Loving and Leaving an Abuser

When Danielle was six months old, I returned to work. Although Sean told me I could stay home with the baby, his behavior was becoming strange, and I didn’t feel I could risk losing the salary, health insurance, and future pension that I would need if I had to raise my child alone. The saving grace was the fact that Danielle’s aunt Laurie had volunteered to babysit. The months went on, and the baby was the focus of much of my existence, especially since I didn’t see her during working hours. Unfortunately, Sean began to drink fairly often. I don’t know what his reasons were. He could have been drinking because he was jealous of my attention to the baby or because of the disruption of having two children in the home. His life outside of the home at his business could also have been the reason. I never understood the reasons for someone to drink until completely drunk. I just didn’t like it, and it was certainly not something I witnessed during my childhood. At the time, I felt that he should just be able to stop, especially if he loved me and his children. If I resisted the drinking and insisted that he stop, he would eventually do that for me. Years later, when I learned more, I realized how misinformed I had been over the long painful years of our marriage. The information that I accumulated over those years did become useful to me in my teaching career, when students confided in me about their difficulties and heartbreaks with alcoholic parents.

Danielle outgrew the bassinette quickly, and we placed her crib in the bedroom, where Sean and I slept. As Danielle got older, I knew other arrangements would have to be made, but this sleeping arrangement was working out for those early months. There were no other bedrooms on the first floor of the house, and I wanted to be near her if she needed me during the night.

One evening, Sean came home two hours late from work, and it was clear that he had been drinking heavily. He was belligerent, didn’t even want to eat dinner, and decided to go directly to bed. I didn’t stop him then, but later, as I entered the bedroom to get Danielle ready for her bath, I was overwhelmed by the strong smell of alcohol that filled the room. Sean repulsed me when I looked at him. I kept thinking, What kind of man comes home in this condition to his wife and two children? It would be useless to have a sensible discussion with him in his condition, so I didn’t try. I really wanted to ask him to leave the house. Instead, I awakened Sean to tell him, “You really need to go upstairs to sleep in one of the other bedrooms, please, because I need to put the baby to bed, and this room reeks of alcohol.”

He became enraged when I told him that. He got out of bed, glared at me, and told me, “Take that baby and you go upstairs with her. This is my bedroom and my house, and I’ll sleep wherever I want. I was livid but didn’t want to provoke him. I simply refused to go upstairs, explaining, “There’s no crib upstairs, so you need to sleep elsewhere.”

“Take the baby and leave my house.”

“I’m not leaving, and you need to get out of this room and let the baby go to sleep.” I thought he was just being ridiculous, that it was the alcohol talking.

At my refusal, Sean became angrier, and his temper got the better of him. While he didn’t strike anyone, he dressed in a hurry and said he was leaving.

He turned to Brian and told him, “You pack your things because I want you out of my house and back to your mother’s home right now.” He was horrible. I told him to leave Brian alone.

Once again, Sean glared at me and told me in a loud voice, “You have one day to get you and that brat out of the house.” He then proceeded to leave with Brian.