He didn’t “beat” me, not in the stereotypical abusive husband notion.
This is a vent, rambling thoughts of Special K, the physically abusive, finanicaly abusive, and emotionally abuse, manipulative, lying, do nothing addict I married.
I can do my own victim shaming here and recognize my lack of boundaries I had, fuck still have. Albeit these struggles I’ve had are all too common among those of us who have been at the mercy of an abuser. Go easier on myself.
Reality is his, he is an extremely violent man who seems completely void to the concept of remorse. That thought just sent chills down my entire body. Knowing someone didn’t care they *could have killed you* is so very much different from knowing in every ounce of your being, they *could kill* you and nothing of their past has been that profound in themselves to not ever want another human to feel that.
It’s something that sits in you. There is no amount of therapy that can make that go away if that person who did it to you, doesn’t seem the ill bit fazed about it. The idea one can have PTSD from an assault, if you asked my abuser, it isn’t real. Nothing I feel or felt wasn’t minimized by him.
He had been violent before last October. Only under the influence of drugs, the same drugs he used when he broke an unknown and innocent mans hand. The same drugs he was on when he left his daughter in a movie theater to get high – only to have the police called when he was so strung out that he couldn’t find where he left is oh so important child…the one he hasn’t seen since that day.
The same drug that has made him, what 10+ locked wards with clinically drug induced psychosis (being psychotic doesn’t equate to turning into a violent human being).
I haven’t even scratched the surface of his drug using antics, or his high on “spice” Lord of Baltimore stint. Nothing says put down the pipe like beating the hell out of some random person at a gas station, dousing him with gas and telling this poor soul he’s going to light him on fire. Don’t fret though, special K was not held to any level of accountability. He played the crazy card, that day he was a delightful mix of the “joker” and “batman” – same time, that’s classic talent folks.
He walked away from assaulting a random person, while Special K is a card carrying felon now, it was pure manipulation of the State of Marylands “NCR” laws.
You know, the insanity plea. Which is such an injustice to those with mental health issues that are truly out of ones control by being organic in nature.
“Not Criminally Responsible”…he’s taken that to heart in everything since. He has admitted to me he also smoked crack. Like real, hardcore drug doing crack. Takes all the fun out of saying someone is a crack addict. He even has to wonder why he isn’t allowed near his child??
During our marriage he didn’t work a day – not one. He pissed away a 6 figure career where he was a respectable professional who lived and acted with integrity and character of the person I knew growing up.
And I defended him, his lack of ability to do anything of value. He was depressed, he was recovering… he just needed *time*. Time to get over his 6 months of running the streets of Baltimore thinking he was some fictional movie character, being used by everyone, robbed of his computers, right around 100k stolen, buying hotel rooms for his new gaggle of homeless besties, robbed of things of value – fuck they stole his car twice, that’s dedication to the cause.
His “recovery” of this was the utmost farce. I feel for it, for his lies, his hiding, his “relapse”.
Today I’m pushing through his mental abuse of these past years. Not easy.
When is unstable and disgustingly seeped in denial mommy came to save him, because poor Special K was sitting in jail on a straight $100k bail because I had the audacity to press charges.
I’m *still* climbing out of the hell.
I’m irritated at myself and at him, because while he is busy being homeless and playing the system living for almost free. I needed my garage space, today, in the present. Even though he’s been asked a multitude of times to get the shit that I’ve come across, put in there so I don’t have any of his shit in my house, for him to be a grown up and make plans to get his boxes he had in storage.
He hasn’t lived here, he hasn’t paid any bills, hasn’t offered anything. Nothing.
I let some shit stay in my garage because poor Special K needed time to make those arrangements.
Ya, ok. Why would he give a fuck about how anything impacts anyone but him and whatever illusion of ‘friends’ he has while he’s avoiding sober and actual living…
To the best of my knowledge he still doesn’t pay any child support, but hey, he left that kid to get high so the expectations should be equally low anyway.
Here I am again, my life being altered because he can’t be bothered to move a *maybe* pick up trucks worth of stuff.
He does, however, have the money and apparently the status of being single.
He says he wasn’t on drugs this day where he shinned so bright, he was only drinking…
Wives are throwaway now a days anyway, why care about any of that nonsense of the wife you tried to throw out a second story window.
Why not, instead just be a member on a mail order wife dating site, drinking “occasionally” is easier than the wife had, I’m sure a lot easier when he’s going for the 19yo age range. Gross.
I’d say the upside of that is his daughter is now only a few years younger than his ideal dating age range of just legal – they could share clothes. His last attempt at picking up a chick didn’t go so well. I guess he moved on from picking up dates in a locked ward. He ponied up the big bucks for online dating.
Isn’t it darling he used a picture I took of him on vacation to find a newer and easier model! The irony it’s a Minion, that was the movie he took his kid to watch, the movie he left her at to get high.
Now it’s a dating profile pic 😉 The irony here….
He is Special K for a reason after all.
My garage will be empty and I can use it for my own needs now… 16+ months was enough time being rent free storage for his left over stuff.
Of course, everyone he ever claimed to love was left too, always stay true to yourself.