Truth

About 9 years ago mike asked me if he could get high. I truly thought he meant marijuana, and said no problem. He said he got some for me too, but i turned it down cause i dont really like losing control over myself. What he lit was in a marijuana pipe, but it was not marijuana. It smelled like the smell when we were scrapping metal and his saw got too hot. Stunk so very, very bad- burning metal. I went into our room and closed the door. I kept smelling that smell for a few weeks. Every now and then i would catch a whiff and it was so gross, i started carrying lysol with me everywhere. A few months later i found a pot-pipe in the bathroom and i knew it wasnt his, i assumed it was left behind by his daughter. I put it in my dresser for her for the next time she came. 2 days later Mike came screaming into our room demanding the pipe, where is it, what did i do with it, why am i hiding it? i explain that i found his daughters pipe and was keeping it safe, no big deal. He got it out of my dresser and went into the bathroom. Why? He smokes pot in the living room, whats with all the anger and secrecy? And then that nasty smell again... This time after smoking it, mike left. And as usual, after he left, Nathan came in my room to talk. We were 2 very lonely people and without Mike we could talk easier. It was Nathan that explained to me finally what that nasty smell was. Mike was back on crack.

This man got in my car and said he USED TO smoke crack but didnt anymore because he would be a millionaire if he had never started.  I had been putting up with him talking about our sex life at the bar, i put up with him being such a horrible father, i even put up with the garbage all over the apartment. But crack was a hole new ballgame. People are fighting to get marijuana legal... marijuana is a PLANT, until humans "fix" it. Leave it alone, it's like aloe- God gave it healing abilities. Crack is not even close to being Godsent. it's never the same twice, and depending on who you buy it from you could be inhaling laxative, gasoline, any number of junk. THATS why my apartment was smelling nasty.
For 9 years i have lived in this nasty stink. He knows i hate it, but its stronger than me. When i reached out on facebook a few years ago, Mikes sister and brother told his mom i was starting rumors. No, i just didnt know where to go for help. I only know 1 other person that has done hardcore drugs. I'll come back to that... When mike lost his license do to his DUI, he made the mistake of getting violent with me, in my face screaming that i was taking him to go buy dope. Imagine my surprise when  we pulled up outside his sister-in-law, Liz's house.  At this point i began keeping records and watching for patterns. I knew he also had a friend in Tacoma but didnt know who or where. And then he got violent again. And I found myself outside the GoldenWest Saloon in Tacoma. On the way home from this en devour i drove with my lights off, hazards on, flashed any car i could- hoping that WA state patrol would pull me over. I could have been on fire for all the luck it got me.

Fast forward to tonight. Even when he gets in my face and screams at me that my mom is a whore, my grandma is a slut, my fake dad doesn't love me and my brother  killed himself to get away from me (This is his basic script) it used to hurt but now its really just empty words.

His mom, brother, my family-- they all tell me to get away before he gets physical- he and Lena used to beat each other until bruises had bruises. and thats what mike wants- he WANTS me to fight back, speak up, say something- ANYTHING! That way he has an excuse to beat me. So i dont give him that. i just sit there, watching this shell of a human being that thinks screaming the "Nword" at the TV and calling me a bitch makes him a better man. I just stay quiet, losing respect that he didnt deserve in the first place. Until tonight. 

After drinking at the bar for 5 hours, he was mad when he came home, because his sister is dying and nobody in the family told him. He hates her and has cursed her to the depths of hell, so theres that. Unfortunately,  his brother was keeping me up to date. It wasn't my place to tell him and i wasn't stupid enough to tell him when he's drunk, and he's either drunk or asleep, so i wasn't committing that suicide. His mom finally told him when the sister came home, and shit hit the fan. This was Christmas Eve 2019, 2 days ago.  Hes been smoking for almost 2 days straight.  

Tonight he came home from the bar, ready to fight. What would it take to light the fuse? Aha! I dodnt make dinner! *gasp* Well, hes just going to have to make his own dinner. Which he did, breaking a carving knife by slamming it down on the counter top. He brought his steak into the living room and smashed the plate over and over until it broke as well. then he smashed the pieces until they were tuny and bouncing around everytime he hit them. He started in on the "your mom's a slut...etc" as he was pounding the plate pieces and kept pointing his butter knife at me. Yeah...butter knife. I dont know why and i wasnt about to ask.  He got thru with his diatribe about my family and called his crack dealer, then left to go buy. 

This is where is gets different. I knew he would calm down and want to call or text and be all lovey and sweet, but im done. Im over this circle. So i blocked his number. And seconds...literally 2 or 3 seconds later i had a voicemail from him. He should still be driving so i didnt want to hear a buttdial voicemail. Until i got another. And a third. So i checked. And i dont really know what to say, because i started typing this just wanting to get stuff off my chest, and now i realize that if anybody reads this... 

He threatened to kill me. He said he's going to come home and beat the shit out of me.  The 2nd message said i fucked with his money(??!) and he was going to kill me. I have these, his voice threatening to kill me. All these years...everything that everyone said...i was the only one in his corner even when i hated him. And now he can stand alone.  I called him to get the tone of his voice and he was already at the Golden West in Tacoma; he was laughing and oh, he didnt mean what he said, he forgot he took money and it was a mistake. No...The mistake was leaving 2 voicemails with death threats.  So there you go... from the first to the last.  I dont know where i go from here, but stick with me, ok?