There is not a day that goes by without me thinking of my husband.  He wakes me up each night or early morning.  It is a toss up which of two aches wakes me first, the sharp pain in rolling over on the shoulder he damaged, or the deep sorrow at losing him every single night and day. He decimated my life. My dreams. All of my young life I dreamed of being a wife and mother--I always knew I would be one of the very best at both. And I was. I still am.

I gave everything I was to be there for him, to even anticipate any possible want or need he had, and he did not lack for much. But it was never enough. Not enough to keep him from pouring another drink, and another... or lighting up his bong.  Or bolting for no good reason out the door, after instigating yet another argument or tense situation. He'd try to start a fight, then get frustrated fast that I mostly ended up crying in confusion, instead of fighting back. Then he'd snarl at me that I was "pathetic," and "why would he want to stay here?!"

I'd actually go into a deeper depression then, as he slammed the door, lying that he'd be back in a couple of hours. I knew he wasn't coming back. I hadn't truly done anything wrong. I don't mean that I'm some sweet innocent or that I don't want to take responsibility. I mean I TRULY had NOT done ANYTHING wrong.

Sometimes when he was out of town on "business," he'd hold fake telephone calls with me, when his newer female interests showed up. He'd pretend to be answering a fake something I'd never even said. He'd react vehemently to, seriously, complete silence on my end. He'd go on about this fake argument for show with people in attendance to soak it all up: his bad wife, mean wife, "pushing his buttons...well, I'm not going to let you do that Julia!" Me, still not saying a word, but, "Why are you pretending we're fighting right now? Who's there? Why are you doing this?"

He hates me, right? That's the only thing that makes sense. Except that I haven't earned his hate. I exhausted myself trying to explain things better, do things better, give him his boys' days, cook, clean, mend, heal him, love him.  It was never good enough.

So what's a girl to do? Her husband screams obscenities at her, throws her against a wall twice over a bong around our baby, slugs her across her jaw when he finally comes home after a weekend away from his family when we planned a family weekend... Then wrenches her arm up and back to frisk her forcefully... Police reports...judges... Hospital bills and weeks off work without pay...

So what's a girl to do? To help herself and her child from their husband and father?

He told me we were a burden when I told him to choose between drugs/alcohol or his wife and child. He was cavalier over stair rail, gave us the "Peace out!" sign, and said, "Bye-bye!!"

My husband has no allegiance. No respect. No honor. And a huge incapacity to feel for anyone other than himself, his wants... At whatever moment they occur to him.  He cannot sustain the pimage he claims to be.

He doesn't pay child support. Once in  awhile he puts some cash into my account, but it hasn't happened in months. He doesn't even call to talk to our son.  There were sparse times he'd call for several days in a row. Just like when he'd ask me out somewhere special, have me spend the night, tell me how amazing and wonderful and perfect it could be again, then disappear for days on end again.  He hasn't spoken to our son over the phone in months. Maybe half a year now. I try to reinforce to our child that Scott not calling or showing up has NOTHING to do with our son, and everything to do with Scott. Scott is a bad dad. He is what people call a "dead-beat-dad."

My husband, our son's father, is 35 years old, handsome, intelligent, charming, talented and unable to hold a decent, real job for more than several months.  He'll get the job! But he'll also lose it and it does not garner him the position or lauding he expects in his original grandiose projections. He is also what people call a "Disney-Daddy," a term I was instructed means a father who is good-time playmate, all fun and laughs in public, but not the same man at all when the curtain closes and the lights go down. He is also what the psychological community call a "sociopath" (more recently referred to as an "anti-social personality disorder").

Today my husband said he would sign away all father's rights to our only son, so that he could avoid paying any past due, current, or continued child support. My husband, our child's father would rather write off our son in avoidance of doing the right thing: taking care of our son.

I am sick to my stomach. It makes me sick to my stomach and sick to my heart.  I am falling apart on this one.  That the man I chose to marry, the man with whom I conceived and gave birth to our child with...wants nothing to do with me or his only son.

There are so many things wrong with the world.  But there is nothing our beautiful child ever did to deserve his father's neglect, harm, and then abandonment. 

Our son is an incredible boy.  Not just okay. Not pretty good. But incredible.  He is a dear, giving, thoughtful, funny, hard-working, pensive, kind, intelligent, sensitive (and a bonus only to everything else, handsome) child.  There is nothing in him to cause anyone to run away, or leave him behind. Let alone his own father.

I was an incredible wife. Not just decent, not just pretty good...But incredible. you have no idea the wonderful, patient, kind, loving things I did and gave to that man. I am also dear, giving, thoughtful, sometimes amusing, intelligent, hard-working, pensive, sensitive (and sometimes, attractive) woman and wife. I was insightful and creative in trying to understand the unspoken form my husband, to assuage any hurts whether real or his imagination.  It got to the point that I would have to guess what my husband wanted, not just to make him happy as it started out, but to try to keep him from screaming and cursing at me, then our child. Or throwing things at us. Or shoving me into a wall for his bong.

Or dropping our months old infant child head first to the hard wood floor just to watch the terror as I lunged to save him. 

What kind of man does that? What kind of human being deliberately seeks to harm, maim, or destroy other human beings. Whether a grown woman who is physically weaker than a grown man, or an infant who cannot even hold his head up yet against a father who throws him to the floor...

What kind of monster did I fall for? And how will God help me to make this all right? How will my God who seems to be doling out the favors for this monster, give me a kind glance. A kindness. Betterment of my own in the face of my abandoning husband's professed good fortune...?

Goo, do you hear me? Have I done something that you do not love me God? Because my son and I were abused then abandoned, and the man who did this to your precious innocent creations is out destroying any and all that was left of us, while praising Your name for all of the good this has all evinced for him.  He is being rewarded and living life with no commitments, no shame, while his destruction has me at the edge of poverty, with a wonderful child, who is orphaned by his father, while I struggle with the aftermath of Scott's many misdeeds and his annihilation of our marriage and family. How have you turned away from me, dear God? I love You. I love him, too.  But I love our innocent son, and I have to love my self.  Because no one else seems to love me.  I wonder if you do Father. The way it's all turned out. So many years on my knees, pouring out my heart and soul to you God.  SO many years begging Scott to love his own wife, then begging You, Father, to love me too.

Everett and I deserve love, God. Please give this back to us. We deserve truth, openess, love, honor.  Please bring a man of goodness, truth, and  honor into our lives. I deserve a good husband. Everett deserves a good father.