Two nights ago I got home from work and DH had dinner already ready for us to eat. We were talking about what it means to love God. Because he kept on interrupting me when it was my turn to speak, I changed the subject to something else. We are doing some family things that require us to have an attorney, but our attorney resides in Chicago and we live in California. He told me he asked the attorney to send any mail to DH’s aunt’s house. I was asking him why he did that, if she needed something from us I wouldn’t know and his aunt would have to forward that mail to us every time. He got angry and started raising his voice. I was upset he raised it so I told him to go to heck and he called me names. :mad: I was furious so I just got up from the dinner table, grabbed a jacket, my purse and car keys and left.
When I came back 2 hrs later, he was in our bedroom w/the door closed. Since it was 9pm I went to the kitchen got some cereal and let our dog inside the house. He’s a big dog, so we can’t keep him inside all day. I turned the tv on and started watching 24. Then he opens the door and comes to the family room and asks if I had spoken to my parents about a job he’s doing for them, all I said was “why don’t you call them?”. He got mad and asked again, and I responded the same way. Since I didn’t give him a yes or no answer he got mad and kicked our dog :mad: :mad: so hard the poor thing screamed.
I got up and went up to him so angry asking him why he had to hit my dog. I didn’t think of what I was doing so I almost slapped him, but when I was going to do it, I stepped backwards and accidentally I stepped on my dog’s paw so he cried really loud (my poor Bear). I completely forgot about being angry at DH and went straight to Bear but he wouldn’t let me touch him. He finally calmed down and I made sure I didn’t hurt his paw. I was still angry at DH for having hit the dog so I pulled out the futon to make it a bed. So I ended up “sleeping” there that night.
Then in the morning I got up, took a shower and while getting ready for work DH started getting ready to go to my parents’. I grabbed my stuff and headed to the door. He called me to the kitchen and I went up to him. He said he had made me lunch. I didn’t want to take it because I was still mad about the dog thing. I don’t really remember how we started arguing again. I told him not to ever get near my dog again, and he said it was my fault that he had hit him. I couldn’t believe he was blaming me. He called me a child for defending the dog. I said if anyone was a child it was him for taking it against an innocent creature. Then DH got angry and said he didn’t do anything yesterday for me to get mad, I reminded him he started calling me names during dinner the night before and he called me whe. :mad: I was so mad he had called me that I slapped him. I shouldn’t have but I did. I had told him before never to call me that or bch, because those words make me angry. Next thing I remember he had slapped me and pushed me so hard I fell to the floor and flew out of the kitchen. :crying::mad:
I couldn’t believe what he had just done; I still can’t believe he did that. :bigyikes: I grabbed my purse and ran to the car. I turned it on and tried calling my sister. No answer. My next call was to my mom. I didn’t think it through before I was already telling her what had happened. My mom was angrier than me and called my aunt so she could pick me up and she called my boss telling her I couldn’t go to work. All day was a big blur, I felt so violated. No man in my family has ever hit a woman; no woman in my family has ever gotten hit by a man. I couldn’t believe I had. DH called me many times trying to see if I was coming home or what I was going to do. I went home in the evening to pick up some clothes for a few days and I left.
I slept at my sister’s last night but he called several times. I told him I didn’t want to speak to him. I apologized for having slapped him but that what he did wasn’t excused by anything. I know I did wrong too, but the fact that he hit his wife… we’ve only been married for a year. I’m afraid he’ll do it again. I’m afraid that if I decide not to leave him and have a family w/him, I’ll have to explain to our future children why I have bruises on me… (continued)