This is just a vent of mine.  I needed to get it out for my own sanity. I am feeling horrible.  I feel like I am hurting so deep.  Like I just want to cry, scream, yell, and disappear all at once.  I want this heartache to go away.  I feel like I just need a good, deep, let-it-all-out cry.  But I can't cry.  I don't know why.  I feel like I want to, but it just isn't happening.  I feel more anger than sadness.  I want to throw glass at the wall, just to hear it shatter.  I want to take a knife to his precious leather recliner.  I want to throw his laptop into the street and run it over repeatedly with my car.  I want burn every picture of him, and spit on the ashes- actually, my stomach is upset, so I would probably throw up on them.  I want to take a knife and gouge out his eyes in every picture of us together.  Maybe then, I would feel better.  I can't do those things, of course.  I have so much anger and pain built up inside of me.  His addiction has ruined my self-esteem.  I no longer feel pretty or sexy.  I feel ugly and fat.  His words have cut me so deep.  They replay in my mind like a broken record- over and over and over and over...  Those hurtful, mean, and cruel things he has said are etched into my memory- Whore, slut, retard, bitch, nasty, stupid, ignorant, waste of human life, worthless, fucking cunt...  So many words, all said to me weekly for the past 5½ years.  They have become how he thinks about me.  He said I don't turn him on, I am a bad mother, I am worthless, I don't deserve anything...  The list goes on and on.  For years, I have heard these things.  Loving and kind words rarely come out of his mouth.  The only things even remotely nice that he says to me are said when he wants sex.  He only talks about the way that at look at those times.  There's never an interest in who I am, what I want in my life, or what makes me happy, and he has never asked about how my day was or how I am feeling.  So many times, I would be sick, and he would YELL at me for complaining that I didn't feel good, still expecting me to cook his dinner, serve him his food, get up and pour him some more soda, take care of Jonathan, and do everything I would normally do.  When I was in labor with Jonathan, he left me on the couch in pain, and he went into the bedroom and closed the door and went to sleep.  I couldn't get up because it hurt so bad (and any woman who has had a baby knows how bad labor pain is).  When I finally was able to get up, I had to puke- the pain was so bad and the hormones from labor made me sick to my stomach.  He didn't care.  Instead, he yelled at me to be quiet so he could get some sleep.  Finally, he took me to the hospital, but he passed the hospital to stop by his college and talk to his teacher.  He left me out in the car while I was in labor.  He took the keys, and this was the beginning of March, and it was snowing.  I waited for about 20 minutes out there in the cold, 39 weeks pregnant, with contractions every 3 minutes.  Then, after Jonathan was born, he never brought me flowers or anything.  He didn't take pictures, so I don't have any pictures of me holding my newborn son when he was born.  He really didn't seem to care how I felt at all.   When we came home from the hospital a week later (I had a c-section, and a second surgery 16 hours later because I was bleeding internally), he carried Jonathan inside, and put him in the bassinette next to our bed, and I needed to rest, so I got into bed.  He went outside to the garage.  Jonathan started crying, and I couldn't move.  I couldn't sit up because of the pain.  I had a 6 inch incision on my abdomen and couldn't sit up, roll over, or stand without someone pulling me up.  I yelled for him to come and help me because the baby was crying, and he was no where to be found.  He was gone for about 30 minutes.  (Actually, he CLAIMS to have been in the garage, but I remember clearly never hearing the back door open or close- instead, I heard him go down into the basement bathroom where he stashed his porno magazines- but he will insist he was 'working on his car').That's just one example of how selfish he is.  He has never cared for my feelings at all.  EVER.  I have always been last on his list of priorities.  He humiliates me in public by yelling and screaming at me, calling me horrible names and people always stare.  He has beaten me while I'm driving on the highway at 65 mph with our son in the car.  He has punched me in my head so hard that he dislocated my jaw (he doesn't know that I went to the doctor for it while he was at work).  He has kicked me repeatedly all over my body as I was in a ball on the floor.  He has pulled me down on the steps as I was running upstairs, grabbing my ponytail and bashing my head repeatedly into the steps (they have carpet on them) hard enough to knock me out and make me urinate on myself.  He always says I come after him first, and sometimes I am so angry that I threaten to throw something at him- but so many times all I did was yell and he beat me.  One time, when we lived in Florida back in 2005, we were in the car and something pissed him off- something I did or said.  I was driving, and he upset me, so I pulled into a parking lot and threw the car into park.  I didn't know that it could hurt the transmission by doing that.  He got even more angry at me and told me he was going to drive (which was fine with me because I was crying too hard to drive).  After he got back onto the road, he began punching me in my arm as hard as he could, repeatedly for over half an hour.  He kept driving all around Palm Bay and Melbourne, punching me as hard as he could.  My arm was black and blue, and where he punched me (it was in the same spot every time) there was a huge lump and it was REALLY hard.  I begged for him to let me out of the car or to take me home, but he wouldn't.  I couldn't get out of the car, and he refused to let me go.  He kept saying I had to calm down first, but all the while, he was still punching me as he was driving.  He was using the side of his right hand.  He kept screaming, "YOU FUCKING RETARDED BITCH!  YOU WANT TO RUIN OUR BRAND NEW CAR???  IS THAT WHAT YOU ARE TRYING TO DO???  YOU STUPID FUCKING RETARDED WHORE!!!"  The whole time I was crying, saying I'm sorry for doing that and telling him that I didn't mean to do it and that I didn't know it could damage the car.  I was begging him to stop hitting me.  I was begging for him to let me go home.  At one point, we were driving past a Brevard County Sheriff, and I began banging on the window of our car, crying and screaming for him to help me, but he didn't notice me, and this made Rob even more angry.  He punched me in my head and yelled at me.  "DO YOU WANT THEM TO PUT ME IN JAIL??  IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT YOU FUCKING CUNT???!!!"When I was about 7 months pregnant, I made him mad (everything I do makes him mad).  I was going into our bedroom, and he was behind me.  He grabbed me by my shirt collar and pulled me backwards onto our hardwood floor.  When he did that, the bottons on my shirt came off, and he left me there on the floor.  Around that same time, mayb e a month earlier, he put his hands around my throat and bent me backwards onto the kitchen counter- I was about 6 or 7 months pregnant.  On another one of his rages, he put his arm across my throat from behind me and he began choking me.  He had me there for what seemed like an eternity.  He was squeezing harder and harder.  I knew what was going on, but I couldn't stop him.  I felt dizzy and my body went limp.  I couldn't breathe and I thought that this was it.  I thought I was going to be dead any minute.  When I went limp, he let go and I fell to the floor.  I believe he was trying to kill me, and maybe thought I was already dead?  The one time I got up the nerve to call the police, he ran off with Jonathan.  Stupid me.  He called a little while later and I went to meet up with him in a parking lot.  He wouldn't come home because the police were looking for him.  A week later, we moved to Cleveland so he wouldn't be arrested (we were living in Illinois, this was March 2004).I now have cronic headaches since he last punched me repeatedly in the side of my head.  I tell him that they are from my sinuses, and have been taking 4 Advil at a time to make it stop hurting, but that doesn't work- it just takes the edge off.I am going to call the doctor in a few mintues, I need to see him about these headaches and talk to him about all that's been going on.I am not going to worry about filing for divorce just yet.  I just need to get away first.  My mom told me to just hang in there until they get settled in their new house first, then I can move in with them. There are so many times that he has hurt me physically and mentally.  Too many to write down in my journal.He has never apologized, and even if he did, he would NOT be forgiven.