Aunt Becky
Tires squealing, we merged out onto Lake Shore Drive seemingly oblivious of the Saturday afternoon traffic, patches of burnt rubber left in our wake. I gripped the Oh Jesus! bar over the door, my knuckles white, while I tried to breathe through my panic. I couldn’t let the four-year old strapped into the car seat in the back see my abject fear.
Nervously, I glanced at the driver, Matt, my ex from many years before and the father of my child. We’d been broken up for ages, but my upcoming wedding had him nearly off his rocker. Foolishly, I’d agreed to celebrate our son’s birthday together with a trip to the museum, and now we were stuck in his two-ton death trap barreling 80 miles an hour down the highway. Out of his mouth streamed a steady diatribe that had flowed unrelenting since he’d picked us up from our condo that morning. I was a selfish fucking bitch, I was ruining his life with my marriage, I was ruining my son Ben’s life, we belonged together, to raise our son together.
He seemed to forget the lies, his affairs, the fact that underneath his denial was the absolute truth that he hated me with a fiery passion.
“You’re such a fucking bitch,” he sneered through his teeth, punching the steering wheel and dashboard to drive the last two words home. “How could you do this to me? To US?” He gestured to the now-sleeping child; oblivious to the danger we were in. Quickly, he jerked the wheel right, pulling us into the right lane, as horns blared and brakes squealed. I sat quietly, knowing that this moment was not the time to correct him, not the time to fight. Now I needed to play my cards right in order to survive. To save Ben and I.
The tears began to spew from his eyes, hateful bitter tears, as he insulted my character. “You’re such a fucking whore,” he spat. “I’m so much better than you. You don’t deserve me. You’re a failure. You’re turning into your crazy mother. You’re mentally ill.” The insults were hurled viciously at me, occasionally punctuated by a punch to the left side of my body. The adrenaline coursing through my veins prevented me from even feeling them. I’ve never been so numb.
His car merged onto the highway and he changed lanes with frightening speed. I watched in horror as we crept from 90 to 100 miles per hour past other cars, narrowly missing their bumpers. I could taste the metallic taste of fear in my mouth as I tried not to vomit. Vomit would enrage him further. I saw a few sparks of metal gnashing upon metal, but just like that, we’d moved past. The exit that would take us back home loomed ahead of us, and I sat there, quiet, trying to placate him and telling myself to take deep, slow breaths.
Rather than merge onto my exit, he instead got into the left lane, narrowly missing a motorcyclist. His eyes narrowed.
Tentatively I asked him if he were going to take us home. “No,” was his reply. “I’m not.”
I considered calling the police but the hatred of all authority that Matt possessed made me acutely aware that this wouldn’t end well. I saw a massive car crash and decided to do nothing. I sat there, sweating profusely despite the air conditioning, the smell of fear and panic radiating off me like ugly cologne.
Onward and onward we drove, his driving and mood fluctuating dramatically between offering me diamonds and riches to just come back to him and telling me that he was going to take me to court and use my past depression as evidence of being an unfit mother. That he should just kill me now and be done with it, I wasn’t going to amount to anything.
Minutes turned into hours and I prayed that my fiance wouldn’t try and call me, knowing this would further enrage Matt and escalate the situation. I focused on survival, counting my breaths, and watching the clock tick by. I was powerless. Just as he wanted me to be.
Ben, thanks be to the Powers That Be, slept on obliviously in the backseat, where I nervously watched him out of the corner of my eye. He could sleep through anything, apparently, even a kidnapping. Poor kid, I thought, he didn’t need to see this, this had nothing to do with him. I was suddenly overtaken by a wave of sadness that things had gotten so bad. He hadn’t asked to be born into what quickly turned into a volatile situation. He didn’t need to know how cruel his father could be. He never needed to see his father debase his mother.
Just as I was contemplating what the hell to do when he finally had to stop for gas (getting out of the car was key, but having Ben strapped into his car seat made things logistically trickier), he quickly yanked the wheel right and exited the highway. He turned his car in the direction of my house, crying and cursing me all in the same breath, still intermittently punching me when the anger overtook him. I was numb. A doll. A waxy numb doll.
I don’t remember much of what happened after that.
Hours later, he inexplicably dropped Ben and I off at home. I quickly popped my son out of his car seat and out of the car before he could take away him from me. Without so much as another “I hate you,” he peeled off, leaving us in a cloud of burnt rubber, bruised and battered. But not broken. Never broken.
Never.
***
Becky blogs at Mommy Wants Vodka.
100 Responses to “Aunt Becky”
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[...] It’s time for me to share my story. [...]
i love you. i’m proud of you. i’m weeping for you and for ben.
*sigh*
Thank you for sharing. I wish you didn’t have anything to share.
You stayed so strong for your son. I am so sorry – that must have been bone-crushingly terrifying.
And I am thankful, so thankful, that this story didn’t end differently.
Oh, B.
My heart is racing.
What a FUCKING ASSHOLE.
UGH.
What a terrifying experience. I had a similar car ride — without a child, and my boyfriend, the driver, was piss drunk. I had forgotten all about it until now.
I am so grateful that you and Ben got home safely.
Fucking horrifying. You are strong as hell. I cant imagine having the strength to deal with him now, after he did something like that.
I’m so glad you made it home safely
You did exactly what needed to be done and bless you for that. Oh, Becky. I’m so sorry you had to experience that and especially with your child in the car.
Bastard.
Thank you for sharing your tale.
Thank you so much for sharing this. As skillfully as you’ve told this, I still can’t imagine how terrifying it must have been to actually live through it. You’re a tough cookie.
Thank you so much for sharing. I’m so glad you had the strength to make it through that.
I’m so sorry for what you went through. It constantly amazes and inspires me to see survivors who have lived through such terrifying abuse and come out the other side so strong.
I’m about as pacifistic as they come, but reading this makes me really long for an eye-for-an-eye kind justice for people like your ex.
Well. Again. I’m all covered in chills. Thank GOD it ended with you and Ben safe – and I really really am proud of you. For staying strong, for using MATT’s NAME! (I hope that’s his real name), and for sharing your story.
I am sorry you even have this story to share, but thank you for sharing.
I admire you’re strength.
I have a crazy ex named Matt too, but he came after me with a gun while I was pregnant. When he was free, all I felt was that terror, knowing you have to protect your child, having a contingency plan ready every second in case he comes around… worst feeling ever. And the thought of handing a child over to a psychopath… visitation is supervised by a social worker in a secure place, and I still stay terrified for the hour a week it lasts.
I stay away from Matts now.
Thank you for sharing. I’m glad you escaped. Your son is fortunate you successfully broke free from your ex. I pray his exposure to that poison is minimal.
I’m always astonished at the stories I read here. But seldom do I feel my own knuckles whitening out of fear. Anger, yes, contempt, certainly. But I found myself holding my breath and not able to read fast enough to make this… be over. And this sitting at a desk that’s not moving. Not in the passenger side of a barely guided missile hurtling at triple digit speed down the interstate.
I don’t know how you managed to think through the terror. I’m not even sure how you’re able to remember the details. I do know you did everything, everything right under the circumstances. I kept hoping a cop would pull him over at some point in the story, but I’m not sure that wouldn’t have been the worst possible scenario. He might have decided to take all of you out in a blaze of “glory”.
And he calls you the crazy one.
Thank you for surviving, for bringing this story to the others who will read it. Who need to know that there’s life on the other side, if you can just get to it. Who need a reason to get to it. who need to know that bruised isn’t the same as broken.
Never broken.
WOW! I had NO idea! You’ve said before that your ex is a jerk and you two weren’t “meant to be”, but I never knew it was for this reason.
How awful to go through that with Ben in the backseat the whole time! That’s so scary. I can only imagine the terror you felt. I hope that in writing your story, you are able to “crush” all those past memories.
*HUGS*
Oh Gawd.
I am so grateful for a somewhat *happy* end. I was truly expecting a different ending. Thank you for sharing this Becky.
My heart is still pounding.
God, how terrifying! I’m glad you made it out unbroken.
You have a very powerful and wonderful guardian angle watching over you and your son. He will always be with you and make you safe. Your strength will guide your son to be the right kind of man when he too his grown. Take care.
Just…thank you for sharing.
I send you infinite peace.
I’m actually having trouble breathing, this story literally took my breath away. What a terribly frightening experience. I am so very glad you are okay. Thank you for having the guts to share your story, it means so much.
You are very brave to share and I hope you never have to go through something like that ever again.
Becky,
So sorry you had to experience that sheer terror & at the same time I am amazed. No doubt you kept your composure for yours & Ben’s safety – don’t know how you did it but understand with my entire heart.
I read, and then I went away, hoping that taking some time before commenting would allow the need for vengeance to subside. Unfortunately, it has not, and rather than say anything more detailed on site with a name such as this, I’ll leave it at that.
My youngest daughter’s father tried to kill us all when I was pregnant with her. He was driving my car, and we were fighting about something dumb as usual. He literally missed barreling us into a semi that night. And since then, he has tried to run us off the road. I feel your pain.
wow. that story was pretty intense to read! i’m so glad you ended up being safe and thankful that your son was sleeping…the last thing he needs is to have that terrible memory burned into his young mind (hug)
Oh, honey, I wish this was a part of your life that you never, ever had to share, but how amazing you are, and how strong you are. You are everything plus more than what your ex ever called you during this experience. So glad you are safe and that your heart is so strong as to share this.
Wow. So, so powerful. Wow.
This was terrifying, Becks. Thank God Ben slept through it all.
Oh my God, Becks.
I knew there was something very off about that man, but I didn’t realize just how bad he was.
Thank God you and Ben are OK, though my heart breaks for you that you had to endure a crazed kidnapping in a speeding car. I’m holding you in my heart, my friend.
So very brave, you’re just so very brave.
oh, aunt becky. scary. so glad you and Ben now have the Daver.
I am sorry you had to go through this. You are a VERY strong women and I love ya.
I was waiting for the crash … but SO relieved it never came! So glad that you and your son are alright.
I hope that this is all of the insanity that your son never has to see. But, especially if he is still around your child, it’s important that when he’s old enough to understand, your son has at least some idea of who his father really is. (Mine was such a charmer that if I had not personally seen or been the victim of his abuse, I would have thought my mother made it up.)
I hope that you have found peace and happiness. Thank you for sharing your story.
You are so very brave. Thank you for sharing this horrifying story – I think I stopped breathing for a few seconds there.
I an only hope that it helps some other poor woman to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
OMG! I could’ve have been reading about me. I didn’t know. It is an awful thing to go through but it does have some positive results. It is a part of who you are. It’s part of your amazing sense of humor. It puts a whole new spin on how you appreciate your days, your life and how it could all have been taken away so quickly.
You rock Becky!!
I have no words; just tears and heartfelt hugs.
I am so glad that you and ben got out of the car without an accident at those speeds. It takes so much from our insides to be able to tell others of where we have been.
What an incredibly powerful story. I’m so sorry you had to go through this, but the key is you went THROUGH it. You came out on the other side. Hang in there babes. Love ya.
Wow! At least you were able to keep your wits about you, and thankfully, Ben slept through it. I knew I hated that guy from the whole “proper clothes” incident.
You are truly amazing. You did what you had to do to make it through. I’m so glad that you both made it home safely.
That’s an amazing story of survival, and, ultimately, triumph. Bless your heart and Ben’s, too.
I’m proud of you. Thank you for sharing this.
xo
Aunt Becky,
I am crying for you. I am so happy you are with the Daver now. I’m sorry you had to go through such an experience especially with your son.
I am very proud of you for leaving that situation and moving on to a healthier life.
Love you!
You are so amazing. Thank you for sharing this. I don’t even know what to say, but I hope that by sharing, it helps you heal. Oh and I hope that bastard gets what he deserves someday.
Thank you so much for sharing your story here… I’m amazed at how you managed to hold yourself together, and do just what needed to be done to keep your son safe.
So happy to know that you got out… not only of the car, but that relationship.
Thanks for sharing your story, and I’m glad you and your son got out safely.
Oh god, I remember a similar ride I’d forgotten about until now. Thank you for sharing your story, and I’m so very happy you got out unbroken.
Never broken. NEVER broken.
OMG. What a dickhead. You have been through so much, to be so young.
I hope karma has caught up to him. And if it hasn’t, oh, it will.
Much love…
Fucking HELL. FUCK.
Good on you for writing this. It made my heart beat fast … can’t imagine how YOU felt. XOX
You are an amazing woman. So strong, I’m crying.
I’m so glad that you found the Daver. You deserve only the best, kindest of partners in life.
I’m so proud to know you. Sending you all my love, Becky.
I’m so proud of you for telling your story. And I love you. And I’m using the power of the internet to wrap you up in warm, sloppy, loving, internet hugs.
Wow, Becky. You are so brave for pasting this. I SO wish this hadn’t happened to you. But I’m so proud of you for finding the courage to wrtite about it here.
Chills and tears here. My heart aches for you. Thank God Ben has you. Hugs to you for sharing your story and your strength.
Stunning. I could feel your resolve growing as you told on. I am taken back to the stories I heard of my grandma who had the strength (in the 40s!) but *never* talked about it. Because you just didn’t talk about it. Thank you for sharing your strength. And talking about it.
(Sitting here reading this, my legs have gone numb as the blood was needed elsewhere. I think I need to go find some lolcatz to be able to get up again.)
holy wow….so glad it turned out better than it could’ve
How brave you are for speaking out and telling your story and how fortunate you are to have escaped that crazy angry man! I hope your courage inspires other women in abusive relationships to find the strength they need. Your story brings back memories from over 30 years ago when I was in a similar situation – although in my scary ride with an angry drunk boyfriend I was alone – thank god no child was with me. I can’t imagine your terror! Again, thanks for sharing your story.
I am speachless. I had no idea. I now understand why you hate him so much.
Thank you.
I’m speechless. You are a beautiful woman and your children are blessed.
I’m so sorry you had this story to share. And so thankful you have. I wish I could give you and Ben a big squishy hug and tell you how thankful I am that you’re here. Just here.
He is out of control. You? Brave and lovely and I am really proud of what you’ve done here
I just cannot believe how hideous this dude is.
Dear Aunt Becky,
Thanks for sharing this. I have never been brave enough to share my personal life with the devil. Although I got out alive, eventually got my mental health back and married and have a family now. I am proud of you for being ready. I hope to be there someday.
Aunt Becky, I knew you were a special person, and reading this story only reinforces that belief tenfold.
I’m amazed at how you kept calm… I don’t know if I could have done that.
Thank you for sharing your story. I admit, when I saw the title, I scrolled to the end to see if it was you and was not surprised when I saw that yep, it was. You really are an amazing woman and your ex didn’t know you very well when he said you’d never amount to anything. You are SO much more than he ever deserved. I’m so glad The Daver has you now & that you are loved.
What a horrifying, terrifying ordeal.
It’s amazing you managed to stay so calm. I wanted to combust with outrage just reading that.
I’m so glad that both you and Ben managed to walk away from that unsacthed.
wow…thank you for sharing…glad you are fine now and never broken!
Becky,
(first I have to say, I was going to put a fake name down…but that would empower him to this day if I did that…so I put my real name down.)
Having lived thru 9 years of the most horrible physical, mental, emotional abuse myself…I just have to say I am proud of you for speaking out…and for NEVER letting him break you.
I am thankful you got out with your son ALIVE!
I can only hope that your baby does NOT have a relationship with this man to this day…or that with TPTB’s help he has turned his life around. Whichever it is…Thank you for sharing your story…someday I will tell my family mine.
Becky, thank you for sharing your painful story. I cannot imagine going through that. I am thankful Ben was able to sleep through and not have to see his dad like that. I’m left wondering though what Dave felt about all of that happening?
You were incredibly brave and very strong to maintain your composure through that horrifying ordeal. Your son is lucky to have you in his corner.
I’m so proud of you Becks. It takes guts to pick yourself back up and never look back. Remember, once you break the cycle, it’s always broken. You’re a strong woman and a great mom. Your son (and his future wife/girlfriend) will thank you for never subjecting him to that kind of violence.
Thank you for sharing this.
I am glad you and Ben made it through all of that. Thank you for sharing.
Holy shit, Becky. I never knew.
I’m so effing sorry, and proud of you for sharing.
First, you’re an amazing woman, to go through that experience, and still keep your composure enough to let Ben continue to have a relationship with that (insert strong enough descriptor here). It takes a lot to separate the insanity of his behavior towards you from the feelings he has for your son.
Second, I’m so glad that the Daver is one of Ben’s people, because he deserves a stable, loving father. You already know how lucky you and the Daver are to have found each other.
Third, on a technical note, you might want to consider writing some fiction. Your writing of this was excellent, and if you could channel that into some made up stuff, you would totally be the next Dan Brown or other popular writer.
I am stunned.
I am in tears.
I’m in awe at what it took to survive that, much less write it.
Thank you.
Thank you for sharing your story. I’m glad that you and Ben survived. You are strong, brave, and always true to yourself.
Been there. Thanks for reminding us that “broken” isn’t the same as “destroyed.”
OMG! OMG!! OMG!!! Holy crap! You are amazing… I am sitting here crying after reading that… And I am completely amazed you don’t completely freak every time Ben has to go with his dad! I’d need “The Triple V” Valium, Vicodin and Vodka to get through the times my child was with a lunatic like that. No wonder you can’t sleep. Know that if you made it through that with your spirit intact, you can make it through anything. It’s true that what doesn’t kill us only makes us stronger – you are a freaking Superhero! You go girl!!!
This gave me chills.
I have no words. I read this over an hour ago and I keep coming back hoping I’ll have the right words. I don’t.
You are one amazing woman to have been so level headed in that situation. I kept thinking I’d have been crying, begging for my son’s life, promising whatever future it would have taken for him to stop the car and let us out. I hope that man has zero contact with his son, or with you.
Oh god Becky. Damn. I have nothing but deep deep relief that you made it out of all of that.
wow.. your story leaves me breathless.
thank you for sharing.
Wow, Aunt Becky. That’s some powerful stuff. So glad you and Ben are okay.
Thank you for sharing your story. Your strength and courage are amazing! You are amazing!
Wow. You are so very strong – I know how little that means…because women are always the strong ones, even when we don’t want to be. But we do survive, no matter who or what tries to keep us down. You have not just survived, but thrived. So happy with your Daver now! You give me hope – that maybe someday I will thrive and find the one whose love can heal those old wounds. Thanks.
Wow, thank God for small miracles like sleeping children, and big ones like you both getting home safely. I can’t imagine this nightmare you lived and that you still have to deal with him on a daily basis. Wow. Thank you for sharing.
Oh Aunt Becky… I never would have guessed. Thank God you were ok. Thank God you knew what to do. And Thank God you and Ben have the Daver….
Thank you for having the courage to survive and to share your story.
Other commenters have written about your courage- both during this event and in telling your story- with more eloquence than I can. I’ll reserve my comment for your writing. It takes real talent to bring readers in like this, to make them feel the horror of that moment. I hope there’s a book deal in your immediate future. More people need to read what you have to say.
[...] you, I would be nothing. Someday, maybe I will explain why today was such a pivotal, important, terrible awful day. But for now, let me just say that I love you more than anything and I’m sorry and I hope [...]
My god, I cannot begin to imagine the kind of strength you have. I am glad that you are out of that situation and in a much MUCH better place.
You know I love you.
Holy frack. You’re even more amazing than I’d realized.
Thank goodness you made it out.
Sadly, this sounds familiar. So glad you got out.
Oh my God. I think Al_Pal said it best: “You’re even more amazing than I’d realized”. You survived that and you are unbroken. You are a one in a million, amazingly, breath takingly strong woman and mother. I am honored to know you. Thank you for sharing.