June 14, 2008....the day my life shattered. My son was exactly 4 months old on that day. If I could just go back and change my actions on that day....but I can't. I completely regret what I did. I have learned from what I did on that day, and I am not that person any more.
It was a Saturday. I was still healing from my 2 surgeries. I was under great stress and pressure, as it was solely up to me to take care of my family. Me ex was not working. He did stay at home with my son though. I wish the roles were reversed and I could have stayed at home with my son, but I was the breadwinner, and that wasn't an option.
As I look back now, I wonder if I was also going through postpartum depression. I was informed by a doctor that postpartum depression can occur at any time during the first 6 months after a baby is born.
When my ex and I used to fight, it was always bad. I still had so much anger inside of me, and I didn't know how to talk things out rationally, and in a healthy manner. I wish that I did. There were so many times that I told me ex that I wanted help with my anger, and that I didn't like that quality about myself. There never seemed to be enough money left over for me though....not even for help, to better myself.
The next day was Father's Day. The first Father's Day that my ex would ever have. Eventhough we hadn't been getting along for a few days prior, due to the finances, I wanted to buy my ex a gift from my son to my ex for his first Father's Day. I wanted to get him a frame that said "I love my Daddy" on it. I didn't even know if there was enough money in our account for me to buy one frame though.
We lived in a 2 story house. I had just bought a deluxe swing for my son about 2 weeks prior. This swing was top notch! It could swing from side to side, or, from front to back. It had a mobile on it, and it played music. I bought my son the best they had, and he loved his new swing. I strapped him in his swing with the swing's seatbelt, and I put the swing on, along with the mobile and the music. He was happy.
I then asked my ex to come upstairs to talk about the finances. All I wanted to do was to find out how much money we had. I knew it was going to result in a fight which is why I made sure that we were away from my son. I didn't want my baby to hear us fighting. My son was secure in his swing, and he very happy swinging back and forth in it.
I was right. It turned in to an all out fight. A bad one. The worst one that we ever had. Before I proceed, I need to tell you our size difference. Being an anorexic/recovering anorexic, I never tell my weight. I know it, and my doctor knows it when I have to go to the doctor's office....but that's it. It's nobody else's business, and I don't let anybody know. I have to tell you my weight on that day though, and I am taking comfort that you, the reader, still don't know my weight, because I don't weigh as much as I did on that day (not that I was in any way overweight on that day)...and on a side note, eventhough I am skinnier now, I make sure that my weight is not at a danger level....all for the love of my son.
So here was our stats on that day. I am 5'7", and on that day I weighed 117/118 pounds. My ex is 6'3", and on that day he weighed between 265-270 pounds. As you can see, there was a big difference between us. He was a big guy. I remember that at the job that I worked at during that time, my ex came in one day, and a guy that I worked with told me after meeting seeing my ex, that he never realized how huge my ex was, and he went on to tell me that he looked like my ex could play for the Broncos. He even mentioned a position...he said something along the lines of, "He looks like he can be a linebacker for the Broncos"...."you must feel safe around him".
During the fight, I was furious. Everything just got to me. I foolishly picked up a plastic potted plant and I threw it at him. It missed him and it made a mess on the floor. I told him that he needed to clean it up. Then, I hit him on his arm. Later on, he admitted that my hit did not hurt him. After I hit him, he pinned me down to our bed. When I said pinned me down....I mean, pinned me down. He had me pinned by my ankles and my wrists. He had all of his weight on me. His reasoning? To calm me down. All it did was make me more upset. Especially when he refused to get off of me, and him being on top of me started to give me pain.
I pleaded for him to get off of me, but he didn't. I became more enraged. Keep in mind, he was on top of my stomach which had 2 operations exactly 4 months prior. I was in pain and desperate for him to get off of me. But he outpowered me.
I found my chance to break free. His arm got in front of my face, and I bit his wrist once with all of my might. I bit him in an effort to get him off of me. It worked. He got off of me.
His bite was superficial in that he didn't bleed nor did he need stitches. I did leave quite a mark though.
It was after that, which I acted in haste. I acted without thinking. I acted out of anger of what just happened. I ran downstairs (my son was still swinging peacefully in his swing) and I grabbed a paring knife. I then went upstairs where he was in the master bathroom.
I did not touch him with the knife. I did hold it up though and I threatened to hurt him if he ever did anything like that to me again. It was a bunch of words...stupid, stupid words out of anger, and out of acting out in the moment. I would never have used a knife on him. I wanted to scare him so that he would never do that to me again. No, I am not justifying what I did.
What I did was wrong. I realize that, and I truly regret what I did. I realize how out of control I was. I am so glad that I am not like that anymore, as I look back at that day, and I don't like the person that I was.
After I threatened him, I went downstairs and put the paring knife in the dishwasher, eventhough it was clean. My son was still swinging happily in his swing, and I got an ice pack for my ex's bite mark. My ex was crying and he was coming down the stairs.
I offered him the ice pack and I asked him to let me see the bite mark. He wouldn't. I told him to put the ice pack on his wrist. He kept insisting that he needed to go to the hospital because I bit him near his artery. With the way he was talking, you would think he was bleeding to death.
I offered to drive him to the emergency clinic. He didn't want me tom and he told me that he would drive himself.
He left, and I took my son out of his swing to give him a bottle. During that time, my ex and I spoke on the phone and ended up arguing. Little did I know what he was going to do next.
Before I end this post, I would like to reiterate that I regret what I did. It was WRONG. I should not have done what I did. I wish I could take what I did back, but unfortunately, I can't.
What happened next, I never would have expected.
