Rock Bottom Of The Tub

I awoke to a cold chill. The room was bright, when I moved my arm I could feel the sensation of water.

That’s when I realized it, I was in the fucking bath tub. In the distance I could hear my baby crying. With a shiver, I climbed my enormous ass out and draped a towel around me. What time was it? Where was my phone.

Shit, I had been sitting on it.

Both of my children were awake already in their rooms. It was 8:17 a.m., I was late leaving for work but I couldn’t call due to my phone soup. Where the hell was my (now ex) husband Beans?

I looked down at my body and discovered I was head to toe in bruises. Every move I made stung a little.

After I made the kids a fast breakfast, I went online and messaged my friend Laverne.

“Laverne, I just woke up in the bath tub and Beans is gone. My phone got wet, I need to be at work in twenty minutes and I have no way to call my boss or anybody to watch the kids.”

“Oh my God.” She responded in shock, “I can call your work for you, give me the number. If you want to drop the kids here for the day, that’s fine. Are you okay?”

“You are fucking amazing Laverne. I will be there in a half an hour. I’ll explain more then.” I wrote.

This was not the first time something like this had happened to me but it was going to be the last. Beans had done some sick shit in our marriage but leaving me alone in a tub while the kids were sleeping was too much.

This was the day I hit rock bottom.

I was in robotic mode as I got ready for work. After loading the kids in the car I drove the 30 miles to Laverne’s house before turning around and heading twenty miles in the opposite direction to the salon I worked at. The entire drive I rode in silence except for the movie playing on repeat in my head.

The night before, after working two jobs in 18 hours I came home beat. Beans had already put the kids to bed. I was exhausted and just wanted to relax in the hot tub with some wine and some company. Beans was against the idea of company. He wanted to spend quality time alone with me.

After sitting next to him on the couch for an hour I grew quite bored. I told Beans that I was getting in the hot tub. He declined to join me but told me he would be going to grab some fast food. As was the norm back then, Beans never came back. I was desperate for someone to talk to, plus I was already feeling a good buzz from the wine.

I sent the couple next door a text,

“Naked chick in the hot tub, wanna join me?”

A minute later I was greeted with a response, “Hahaha! Sure, we have nothing going on. Be by in a bit.”

Not long after they joined me. We shared some drinks together, I chain smoked and we had some laughs. That’s when it happened. The sliding glass door sounded like it was being ripped off it’s hinges.

“What the fuck is going on? I told you I didn’t want company. Un-fucking real. You stupid fucking Bitch.”

The next thing I knew a bag of burritos came flying at my head. It missed me and landed directly in the pool behind me.

It was Big Bully Beans, on the attack. I followed him into the house.

“Calm down, Beans. Why are you so upset?”

“I fucking told you I didn’t want company tonight. The minute I leave you invite people over!”

“No, it was more like an hour after you didn’t come back I invited them.” I defended myself.

“Bullshit! I checked your phone. You are lying!”

“Then, you are aware I’m telling the truth. Where were you anyway?” I asked.

“I was getting you food!” He yelled back.

“For two hours? Calm down, it’s not a big deal.” I waddled my giant buzzed bottom over to Bean-o and attempted to put my arm around his neck to calm him down.

Beans did not like this.

He shoved me onto the ground. My fat ass took out my son’s high chair. As I was pulling myself up, Carb-In-A-Can-Man came at me again pushing my face into the wall. I struggled to get myself up as he struggled to keep me down.

That’s all I could remember.

I pulled up to the salon and parked in the lot at work before limping my swollen self inside and apologized for being late. My manager asked me upon sight what the hell had happened. I explained to her as best I could. Then, I asked if it would be okay if I left on my lunch break to go to the court-house to get a restraining order.

I walked into the court-house shaken and terrified. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do but I knew that protecting my children came first. Once the order was in place I had two days until Beans would be served.

So, I did what any roughed up heffer in a situation over her head would do. I called my best male friend Gonzo and asked for help. He said he would be there Friday morning with his father to help move me. I also called my dad. Next, I texted the landlord. Turned out her ex was in prison for what he did to her, she was empathetic to my situation.

Beans texted me and told me he was moving out before he had any idea I had placed the restraining order on him. In fact by Wednesday the house we shared was already vacant of the majority of his belongings. He came and went as he pleased not willing to watch the kids while I worked. His behavior was more than frightening and I was scared he would do something even more violent towards me or worse, one of the kids.

The weeks prior to this Beans’ had left his job and his pill addiction has worsened. He was hardly sleeping and he was shitting on all the toilet seats, unaware.

Actually Beans did take Tallulah once, though he refused to watch Pj. This was the very first time he decided that Pj was no longer his son. Although Pj was not Beans’ biological child he had raised him since he was less than a year old and my son referred to Beans as “Dada”.

The Thursday before the order was to be served, I dropped my kids in California with my grandparents. Friday morning, my three advocates were loading up my U-Haul when Beans finally showed up.

With him were the police. Beans had been served the restraining order that morning and told the officers he needed to get his belongings. The lie became apparent once he started a violent rampage looking for Tallulah.

“She is with *****’s mother!” My dad shouted out the obvious lie as the police were escorting Beans’ away. After all I hadn’t spoken to my mother in over a year at this point.

Next up to my front door that morning was Child Services. Beans was becoming increasingly desperate for control. I showed the worker my restraining order and after a brief run down she left with a promise to send someone to check in on me in California.

While I had been speaking to the social worker, everyone helping me load became distracted, they went inside for a well deserved break. Random strangers had actually stopped curbside and were taking boxes of my belongings. They were like fucking vultures, I had never witnessed anything like it. I didn’t really care. Everything wouldn’t fit into the moving van anyway. My only real loss were three boxes of shoes. Though I will admit I have had fun replacing them!

Desperate, Beans fled to my mother’s house. Those two have been glued to the hip ever since. Actually, pretty much everything Beans says now a days comes directly from the horse’s mouth. It’s a bit astounding, really.

The next morning I left my whole life and moved in with my grandparents in California. As promised the social worker showed up. After telling her my story she advised that I continue to do everything I could to protect my children.

I went to the court-house in California in an attempt to obtain another restraining order and was denied. A few days later Beans’ had issued an emergency protection order on Tallulah to have her returned to the state of Nevada.

Lucky for me, I was able to obtain an attorney, by a stroke of luck, literally the day before the order was to take affect.

But that’s another story.

After a later discussion with my former neighbors, I was informed that Beans like to slip downers into my drinks as a way of controlling my sleep patterns. Basically, when he was ready for me to pass out he’d put a few pills in my wine. I had a mutual friend confirm this. I’m not really sure if this was the case that night. It could have been the mixture of alcohol combined with the head bashing that made me black out. Maybe Beans carried me to that tub. I’d rather not think about it. I’m just happy to be alive.




  1. Mama pajama has a yard long hair on her ass since that Arbor Day brush up in 1999, or some other scolding you lucked out on. I bet she goes to funerals for the free booze. When my wife was expecting she placed my hand on her belly to feel the baby kick. We knew we were having a girl and I told my wife the plans I envisioned for our daughter. You know, school and trips, adventures and things I wanted for her. I want her to meet a nice man, marry, have a family… and if he ever raises a hand to her I’ll kill the mother fucker. My wife burst out in laughter… we’re having a nice conversation and next thing you have her married to a wife beater. Yeah, it was over the top but to look at the bruises and welts on you is not easy. That kind of man can’t be trusted. Mama pajama and Beans bookends for sure.


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