Maybe its lack of control. Maybe its meant to be said. But the emotions we hide inside our selves always come out when you don't expect for them to. We lash out on the ones we love. And we say hurtful things that sometimes we don't mean to say. But once they're said and done, there isn't much you can do to take them back.
Once both of our families knew I was pregnant, David and I started planning what our life would be like having another little person practically consume all of our time. The more we tried to figure stuff out, the more my family seemed to hate every decision we made.
I became pregnant on January 9th of 2010. Two days after I turned 17, and just two weeks after David and I started dating. So we definitely rushed into things. I'm not entirely sure why we had sex so quickly. Maybe it was because no body had showed me that much attention in years. But whatever it was, it soon became apparent that David and I just might not work out as a couple.
David and I started fighting about every little thing. And no matter how the fight progressed, in the end it was always my fault. After about two or three months, it started getting a lot worse. It came to the point where he was spitting in my face and screaming hurtful things to me. I can remember the most horrible thing he ever said to me. His mother, Marissa, absolutely hated it when David would lash out at me. But she didn't do much for that either, because she would yell at me most of the time too. I guess it's just part of the Puerto Rican culture (no offense to any Puerto Ricans reading this). I can't remember what it was that David was so upset about. It all seemed to just blend together at this point. But as I stood in his room, he grabbed me by the back of the neck and whispered in my ear so that Marissa wouldn't hear, "I swear to God if you weren't pregnant I'd beat the shit out of you."
Don't ask me how I felt at that moment. I guess it was fear. But all I did through out most of David's and mines relationship, at least when ever the fights started, was blank out all emotion and take what he had to say, and sometimes do.
As time went on, I knew I had to tell my father eventually that I was pregnant. So when I called him to tell him, I made sure he was at work so there was no way he could fly to Orlando and kill me and David. This way, he could have sometime to cool down. My father is a tug boat engineer and he works for three weeks at a time. So I did plan it perfectly.
After I told my father, things between my family and I got worse. I started lashing out on my mother, taking out all the pain I felt inside from David and self regret, and throwing it at her in hateful words and actions. I can't help but cry when I think about it. If I could change anything, just one thing. It would have been how badly I treated her when I was with David. I wish I could have controlled my emotions.
Soon, my mother couldn't handle me living there anymore. So I packed up the stuff I needed and moved over into Davids apartment with him, his little sister, his mom, his moms boyfriend and the dog. Five people in a two bedroom house can get pretty stressful.
The more time David and I spent together, the worse his attitude got. I found out from his mother that he was actually supposed to be taking medication. He apparently has severe anxiety. But David refused to take it. Things quickly started getting worse between David and I. I pretty much felt like his door
mat.
He started yelling more, and soon the verbal abuse became a tag team with physical abuse. He would pull my hair, grab my arms and neck so hard I would have slight bruises. And I didn't know what to do. So I kept blanking it out. I kept pretending like it wasn't happening. All while this beautiful little life growing inside of me was telling me that I had to do something. This abuse wasn't going to stop, and it hadn't gotten better, it had only gotten worse.
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