For many years I have lived in fear. The fear that my life or even worse my daughter’s life would be taken from me. And the person who loved and cared for us so much would be the one to take it. The fights would happen when ever Jason would be drunk, have a bad day or if he didn’t get what he wanted. Jason had to have control and if he didn’t I would pay the price. For many years I had tried to help him, but I finally realized you can’t help someone who doesn’t want the help. Jason would never take responsibility for his actions, he would always blame his fits of rage on me pushing his buttons. I will probably never understand how someone can say they love you one minute and beat you the next. Or how someone can make a person feel so belittled.
I will never forget the night Jason pushed me on my bed, put his hands around my neck and chocked me. I had tried fighting him off of me, but I couldn’t breathe. I looked up into his eyes and saw black. There was no color to his eyes, they were pitch black. I knew this wasn’t Jason. I laid there prying he would let go. And when he did I remember trying to gasp for air and him saying, “Quit faking, I didn’t hurt you.” I begged him to leave, but he wouldn’t he followed me from room to room, inches away from me because he thought I was going to call the police. All the while my daughter was in the next room sleeping.
Jason has a very bad temper. And if Jason doesn’t get what Jason wants he takes it out on me or my daughter. If Jason wasn’t happy, no one was happy.
I still love and care for Jason and I probably always will, but I do not like him. He has taken my daughter’s childhood away from her. A child should never have to witness their mother be assaulted, especially by their father. Jason had me pinned up against my apartment door while my daughter was sitting on the couch. Jason yelled at her, “Do you want me to fucking hit your mom, huh, do you?!” I can remember looking at Jasmyne and seeing her eyes so big and filled with fear. She never said a word. Jason finally pushed me aside, opened the door to leave and as I was shutting the door behind him to lock it he pushed the door open and kicked me in the right knee and then took off running. As I fell to the floor crying Jasmyne came over to me and hugged me and told me, “it’s of mommy.” No child should ever have to be put through that.
It took me a long time to finally be able to leave Jason. I knew when I left him I would have to be ready for the harassment and whatever else he would throw my way. I knew he would try and make me drop out of college, vandalize my vehicles and harass me. But over the years the more he abused me, verbally and physically, I grew stronger. I graduated from college, dealt with the slashing of the car tires and sugar in the gas tank, and ignored the harassing phone calls. I picked myself up and showed my daughter that her mother was strong person and we moved to get away from all of this.
Jason has a problem and needs help for it. I had called his mother several times in hopes she would help. But his mother didn’t think Jason had a problem. I also offered to go to counseling with Jason, but Jason either denied the problems or blamed everyone else, and soon Jason just quit going. I had contacted the police several times after being assaulted, but Jason either hid at his parent’s house for 12 hours so he couldn’t be arrested or snitched on someone to get out of trouble. I really feel that the system has failed both Jasmyne and myself.
I can not forgive someone who doesn’t want forgiveness and as for forgetting, I don’t think I could. All I ask for is that wherever Jason should go I hope they show him the same courtesy as he has shown upon Jasmyne and myself.