Domestic Violence

My DV Story Chapter 6

Read Chapter 5 here

 

So Tina* and I arrived home from the gym. The plan was for the three of us to watch a movie, but as we pulled in, I could hear the stereo. Mike* and loud music never ended well. My gut feeling was right, it was about to go down.

When we walked in, I made a conscious effort to be happy, but for whatever reason, Mike had already decided that I was going to be a downer. He was happy and polite with Tina, his niece, but every time he opened his mouth to me, venom came out. It was like he was trying to be cool in front of Tina by putting me down, rolling his eyes when I said something, making shitty comments.

I ignored it. The last thing I wanted was to start a fight. But he continued. I don’t know how much he’d drank at this point, but enough that he was starting to get drunk. He was more animated and louder than usual. Then he brought out the tequila. He got angry when I said I didn’t want a shot, told me I was a boring bitch. I took a shot to keep him happy.

He kept going for a couple hours, slinging insults and talking to me like I was a piece of shit. Then he told me that he was going to “cave my head in”. Tina was very uncomfortable, but she’d done a shot of tequila too, and wanted to wait a while before driving. She was stranded there, listening to her uncle belittle and threatened his fiancé and her friend.

Tina and I went and sat outside. I was angry that I was putting in so much effort to stay positive that night, and keep him happy, and nothing was good enough for him. He always hated it if I turned the music down, so I specifically didn’t touch it, even though it was deafeningly loud. Tina told me that she hated seeing her uncle treat a woman that way. I told her that I can’t put up with it anymore. All he does is drink and treat me like shit, while I work and support him, financially and emotionally. I knew that I needed to leave, I just didn’t know how. She told me that she’d come pick me up in the morning so we could go for a drive and make a plan.

Mike came out and sat with us. He continued his insults, and finished off the bottle of tequila. Then he finished the rest of the beer in the fridge. Then he finished all of the wine in the house. That was it, he’d literally drank every drop of alcohol in the house. He was loud and slurring, and not making any sense. He was talking about how he wanted to cook a BBQ for Tina, but he never got up to do it, he just talked about it, and then he started to get angry at me because I was “stopping him” for cooking it. I told him I wasn’t stopping him from doing anything, that he was welcome to cook a BBQ if he wanted. He still didn’t.

About another hour went by and he started to sober up. He made himself a cup of coffee and Tina decided that she was ready to drive home.

As soon as Tina left I went inside and folded laundry. You know when you’re angry and anxious, and you need to do something to keep you busy? I needed to be doing something, so laundry it was.

 

Below is an accurate account of what happened, developed from a recording taken that night. As much as I wish I could post it word for word to show you how bad it really was, I don’t want to get myself into trouble. This summary really doesn’t do it justice, and the actual recording is even worse. None of these details have been exaggerated. Please note, some people may find some of the content below confronting and may not want to read on.

Note: The way he talks to me below is typical of how he would talk to me when I’ve mentioned him slinging insults and calling me names in previous posts.

 

Mike comes in the bedroom and accuses me of talking shit about him with Tina and tells me that I’m the cause of his depression. He’s angry, and tells me that I don’t do anything around the house, despite the fact that the only reason we had anywhere to live was because I was paying all of the bills.

I’m happy to admit that I’m not as pedantic as he was with the house, he was OCD, but I’m not a ferral like he always made me out to be. He tells me that I treat him like a piece of shit because I don’t clean the house constantly and I disagree.

He tells me he doesn’t want to get married and I agree, and then I ask him who is going to leave. He says that he will and I ask him when, apparently whenever he gets a job.

Then he threatens to cut my head off if I ever talk to Tina or anyone else in his family again. He tells me to stop going to the gym with Tina, and I tell him that we both go to the same gym, and that I’ll go if I want to go, to which he says I’ll get hurt if I do.

I tell him that she was very uncomfortable being here, and he says it’s because I’m a fuck head. I tell him that no, she was uncomfortable because he was drunk again, like when we went to the fireworks, and he denies being drunk. He tells me that I’ve got problems for thinking he’s drunk.

I ask him what he would do if he saw a man treating Tina the way he was treating me that night, he says that he’d laugh and calls me a piece of shit and a dictator for controlling his drinking and music that night. I point out the fact that he’d dunk all of the alcohol in the house, and that I hadn’t touched or commented on the music.

He’s angry because he thought I made Tina leave before he made a BBQ, and I told him that it was late and that she wanted to go home, that it had nothing to do with me.

He calls me an immature fuck and I call him an asshole. He tells me that he doesn’t give a fuck about me and calls me a piece of shit, and a cunt, and throws the washing basket at me.

He brings up his other niece, and the fact that I encouraged her to stay in high school, and tells me I’m a patronizing piece of shit and a fuck head for it.

Then he tells me that he’s going to hang me and my parents for turning his niece, Tina, against him. He says that Tina isn’t welcome back in the house, and I tell him that she didn’t do anything wrong. He tells me that he didn’t do anything wrong.

Then he pulled all of the washing and pillows off of the bed, onto the floor to illustrate the fact that he’d needed to pick up the pillows that day to vacuum. What happened here, is I woke up to go to WORK and he was still in bed. I didn’t pile all of the pillows on the bed while he was still in it sleeping, so he had to pick them up to vacuum.

He starts pushing me and I tell him to stop. Now I’m backed into a corner and he’s yelling about how I shouldn’t make this Tina’s problem, and he punches me in the shoulder.

I yell back and say not to hit me, and he gets angrier and grabs me by the throat, still yelling not to make it Tina’s problem. I struggle and fight with his hand and get free. He tries to grab me again, but I fight his hand and he grabs be by the neck of the shirt instead.

I lose it. I yell at him to get out of my house. He yells at me to get out, and calls me a lazy fucking bitch. I tell him to get out again, and he tells me not to use his niece against him because I’m a lazy piece of shit. I tell him that doesn’t make sense, and he just repeats himself, and then smacks me on the side of my head.

He spews a string of insults and then tells me to follow him to the bathroom. I knew there was a greater chance of getting hurt in there because all of the surfaces were hard. I wanted to stay in the bedroom because it was safer. He grabs me by the arm and starts to pull me to the bathroom and I yell not to touch me.

He’s angry because I’d left about 4 bobby pins on the bathroom counter, and he’d put them in the drawer directly below. He goes into the bathroom and gets the drawer out of the vanity, brings it back, and throws it at my head. Luckily I moved to the side, so it missed me and hit the glass sliding door behind me.

He comes over and has me bailed up in another corner now. He leaned down and was right in my face yelling at me about having to put my bobby pins in the drawer. At this point I start crying and just repeating please over and over.

He’s screaming in my face, and calling me a mole. Tells me that it’s good that I’m crying, and that I’d better cry the next time Tina comes around too. He tells me that he wants to crush me and punches his fist into the palm of his other hand in front of my face.

I’m holding a dress that I’d picked up, I don’t know why, in both hands against my chest. He grabs my wrists with one hand, and grabs the lamp on the table and holds it above his head like he was going to hit me with it. I’m crying and pleading, just repeating please, and please stop over and over while he continues to yell.

He puts the lamp down, and gets back in my face. I’m about as small as I can make myself while standing in the corner. I stop making noise. He tells me that he’s going to put mine and my parents’ heads on a platter and laugh about it.

Then he walks to the door and turns back. He says he’s going to take a picture of me standing, crying in the corner because it’s funny and calls me a pussy. He says that he used to think that he was a loser because he didn’t have a job, but that I’m the loser.

After this he went outside for a while, and when he came back he wanted to talk. It had only been about 20 minutes, and he was confused about why I didn’t want to talk to him. He’s already forgotten everything he’d just done. He got mad at me when I told him what had happened, because he didn’t believe me.

He went to bed. I laid awake on the couch.

 

Read Chapter 7 here

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*Please note, his name has been changed, although he doesn’t deserve any sort of protection or privacy, and I’m sure that most people reading this already know who he is. It wouldn’t be difficult for those who don’t, to figure it out. Still, I have to do the right thing so this doesn’t come back and bite me in the ass. 

*Other names may be changed as well to protect them from retaliation.

If you’re dealing with abuse please reach out. Your local Domestic Violence Hotline can help guide you, and you’re more than welcome to get into contact with me to talk.

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