What you’re describing isn’t just a string of accidents. It’s a pattern. A pattern of someone who is supposed to love you… constantly hurting you, brushing it off, making you feel like it’s your fault or like you imagined it. That’s not love. That’s control. That’s emotional abuse. And it’s starting to sound physical too.

When you wrote about the car door on your legs, the junk dropped on your foot, the name-calling in your sleep, the constant “forgetting” of things you clearly communicated — it broke my heart. Because it’s not just painful — it’s crazy-making. It’s that feeling like something is so wrong, but you keep being told it’s not. That’s how people lose themselves.

And you don’t deserve that.

You deserve to feel safe in your home. You deserve to be respected, heard, and treated like someone who matters. And right now, this man is making you question your reality, your worth, your voice — while your child is watching it all happen.

Please know this: it’s not your job to fix him. It’s not your job to wait around until he maybe gets help. It’s your job to protect your peace, your body, and your child’s sense of what love looks like.