Sorry about the delay, I had some things come up and was unable to make it back to the computer yesterday.

So I had my first son, everything went well for the first 2 years or so. My husband and I began to get more and more involved in the church, He played drums

on the band or worship team every other service and I was involved in the nursery watching after the young children. In 2003 little by little my husband

kept saying how he wanted to branch out and play with bands besides the church. Although he liked playing at church, they didn't play the kind of music he

loved. So he tried a few different bands finally settling with this one made up of a father and his two sons, the sons in their early 20s and dad being in

his 50's. They played mostly grad parties and things like that, no bars or clubs.

A gig came up that had Steve playing 2 hours away from home, but the pay made it worth it. So he went with the agreement there would be no drinking of any

kind, this way he could come back home and we would make it to the church for him to play in the morning. I expected him home around 2 AM. I can remember

the whole thing as if it just happened. I remember watching the show E.R. on DVD that night waiting up for him to return home/. At 3:45AM I finally went to

bed. I had tried calling everyone I knew who was at the event and no one was answering. I got into bed and it seemed like as soon as I fell asleep the phone

rang. I answered it and it was Steve. He said "Hey, umm." I already knew he wasn't hurt, because if he was hurt it wouldn't be him calling me. So this had

to mean he was drunk! so I yelled "you're drunk aren't you?" I didn't wait for a reply, I just hung up the phone I rolled over and went back to sleep.

When I got up with my son at 7AM I remember him getting on the couch looking out the window crying for daddy. As I was getting him his breakfast my mom

called me she told me that Steve had called her and they were going to bail him out! She said that he had a beer at the event and got about a mile from the

house when he fell asleep and the car went off the road, a cop came and picked him up because he smelled of beer.

I later found out that what really happened was he got totally messed up as soon as he got to the event, couldn't even play because he was so messed up so

he headed home. He did get about one mile from home and did drive off the road. A cop came along and picked him up walking to the house, so his charges were

leaving the scene, possession! and a DWI!

I just remember sitting there with my son, him crying for daddy over and over until sometime around 1PM. My parents sat down with Steve and I, they prayed

for us, they tried to offer direction to us. They left, my son cried that he wanted to go buh bye. I didn't have my license (Steve always made the excuse

that we didn't have the money for the test) and Steve had just lost his! Things were not great, but they could still get worse and believe me ... they did!

Steve got very lucky and when he went before the judge the first time the judge was cool and gave him a conditional license, this allowed him to keep his

job. Also allowed me to get the baby to the doctors and do our shopping ect. This happened in June of 2003.

In Aug of 2003 Steve went to a bar to see off a co-worker who was heading in the army. He told me that they were going out to a place with no bar to grab a

bite to eat. I didn't see a problem with it. So sometime around 3AM he called. I was awake and waiting for him to come home. I answered the phone and he

said "hey, its me" I asked what town court he was in he responded "its not what you think, I tried to miss a deer and took the ditch so a cop gave me a

ride, I need to be picked up" I was happy that it wasn't as bad as last time and agreed to make phone calls for him. Turns out it was worse than the last

time. This time he was being charged with DWI, driving outside his conditional, leaving the scene. His lawyer did his best to drag everything out as long as

he could which allowed Steve to keep his job for a while longer, but by time winter came he was out of work, we had lost our car (bank took it) he had lost

his license for 6 months, he had to complete an evaluation in order to get it back and they were expensive ($190-$500) the one he had done recommended that

he go to a rehab. He was not willing to admit to his drinking being a problem.

We had no income so we went to the department of social services and started getting public assistance and food stamps. They gave us $250 a month for food

stamps and $400 a month for our bills! I was forced to work 30 hours a week at a church to "earn" this help. Steve got out of doing the working part because

he had a drinking problem.

After about 2 weeks of working for this church I landed a job at a hotel doing housekeeping. It wasn't much but still added up to be more money all around

than the assistance we were getting. Steve didn't like me working and this was motivation enough for him to get a job, hence making it hard for me to get to

mine therefore I had to quit.

His jobs came and went, most of the time he would be fired for being late or not showing up. He started working for this bottle and can return, he loved it

there it was a 9 to 5 job, he was able to smoke and drink on the job! I hated every second of it! He would get home about 5:30 PM and he would start

screaming and yelling straight through till 2 or 3 AM sometimes! The whole time he would claim he didn't drink anything.

One time I remember really well was the night before thanksgiving, I had made him a nice thanksgiving dinner but the pie I made got ruined when I opened an

upper cabinet and the salt fell out from it onto the pie, the spout was open. Steve came home, excited that I had made him such a big dinner, then he went

to put salt on his food and found that the salt was dumped he started a rant! He went on for at least an hour about how he looked forward to salt on his

food, then another hour about the pie, then how I was a horrible mom, eventually started about how he was picked on in high school! A half hour into this

part he started throwing things! He began blaming me for his high school torture! Soon started telling me that as soon as I slept he was going to take my

son and I would never see him again!

Sometime around 2AM he sat down and passed out, I called my parents and asked them to come get me, when I told them that Steve was sleeping they said to go

into the baby's room and stay by him, they would come get me first thing in the morning. So I grabbed a blanket and a pillow, I went into my sons room and

curled up on the floor against the door with the phone in my hand. The next day as promised at 7 AM my parents came and got me and the baby, we went to my

grandmother's house as we always did for thanksgiving. I cried the whole day. When I got home around 8PM that night he was crying at my feet making promise

after promise that it would never happen again.

I am going to make a guess and say that less than a month later Steve was drunk again I had come up with a plan, I would sleep through his rants! This

prevented the fights and often made him pass out faster. I was in bed sleeping I don't even know what time it was when I woke up. I woke up because I

couldn't breathe! I was choking... something was on top of me and I was chocking. My first thought was "I'm gonna die! Who will take care of my baby?!" the

second thought was "quit being a wimp and fight this!" So I started moving my hands and arms around and realized then exactly what was going on. My husband

was raping me and in the midst of it all was choking me! I couldn't believe this is what was happening, I thought for sure it must be a dream. As I began to

struggle against him I could hear his laughing! I began to lose function, it was becoming harder and harder to fight back. I relaxed my whole body took a

deep breath in and with every ounce of strength I had in me I pushed against him. I don't know if I shocked him or if I really over powered him but he

jumped up off me. He stood beside the bed as I crawled off the end he yelled to me as I ran past him out the bedroom door. He yelled one more time "Im

sorry, I was sleeping!" I went into my sons room and I laid awake pressed up against the door and cried as silently as I could making sure I didn't wake my

son.

I never really trusted him again, I NEVER forgave him for what he did, I slept in my son's room for many months to come. Every night around 12 - 1 AM I

would sneak in his room and sleep on his floor. This went on for months!

I have to stop here for now, I will pick up again tomorrow as soon as I can! To be continued....