MPS - Part 7

This continuation has taken a few days. I had to stop writing for a bit because of the horrible flashbacks and nightmares that have become more vivid and frequent. I am ready to go on now. As I stated before, this is part of what I live with on a daily basis due to what Josh has done to me.

Valentine's Day is one of those "almost" holidays that I don't always choose to celebrate. Normally I'm alone and not in a relationship, so why celebrate? This year I was with Josh and I was unsure if celebrating this abominable relationship was really such a fantastic idea. It was a curse, not a blessing to be with this evil, devil-spawn, son-of-a-bitch.

The day started out pretty much like all the rest. Josh was drinking to see just how drunk he could get before he passed out, I was doing the usual cleaning and other household chores while walking on eggshells. Nothing good was going to come out of his drinking and I was full aware of that, yet too scared to voice my objections for fear of the physical retribution that usually followed. The tension in the house was higher than usual, I was as jumpy as a frog in a blender and my puppy-dog was hiding in the back room. My poor Beagle...even she sensed what was coming. She too had been on the receiving end of Josh's constant tirades (unbeknownst to me at the time - he would beat her while I was at work).

How the whole argument started that afternoon, is a mystery to me. Josh got that look in his eyes - the dark, burn through your soul, evil, satanic stare and he began to watch every, single miniscule move I made. He criticized, ridiculed, poked fun at everything I said or did and kept it up all day. He went so far as to come knock on the bathroom door repeatedly if he thought I took too long. I had absolutely no privacy.

According to him, I should be there to serve him, get his beer, refill his glass with Early Times (or whatever cheap ass shit he was drinking), make him something to eat, sit down with him and keep him company, wait on him hand and foot, keep the house clean, all the while simultaneously being his source of amusement. I was a one woman cooking and cleaning crew, entertainment entourage...all the while trying to take care of my animals and doing my other work.

His mood darkened, there was a sense of foreboding...I became acutely aware of his every movement, his actions, his changing mannerisms and speech. I was borderline neurotic and paranoid - and his true-to-form self hadn't even manifested yet.

Josh started arguing with me. He got up and followed me around the house as I tried desperately to put distance between the two of us. Eventually he caught me, grabbing my arm and getting in my face so he could threaten me up close and personal. Something triggered his rage and he felt the need to share it with me.

The anxiety was building like a mountain in my chest. I was having trouble breathing, thinking, moving. Was this going to be the fight where he would finally kill me? Would anyone hear me if I screamed? What would happen to my animals if I died? Would he kill them too? As the merry-go-round of thoughts went round and round in my head, as he was getting in my face to rant and rave some more, I lost control and screamed "I HATE YOU - I wish you were dead"! I couldn't take it any more. I was drawing my line in the sand. I could NOT live like this anymore, being in fear constantly for my life, having no life outside of him, fear that he would kill my animals out of sheer spite...

Suddenly Josh got this strange look on his face and turned his back to me. He went storming down the hall and into the bedroom. He left me standing in my weight-room/library shaking and wondering what he was going to to do me now. He returned about one minute later (although it seemed like forever) with a loaded shotgun.

To be continued...