Enough is Enough

I’m going to be one hundred percent (100%) honest in this blog post, and this is also the most personal post. So far, all of my posts have been about the races I’ve un, training, and nothing else. It’s time for a change, and its time to start sharing about myself with you.

Recently, I have been reflecting on how lucky I am to be where I am now. But I also know I have a long way to go. I want to share with you some of my life with my ex-husband, and how I left.

In 2008 I got married to someone whom I thought I loved; I thought I loved him because I was desperate to get away from my ex-boyfriend (whom I left years prior) and his continued abuse. Six (6) months after my wedding, he completely changed. I started noticing things, things I ignored. What things? Money was constantly missing from my bank account, the gas for my car was constantly gone the day after I filled up my tank and came straight home.

On my wedding day

The money I’d give to him to pay bills wasn’t going to pay bills; the electricity in my house was shut off numerous times because of it. His physically looks were changing; his skin was looking like he was rotting, and he blamed it on genetics. His teeth were also rotting, which I thought was just due to the fact that he had no dental insurance.

My home, no matter how hard I cleaned and organized, was continuously looking like a hoarders home. I was sick and tired of living in filth, surrounded by useless junk and empty boxes. He kept everything and I mean everything for no reason. He also was cheating on me constantly, which I was not surprised at because I wouldn’t even let me touch me, wouldn’t let him kiss me, and I wouldn’t have sex with him. The lack of physical intimacy was the theme throughout the entire relationship and throughout the entire marriage. We slept in separate rooms since day one (1), and there was no communication between us. When he did speak speak, it was filled with anger, violence, and hatred. He was always looking for a fight. Everything was about him, the things he missed out on growing up, and how he is always the victim. Everything he told me about himself was nothing but a lie.

Stories and Lies…

He had told me that while he was in boot camp, he was an enlisted Marine, he had punched his C.O. (Commanding Officer) in the face because he got yelled at. He had also told me that he had attended sniper school, and was temporarily a firefighter on base. I had managed to get a hold of his S.R.B. (Service Book Record) and found out differently. He never made it to sniper school, never was a firefighter, and never punched his Commanding Officer. The Marine Corps let him out of his contract because he was unable to handle the stress he was under while in boot camp. Since he was unable to handle and manage the stress, the Marine Corps gave him the rank of Lance Corporal so they can issue him a medical discharge. He never finished boot camp.

He also told me how he supposedly murdered fifteen (15) people “in order to protect” me and he even went into detail about the murders. I just rolled my eyes at him. He also went on about how he is the victim of everything with his ex-girlfriends, how they cheated on him, and how when he was in high school he was left out of so many fun things.

He also told me stories of how he physically abused his previous girlfriends. He told me he chocked one of them because she had tapped him on the shoulder wrong to get his attention, he told me how he “threw” another girlfriend across the room because she wouldn’t stop “yelling” at him. He also told me how he punched one of his previous girlfriends in the face, I forgot the reason he told me but it didn’t matter. The more stories he told me, the more I realized that I couldn’t stay. Next, he would start physically abusing me. I was scared for not only myself, but for my young son as well.

Trying to get an Education…

While all of this was going on, I was working hard to transfer to California State University, San Bernardino to obtain my B.A. in Criminal Justice. During all of this with him, my studies were lacking and my grades were not the best. I received more ‘C’, ‘D’, and ‘F’ grades then I care of admit. It was so embarrassing because this is not who I am. I am better than this and I knew it.

He was jealous of me, he was jealous of what I was working toward, and he was jealous of the praises I received from my professors, my department chair, and my peers. He started to ensure that I couldn’t sleep at night by constantly yelling at my three (3) year old son (from a previous relationship which is a longer story), punching my refrigerator, having “friends” over to get drunk.

Moving in with his Parents

No thanks to him, I lost my apartment and we were forced to move in with his parents house, which is disgusting because no one cleans. Spoons were wrapped up in paper towels and on the counter in front of the coffee maker, no counter room to prepare meals, the dining room table was piled high with magazines and who knows what else. There was no place to sit at the table and eat. The carpet is held together with silver duck tape, bathroom literally falling apart and the showers are covered with black mold (including the walls). There’s a lot more but I think you get the picture.

I was constantly sick living there including an intentional infection, skin infections, etc. He even took my money and used it for whatever he wanted this included money my car insurance sent me to get my car fixed. His dad would even take money from my school disbursements and would either give it to my ex-husband, or use it to pay some of their own bills without even asking me. Talk about helping yourself.

Mistresses and Debt. 

This was the worst. He nailed any female that would believe his stories and lies. He went as far as to buying three (3) of his mistresses cell phones and putting them all on his plan. Even though the cell phone plan was in his name, I paid the bill. I even paid for their cell phones. He took six hundred dollars from me in order to pay for the cell phones, take them out, and  his drugs as well.

He would claim that he was going over to my parents to help clean out the attic and help with things. I believed him, and he was gone until almost three o’clock in the morning. He’d also claim he was going to work for some guy he knew, but he’d be done until late night and hardly come home with any money. He’d say that he didn’t get paid much. Turns out all of this was used for his meth (which he went back to using again after one year of sobriety), and he was cheating on me as well.

He made sure that one of his mistresses, which was an old high school girlfriend, received my Nintendo Wii as a Christmas present. A lot of my personal possessions he gave to his mistresses. I was angry and I made it known to him. He didn’t care, all he claimed was he doesn’t know where it is and he can’t find anything.

I Lost Everything…

The first thing I lost was my personal checking account due to being overdrawn hundreds of dollars, which was at the hands of him. He always wanted to blow money by taking his friends out, buying them things, drinks, food, etc. This also includes his mistresses, and even used the money as he saw fit, mainly he needed to buy his drugs. The joint account was also gone, again, being overdrawn hundreds of dollars.

The second thing I lost was my health and fitness. I had gained so much weight due to depression. I weight 375 pounds, which is the heaviest I’ve ever been in my life, I didn’t even gain weight when I was pregnant. I was slowly declining, and it wasn’t good.


In 2011 at my heaviest weight in my life

Meanwhile, I had to work double shifts at two jobs in order to try and keep the apartment I worked hard on my own to get, to keep the electricity on, food on the table, gas in my car, and other life necessities. He was not contributing to anything excepting taking money from me, and tearing down what I had built, and was building brick by brick. His continued jealously, his continued mental (emotional) abuse, his continued violence keeping myself and my son in constant fear, his short temper, his hatred, his anger, and his overall personality destroyed my life.

This is was the end, and it was headed for a quick decline that wouldn’t stop until it hit the ground. It hit the ground, hard. I had lost it all, everything I worked for was gone. He made us homeless, I had lost my job, my education was down the drain, and I was sick and tired of it. By the time it was all said and done, I wasn’t able to graduate with my B.A. like I had wanted to. I had not only failed a required statistics course, but I had also failed to pass two classes with the grade of a “C” or better.

Planning and Executing my Escape 

In late 2011 I got an apartment back home in Orange County. I had convinced him that the divorce was just for career purposes. He wasn’t cool with it at all, but after he talked to his mom who told him a lot of her friends are divorcing for career purposes, he was now completely on board. I felt relieved because I dodged a violent episode. I was far from escaping because I still relied on him to pay the rent that I couldn’t afford.

I had also just started working again, and it is the best job I have ever had. Through the people whom I have the pleasure of working with, I started to gain confidence in myself, self-esteem, and they saw something in me, and they sure as hell made sure I saw it. This job was the start of a second chance of life, it showed me who I am and that fire isn’t dead. I had also started to slowly gain control of my life. The weight started coming off due being back in Orange County, in my own apartment, cooking again.


In late 2012 with the weight still coming off

In 2013 I was at my breaking point. He was still telling stories about throwing chairs at people because they didn’t have work for him (he is now a truck driver at this point), he wasn’t getting work, his truck was always, always broken down, and now he claimed he tried to commit suicide. Not to mention he was bringing the people he was training over to my place to make fun of me in front of them. I had enough of him and his bulls**t.

At this point my divorce was final but I was still relying on him for rent. I was trying my best to put on an act with him because I was still afraid of him. My dad reached out to me and told me to come back home. It would be easier to rebuild my life as well as my credit and finances. Plus, he could help me with taking care of my son. I took my dad’s advice and moved in. It was perfect timing as my ex-husband is now so deep into drugs that as I was moving, he decided not to pay the rent. Leaving me homeless with no money to move. I had to borrow money from my dad to move. Thankfully, my dad lives close to my old place in Irvine.

Story continues in “Building a New Foundation”  

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