Getting a little personal........

The following post is a true story. The 100%, complete, unadulterated, true facts...I did not make anything up and I did not include any names to protect their privacy. 

Judgement Day

I had often thought about killing him, daily perhaps, but never before had a more perfect opportunity presented itself.

Ladies and gentleman my name is Barbara Ann. I am 37 years old and happily married to a wonderful husband whom I love, cherish, and adore. I spend my days lovingly washing, baking, cleaning, and generally running the house because I love him completely. I love and cherish my two sons with every fiber that is my being. I live for the men in my life and would never change it.

I wasn't always this happy. Wasn't always as content as I am now for you see, I have lived two lives.

This story I am about to tell you I have only shared with a select few in my life. My husband is one and my best girlfriend is another. I am telling you now because I feel compelled to own my wrong doings. To take responsibility for the impure, unclean, and immoral things I have kept hidden for so long. It’s time to cleanse the soul. So stick around.

When I was the grand old age of 17 I got married to a wonderful man, a White Knight in the truest sense of the title. He loved and respected me for the entire month of our marriage, until he found me in bed with another man. Shame weighed down on me so heavy that I just knew I couldn't go back. I couldn't curl up in the arms of my loving husband; I couldn't seek shelter in the comforting folds of my childhood home. Home to my Mommy and Daddy so they could make it all better. I had no home to go to, and it was my own damn fault.

I slept on the couch of a high school friend of mine and her boyfriend until eventually I hooked up with their roommate. My first husband and I were soon divorced and I tried moved forward, taking all my shame with me. It was months before I could look my parents in the eyes again. The new boyfriend and I started looking for an apartment of our own to start our lives together. I was starting over and for awhile it seemed like it might work.

It became apparent however, that my new White Knight had a severe case of sticky fingers. After this condition had landed him in jail a few times I started looking for a new White Knight to save me. It never occurred to me that I was my own White Knight. I was too young and stupid to know that.

I didn't look far to find White Knight #3 as he was living in the apartment next door. He had two beautiful daughters he seemed to be raising alone. He had a good job as a carpenter and even owned his own vehicle! That was a big step up from #2 already and I was convinced.

I moved in with him after only knowing him for a few weeks totally trusting the father figure persona. Dads are by nature good people right? My Dad is anyway. 

Everything was picture perfect for awhile. He bought me flowers and candy for no reason. We went shopping for new clothes and he would then take me out to extravagant dinners to show off his beautiful wife. Yes folks I had already jumped in hook, line, and ring finger and it took only a few months to go horribly wrong.

It started first with angry words if I spoke wrong or out of turn. This soon escalated to an arm grab to really bring home the point of ‘be seen and not heard’. Next came the name calling. I was a bitch, I was ugly, no one else would ever love me so I might as well sit my fat ass down and shut the fuck up or he was going to shut me up. A few times he did. I got one my first tattoos because I needed to prove my love. Having his name permanently on my body should do the trick. Mark what’s his. Let the world know just who I belonged to.

He was diabetic and it was my responsibility to control his blood sugar.  If I gave him too little insulin and he ended up with high blood sugars. This came with fatigue and, by design, sorry moods. If I gave him too much and he went into a hyperglycemia, I was in for a real ‘lesson’.

One night I wasn't paying attention to where he was walking and he fell into a gopher hole. His fragile ankle broke and we spent the night in the emergency room. My punishment for this was I was expected to be his wet nurse 24/7. I was told to quit my job so I could stay home and take care of him. I was probably sleeping with half the kitchen staff anyway. I had made the mistake of telling him of my indiscretion with my White Knight #1 and now I was sleeping with everyone from the mailman to my own brother. I quit my job gracefully citing family medical issues so maybe I could come back when the ankle was healed. I never did.

We moved out of my home town under the dark of night running from a list of unpaid rent and past due bills. We holed up in a tiny 2 bedroom trailer where the drugs started to come in. We were back on his home stomping ground where old ‘friends’ started crawling out of the woodwork. I soon discovered the dieting benefits of crystal methamphetamine and mistakenly convinced myself that if I were skinny I would also be beautiful and he would not hit me. Sleep became a dream and food just a memory. I dropped 40 lbs in 30 days and still he hit me.

Running from law enforcement now, we moved to another state. We wrote bad checks for things we could return for cash so we could buy more meth. He convinced me it wasn't enough for extradition so we would be fine. We found jobs together in a packing house so he could keep an eye on me. Either I couldn't function unsupervised or I would fall into the arms of the nearest person with an appendage. For awhile things went OK, so I stayed.

After the brief attempt at normalcy, law enforcement caught up with us and we were indeed extradited back home to do our time. After almost a year of county jail time I was released into the general population of the world. Still holding all my shame and guilt I tried to make a new life. Prepare a place for him when he was released, and to prepare a place for his daughters whom have been living with his mom since we had gotten arrested. I got a job, got a house, and got his daughters back. The three of us girls were doing alright.

He was released from prison and came down like freight train upon our delicately balanced house of cards, the house I had worked so hard to build. I could almost see the pieces fall, could almost here them shatter on the ground, along with whatever self esteem I had built for myself.  I was back to square one, back under the thumb of my master. Cowed, I still stayed.

I had fantasized about his death often. I had it all planned it in my mind. I had convinced myself that it was for the best. He wouldn't be hurting me or these sweet, innocent, beautiful girls anymore. He wouldn't continue to break his Mothers heart, and he wouldn't continue to be a drain on society. Could I do it though? Yes, I think I could. Every beating cemented in my heart that YES! I could take the life of this human YES! I would play God and decide who lived and who died. I was the Judge, Jury and Executioner. It was up to me. I felt so empowered! So I waited until the time was perfect.

Then it happened. 

The opportunity was served to me as if from a silver platter.

One night I felt him lurching in bed. This, I knew, was one of his symptoms of very low blood sugar. Probably from all the exertion of unsuccessfully forcing himself on me the night before. I made my way to the kitchen to get the rescue injection we kept for just this purpose. I was standing over him getting ready to prime the device when it hit me. I held his life in my hands.....all I had to do was walk away....close the door behind me and let his own stupidity do the job. 

I turned around and took a step for the door. It was all so perfect! I could even hear me telling the Police Officer “I fell asleep on the couch during a movie. I didn't know he was in trouble. We had made love and I wasn't tired so I went to watch a movie.” Then I could go into a guilt ridden wailing on how by insisting he make love to me, somehow I killed him. I would have the house, the kids, the cars, the life insurance and no one would be the wiser.

I took another step toward the door.......I put the device back in its pouch........I took another step to the door. It would be so easy….......

Then I stopped….......

Could I look into those beautiful faces and lie to them every day? Could I look into the mirror and lie to myself every day? I had fantasized about killing another human being. I had planned to kill another human being. I was, even now, contemplating the killing of another human being.

What kind of person had I become?

I slowly turned around and looked at the now motionless figure on the bed. I felt cold all over. The hatred I felt so strongly for this man only a moment ago had slowly oozed from my pores and flowed onto the floor like sap. Where the hatred once consumed me, now I felt only pity. I pitied him with all his false bravado. Pitied his reliance on the government and pitied his stupidity. Most of all I pitied his ignorance. He would never change. Tears fell from my eyes as I wondered how I could have let myself be brought to this point. I had let my heart become so tainted with my hatred for him, that it had somehow turned my entire soul into a dead, black mass. I felt so ugly. I felt so dirty. I felt the shame I had felt all those years ago and as the tears poured down my cheeks, I knew exactly what I could and could't do.

 I injected him with that life saving fluid, put the spent device on his bedside table and went to pack.

His final judgment was not up to me.  

I left my shame in that pool of hatred and finally went home to my family. I had punished myself enough. 

Everyone needs to purge once in a while. 

Thank you for not judging.....

Barbara Ann