I never planned on ever creating a blog. I guess that now I feel a need to do it. I know no one will ever read these posts and if they do, they probably won’t read through all of them. To those who actually do read any of these posts, I thank you for listening. Now, to continue with my complaining about life. Lol.
I’m an 18 year old woman who has always had a hard time getting along in life. I spent most of my minorhood as an immature person. I craved for attention that didn’t hurt me. Throughout most of my schooling career, I was teased mercilessly. This, in addition to being molested brutially from ages 6 to almost 13, had my self-esteem under 60 feet of shit. I’ve tried to become mature and responsible, but without real success until I met Ray. He changed me a lot.
Ray is twice my age. He’s 37 years old. He is fit, sweet, and handsome. We met the same day he moved into the place next door. I moved in with him the next day, mostly out of rebellion towards my grandmother. That was September 25th, 2007. I’ve been with him every day since then. We just moved into our own apartment. It’s subsidized housing and the rent is only $53 a month. Not bad for my first apartment. Ray’s helped me a lot. He helped me find a place of my own, helped me do things a normal adult does, and is trying to get me to act more mature. All would seem perfect, but not so.
Ray is a drinker. He likes 211s and another type of beer that I cannot recall the name of. It’s a black can with yellow design. Starts with an “S”. I like to drink myself, mostly Seagram’s Wine Coolers (Flavored Beer) and wine such as Strawberry White Zenfandale. Anyway, Ray becomes so different when he drinks. He becomes so agitated that I can just see him wanting to kill something. He forgets how strong he is and sometimes hurts me without meaning to. He also becomes verbally abusive.
I thought I could put with it because I’ve fallen deep in love with him. He’s given me everything, but cannot stop his absive behavior when he’s drunk. I’d worked so hard to raise my self-esteem, but it’s being torn down by the man I love. When he’s drunk, he doesn’t even seem to care. He’s gotten me so stressed out that I’ve actually become physically abusive towards him. Last night, he accused me of being a trick and a whore. He wouldn’t stop abusing me and I couldn’t stand it any longer. I slapped him across the face. He said he would never raise a hand to me. He broke that. He slapped me back.
He slapped me back. I just don’t know what to do anymore. I love him and yet he’s tearing me down. I don’t want to be without him just yet. I still need his support. But what good is that support if every other day I feel like dying because of his careless words. I pray to Allah that I will have an answer soon to these doubts.
