the knife to the floor creating a huge hole. The biggest fight I remember was in December, a few weeks before I gave birth. Again I don’t remember what we had fought but I had pissed him off so bad he came to me and punched the back of my head three times.... then after realizing what he did he then hit his own head against his dresser....and the entire time this was going on, his best friend and our roommate were in the house, listening to everything that was going on, and they both did nothing. And a few days later we had another fight and I get thrown into the wall while he kicked his own dog while his own dog was trying to protect me. But this time there was no one else in the house. A week later he goes outside, barefoot in shorts in the middle of winter where we lived it snowed everyday. I went outside and spent an hour looking for him, apparently he came back inside the house through the back Door as I went through the front. Then I go into premature labor. My first baby was supposed to be born in Valentine’s Day 2016 but she was born December 30th 2015. Then February 9th we moved. And not even a month into the new place we had a fight. I went to sit on the couch to cool off and he comes after me and drags me to go lay down with him. Then during the summer we had his nieces down for a visit, we had argued about putting a little tv on dresser in the room they were staying in so that they could watch movies and he went over board. Flipped over the coffee table, threw things at me, then went to the kitchen and literally cut his leg open then screams in pain like he expected not to hurt, all in front of his own nieces. He called my dad so that he can go to the er and get it stitched, then blamed it on me. Ever since then I took it upon myself that I was the one that deserved to be hurt. So just about every time we had a huge fight I would bang my head against the wall, the floor, the counter, anything hard. Fall comes and we had another fight, I went to go outside the front door to try to cool down and he blocks me, then pins me down yelling at me, this time it was all in front of our daughter, so now ever time we try to play with each other she freaks out. Then we had his mom come live with us again because she was also having issues with her husband, monkey and I had another fight, he said he was going to pay for a flight ticket and leave. He left our bedroom and I guess I said something and he comes back, grabs me in a choke hold and pins me to the bed while his mom is begging us not to break up... the next big fight was in next summer while it was raining, I finally got to go outside but not to cool down, I decided to walk to my dads house (I don’t drive), and he walks out behind me, with our daughter in his arms, in the rain, she’s not wearing a jacket or shoes or a hat, and neither was he, yet he persisted on following me yelling at me. I finally decided to go back (didn’t even make it a block) and he threatens me “when we get home I’m going to pound your face to the ground”. Thankfully he never did. Then early this year, I had decided to go to counseling to try and fix our fights, by myself. I didn’t tell him that. He thought I was going in for depression. A month later I finally told him because kept telling that it was stupid of me to go see a counselor for depression because he thinks we can just simply overcome it. The “mind over matter” motto kind of thing. Well after I told him he started freaking out saying I didn’t love him and how I was telling them he’s the bad guy or how I’m in a domestic abuse relationship and how everything was going to be taken away from us. He then proceeded to threaten to kill him self, he took a mirror hanging on a wall and bash it against his head, then I went to go out the back door to cool down because I was having a major panic attack and he comes after me again and steps in one if the broken mirror pieces, slicing his foot so bad he again had to go to the er to get stitches and again blames it on me. After that I didn’t go see the counselor and we had finally FINALLY stopped getting into such huge fights. We were talking things out we went separate ways to cool down, we talked about different subjects. Things were finally getting better. It was February since he stabbed his foot. All up until two days ago. One of the moms suggested a site to start a blog and I got excited about it so I hopped on the computer to start it and he goes and tears the idea down. “Do you even know how to blog? Do you even write? You do know that this is going to take time and thinking right?” So after hearing all that I was no longer in the mood to write so I shut the computer down and started folding laundry and started ignoring him. I was upset and I knew that if I were to defend myself I was just going to be talked over and not listened to. So he starts yelling and all of a sudden I had an urge to pee so I tried to go to the hallway to go to the bathroom and he blocks my way every time. Then after giving up on that idea I start folding laundry again and he starts shoving me so I start yelling “stop” and he asks why and shoves harder almost hitting me so I said “are we really starting this physical shit again” so I went to go get my shoes on and open the door when yet again he blocks my way by holding the door handle and puts his fist up and says “don’t make me hit you”. I just stood there, I didn’t look at him and didn’t talk to him. After forever he finally went into another room and I went to go use the bathroom. He follows me and tries to start a normal conversation, I still ignore him which only pisses him off and says “I guess I’ll go kill myself” and leaves towards the kitchen. I hear banging so I jump off the toilet and see what he did and he looks at me and says what. I didn’t see a knife or blood so I went back to the toilet to try and finish. I then start looking for a pair of pants I was folding before the fight start and after ignoring him again he screams at the top of his lungs my name. I look at him and says are you going to talk to me and I said “why would I talk to someone who’s going to hurt me” and he said “like you don’t hurt me” and I said “I never threaten to hit you or actually hurting you” and he says “you ignoring me hurts” and after being talked over and not being listened to I went to the kitchen to sit down. He follows and I still ignore him and he grabs a knife and starts to “cut” himself and I said “you’re explaining that to everyone, not me” then he stabs the counter then bangs his head on the counter then leaves saying “fine I’ll just leave” so he leaves, I didn’t hear anything so I get up and look and he’s in the hallway and looks like he’s crying. He goes to turn around and before he sees me I go back to sit down and act like I didn’t get up. He comes to me and apologizes. Like it was supposed to fix everything. Then he says that he’s like he hurt himself, that it was better than hurting me and he doesn’t understand why I’m not tho one who hasn’t left yet. I have gone through years of being abused and walked on and I’m still expected to be strong and act like nothing gets to me. I can’t handle it when people reach for my throat area, there ha e been many times I lay awake and think about my head being hit and slammed into. How many times our daughter watched. How many times do I have to go through this before I’m the one who breaks and pins him down or hurts him, or leave and never coming back. Some times I’m so scared to leave this situation because I don’t want my daughters taken away from me, or him. I’m scared to leave this situation because what if he does kill him self, it would be because of me. I’m scared to leave because he really is the one I love and I know we can get past this because from February till now we did it, no fights or threats. But sometimes I wonder if anybody really cared about what I went through. Sometimes I really want some empathy, for someone to listen to me complain about my past without someone saying I should leave him or telling me I’m stupid. Or telling me he’s an asshole. I know who I married. I know I’m stupid and I know i should have left in December the first time he hurt me. I wish he would realize just how much he really hurt me and just hold me. I wish I was treated like I’m a human grown adult instead of some strange child who doesn’t get anything. I understand a lot more than what people think.