I met (not so D)P nearly 3 years ago when I was a single mum to my now 5 year old DS. We were so intense about each other, I thought I'd found 'the one' and he said he felt the same. I stupidly got pregnant within 3 months of meeting and we decided to move in together. Then the cracks started appearing - he would go out and get absolutely shitfaced and come home and yell at me. I threatened to leave then and he broke down and promised he would change.
Since then we've had our ups and downs (and a beautiful 20 month old daughter) but his behaviour has got steadily worse over the last year. He has a serious drink problem and struggles to go a day without a beer. He's either hungover or suffering withdrawal and has an incredibly short fuse. He snaps at me constantly and on one occasion shook me hard, on another picked up a dining chair and threatened me with it. I felt it was only a matter of time before he hit me. He suffers badly from depression but has always refused to seek help. He also contributes virtually nothing to the house (runs his own business and spends any money he earns on drink, maybe chucking £100 or so my way every now and again) - a year ago I had to get a full time job just to keep a roof over our heads.
On Monday we had another row and when he threatened to leave, instead of begging him to stay as I have in the past, I just told him to go. He went out for a few hours, and came back sheepishly, promised he would change and that he wanted to keep our family together. I said he would have to make a doctor's appointment to deal with the depression, anger and drink issues, and that he would have to make an effort to be at least civil to me.
Well, it's now Thursday and that hasn't happened. This morning he snapped at me three times before we left the house. I take DD to nursery and he takes DS to school. He stormed out with DS and then I heard this almighty yelling and f'ing and blinding from across the street. DS had committed the cardinal sin of forgetting his lunchbox. On my way to nursery/work all I could see in my head was his little face looking absolutely terrified and that was the final straw - I can take a certain amount of abuse myself but I will not allow my son to suffer like that.
So I've phoned him and told him I want him out by the weekend. He was eerily calm about it, and only said two things: 'when we tell the story of what happened, our versions will be so different' (like I give a shit - he can call me twenty types of bitch if it makes him feel better, my friends know what really went on) and 'don't accuse me of abuse, you don't know what that word means'...which kind of shows how far his self-delusion has gone.
Not sure why I'm posting all this really - guess I need to be reassured I'm doing the right thing. I'm not worried about how we'll cope practically - the house is in my name, and in many ways I'll be better off financially without him (more tax credits, council tax discount, not constantly subbing him £50 to go down the pub)...more worried about how to explain to DS and what to say to DD when she's old enough to understand.
Tonight we're talking about practicalities and I need to be strong enough not to give him yet another chance after he's blown all the others. I have a great support network and have friends lined up to come round and keep me company over the next week or so. In some ways I'm relieved that I've finally made the decision - but I'm also in mourning for the man I loved, and have to keep telling myself that that wasn't the real him, that man never really existed.
Anyway, if you've read this far, thanks...feels better just to get it all out...