One Reason Why I Stay

start at the beginning

I could tell you anything about my husband.

I could lie.

You would never know . . .

But, this is a journey for me.  A journey to help me find myself again.  And, I cannot find myself in untruths . . .  

Some truths are that my husband is emotionally abusive.  He is mentally abusive.  He is physically abusive.  He is manipulative.  He is, quite bluntly, a sociopath.

And you help me ask of myself the tough questions . . .

I'm not happy with my marriage.  I'm drained from the work I've put in and the lack of results I'm left with.  If my husband fell of the face of the planet today, I would feel relief.

So the biggest question that lingers . . .  Why do I stay?

I told my counselor in my first session last month that there's only one reason left that I'm there, and that's for Sam.  You see, it's not just me anymore.  And for all of the very bad truths I share with you about my husband, there is one very good truth.  He loves his son (at least as much as someone like him can), and Sam loves his Daddy.

The questions are hard though.  I mean, I stay because of Sam, but part of me also insists that I should leave because of Sam.

I remember growing up and watching my parents . . .  as they'd come and go.  To see them embrace and kiss - I was watching two people in love after all of these years enter their own world for a moment . . . a world where only they existed with this love for one another.  And I feel so amazingly blessed that I grew up seeing this beautiful thing.

And even now as I think of it, I cry.  For this is the love I want, and this is the love I want my son to believe in, and this is the love he will never see between his Mama and Daddy.  Even if we can "get along", we'll never be able to give Sam this.

But, as my counselor said . . . to Sam, what we have is normal.  All he knows is he lives in a house with both his Mommy and his Daddy and he feels secure and safe, and we're both there for him.

But how do I know when staying together is doing our little boy more harm than good?

My counselor says I have to trust myself.  I have to believe in myself that I will know.  It's funny that during the course of an abusive relationship, not only do you lose trust and faith in your partner, you lose trust and faith in yourself . . .

But, for now I stay, because I watch my little boy, and every day I see him look at his Daddy with total adoration . . .

And I just don't know how to take that away from him when he's too young to understand . . .

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My next counseling appointment is tomorrow . . .

Convincing a Marble . . .

start at the beginning

I went for my first counseling appointment . . . two weeks ago yesterday . . .

I probably should have updated much sooner, because some of the details have faded; but perhaps it's better that I'm updating later, because maybe it's the things that I vividly remember that are most important . . .

When I walked in and sat down, I had to admit . . .  I don't really know why I'm here . . .  I don't know what I expect to accomplish . . .  I just know I need help . . .  And I'll probably cry . . .

And, I did cry.  And I had to admit some truths that I had trouble accepting . . .  Like, I want to make him happy.  . . .  No!  I don't want to make him happy!  I don't!  . . .  But, obviously I do, because I keep trying!

Jim is a miserable person.  He just is.  And sometimes miserable people like to be miserable.  They are not going to change, and nothing you can do is going to change that.  Nothing you can do is going to truly make him happy.

But, I'm not really trying to make him happy.  I'm just trying to keep him from being mad.

How's that working out?

Well, it seems like he's always mad about something.

And yet you keep doing it!  How sick is that?  That's insane!  Not to worry.  I used to work at a mental hospital, and discovered that we're all a little insane.  The difference is that those who are happy in their insanity cannot be made better and you will go insane trying . . .

He walked across the room and came back holding his hand out to give me something . . .

Now, what is that?

What is this?  Some kind of trick question?  . . .  A marble?

Now, I want you to talk to the marble.  I want you to talk to it and convince it that it's a diamond.

I can't do that!

Why not?

Because it's crazy!  Because it's not a diamond, it's a marble!

Well, it's clear, and sparkley when the light hits it just right.  Surely if you talk to it long enough, with just the right words, you can convince it to be a diamond!  Go ahead, talk to it . . .

No.

Why not?

Because no matter what I say, it's a marble.  It'll always be a marble.

Well, that's what you've been doing in your marriage.  Jim is a marble.  He'll always be a marble, and nothing you say or do is going to change that.  You keep trying, and part of you secretly holds out hope that if you try hard enough and long enough that he'll turn in to prince charming.  He won't.

Now what I want you to do is carry this with you all the time as a reminder.  Jim is a marble.  You might want him to be a diamond, but he'll always be a marble.  And each time you're tempted to try to reason with his insanity, each time you're tempted to do something unrealistic to make him happy, I want you to feel this marble and remember, you can not change him.  The only person you can change is you.

So, every day for the two weeks since my counseling appointment, I have carried this marble.  I've had successes and I've had failures, but every day I've been reminded . . .  The only person I can change is me . . .

Because today I just might be this . . .

But, I'm working on me.  I'm improving me.  And when I get done chipping away at the marble that is me, I'm going to be this . . .

(The Hope Diamond in May 2010 at the Smithsonian in Washington, DC)

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I finally called today and scheduled my next counseling appointment.  I took his first available appointment.  How fitting . . .  I will be sitting in my counselors office on my 10th wedding anniversary, because my marriage is a failure, and I cannot fix it.  The only person I can fix is me . . .