I Choose to . . .

start at the beginning

I've been struggling with a LOT of mental anguish over the decisions I must make.

It would just be SO much easier if I weren't making them alone.

Yesterday I told Jim I wanted a divorce . . .

Not in a confrontational way, and by phone.

He says, Really?  You'd be good with getting a divorce?

Yes, I would.

But, he won't agree to one.  If it weren't for Sam he'd do it, but he's NOT going to be without his boy.

I tried telling him that he could still be very involved with his life.

His response?

I can't even consider that due to my concern for Sam's safety and well being.

Yes, you read that right.

I take care of my son I'd say 95% of the time (and I think I'm stretching it to give Jim 5% since he's rarely alone with him), and he's never had a serious injury in his life.  I mean, really!  He's never even worn a band-aid and he's two and a half!  But, Jim doesn't trust me with the safety of our son.  Of course, he doesn't trust me with anything, even though I'm a highly intelligent, highly responsible individual, so this should surprise no one.

In any case, though he agrees that we could both probably be happier with someone else, he's making the best of it for Sam, and I should too.

He's sucking it up, and I should too.

This conversation essentially went on frustratingly like this for a good 30 minutes.

Now, however, it's as if it never happened.

Outside of an occasional hinted reference he'll make to it, nothing.

He is, however, treating me like gold.

It comes down to this.

He isn't going to help make a dissolution easy, so I have two choices.

I can choose to be happy in my current circumstances, or . . .

I can prepare for what will surely be a fight.

And when I come up swinging, I hope he realizes, he made me what I am . . .

next post

Guilty . . .

start at the beginning

I continue stumbling through every day.

The thing is, every day in an abusive relationship is not bad.  Every day is not abusive.  There are actually some pretty good days.  And sometimes, those days last a while . . .

This is why I've ended up staying so darn long . . .  Because, when the relationship is good, it's good.  When the relationship is good, I've dared to dream it can stay that way.  I've dared to dream my dreams can still come true.  I've dared to dream my relationship is normal . . . and good.

It is only with time, as dreams of normalcy are crushed again and again that hope begins slowly dying.  For dreams can only be smashed so many times before the dust they've become can no longer be gathered and reformed.

Hope died . . . slowly . . .  The winds of weariness blew the dust of my dreams away . . .  And I stand in the emptiness left behind . . . broken . . .

I don't like uncertainty.  I like knowing what's happening from one day to the next, and sadly enough, this relationship, this marriage, has become normal to me . . .

So, as I stand broken, in the emptiness that was once my life, I pretend.  I pretend that all is well.  I love you's never get said.  Hugs are no longer spontaneous and fierce.  But . . . life goes on.

The emptiness, however, is pervasive.  The quiet death of dreams and hope buried inside of me.

And, I want out.  And, I think about it often . . . not only during the bad days, but in the good.

Right now, we're in a cycle of good days.  Things, for all practical purposes, are going well.  Still, I think about leaving . . .

And, I feel guilty.

You ever have a boyfriend you know you're going to break up with, and then he does something super sweet for you and you feel guilty?  That's my life now . . . during the good days.

Back rub?  I feel guilty.  Lunch date?  I feel guilty.  Talk of building me a house?  I feel guilty.  Anything he does for me that I enjoy?  I feel guilty.

If I turn my thoughts into action, I'm going to hurt him incredibly.  (I know based on threats he's made, that should be the least of my concerns . . .)

I know we're in our good days right now, but there is a laundry list of grievances he has committed against me . . . a mountain of hurt . . . an emptiness . . . an aching emptiness . . .

I have every reason and every right to consider dissolution . . .

So, why?  Why do I feel  so . damn . guilty ?

next post

A Paralyzed Muddled Mess

start at the beginning

It's been four weeks since I last updated . . .

Tomorrow will be four weeks since my last counseling appointment . . .

(Note to self: schedule next counseling appointment . . .)

I told my counselor about the "January Incident" . . . finally . . .

He listened in disbelief.  He hung his head.  He sat quietly, and then he looked up, directly into my eyes and quietly said, "This goes against everything I stand for, but this relationship needs to be dissolved."

Four weeks later I'm still here.  Why?

I get through all the negativity by thinking, "I could always file for divorce."

But, I'm still here.  Why?

It's not any better.  I haven't been physically threatened, but the negativity continues on an almost daily basis in one way or another . . .

Some statements are as simple as, "I can't believe you didn't know that."  Of course he says this with the utmost superiority . . .

Mostly it's just the way everything he says implies that I'm not a good enough mother.  I don't watch him close enough.  I don't brush his teeth good enough.  I don't discipline correctly.  It . just . never . ends . . .

But sometimes he just comes out and says it, "You're need to be a better mother to your son."  I am being the best mother I know how, and I think that any normal person would view my mothering skills as above par.  So . . .  why do I let his words hurt so much?

And he grumbles because the dishes pile up and laundry hasn't been put away . . .  Well, obviously he's capable of seeing what needs to be done, so why doesn't he lift a finger?  But that's probably just a normal man thing, so perhaps isn't even pertinent to the whole abuse situation . . .

(I just took a brief break to schedule my next counseling appointment . . . August 3rd . . . three more weeks . . .)

The most egregious offence he's committed in the last four weeks?  He was trying to teach Sam to do something completely inconsequential in the grand scheme of life, and Sam just wasn't getting it.  He told Sam, "You're just like your mom.  You have no intelligence."  It's the first time he's ever said anything remotely like this to Sam, and so far it hasn't happened again, but if there's one thing I've learned during this last decade, it is that once he commits an abusive act/behavior and gets by with it, it will happen again . . .  Now it's just a matter of when . . .

I'm rambling a great deal, and I apologize.  This is the mental conflict I live with.  The rambling thoughts that jumble in my brain daily.  I honestly deal with it by ignoring it.  That's why I've neglected blogging for four weeks.  Facing reality is tough.  Facing reality brings tears.  Facing reality makes me look this monster in the face, feel like a failure, and admit that even though I know what I need to do, I'm too weak to do it.

So, I live a half life.  A life where I look so totally normal.  Just another working mom and wife trying to make it all work, always feeling the obligations of life battle over time with the desires to simply enjoy my child.  But,  hidden, where precious few see, is the paralysis . . . the lack of desire to move forward with life as it is.

Jim speaks of building a house this fall, but I don't even want to talk about it.  I desperately want another child, a sibling for my little Sam, and though time is working against me, I don't even mention it.  Because our relationship isn't good, and only a fool would get in deeper . . .

I should be making steps to dissolve this relationship.  But I'm paralyzed to do that too.

So, I'm left wallowing in the muddled mess of my mind, trapped in this inexplicable paralysis . . .

And now, I leave you with something that came to me as I was taking a walk to clear my head this past week . . .

Wish

If I had a shooting star

And a wish to wish come true,

I'd wish that I'd never

. . . heard of you.

But if I'd never heard of you,

I would not have him,

And he has my heart

In a way you never will.

07/09/2011

(c) copyright 2011
may not be reproduced in part or in whole without express permission of the author

next post

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 . . .

next post

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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)

next post

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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 . . .

One Step . . .

start at the beginning

Many moons ago, Jim and I sought counseling together . . . for the second time . . .

I never felt able to be completely open and honest about the abuse in our relationship at counseling, because Jim was sitting right there.  So, we only talked about the things that Jim seemed able/open to talk about . . .

And they were things that needed talking about, but no real progress was made . . .

Counseling quickly went by the wayside, as Jim felt the counselor was "siding" with me, or more aptly, against him.

I suppose when you're wrong and refuse to admit it, counseling might feel that way . . .

So, we stopped going.  We were supposed to begin counseling with someone else, but as you might imagine . . . That never happened . . .

During a "crisis" moment I called our counselor to speak with him about said "crisis", and I was finally honest with him . . .  It was my first time to ever speak to him alone . . .

Me:  "Jim can sometimes be very verbally abusive, and it has on occasion become physical."

Counselor:  "I know."

Those two little words are were so powerful.  They conveyed to me that my abuse is not so invisible as I imagine, and I am not crazy . . .

Since that conversation - we spoke at length about the situation at the time - I haven't had any professional help in evaluating the mess that is my life.

Today I called.

Today I made an appointment.

Today I took a step toward help.

I don't know where counseling will lead.

I don't know how often I'll go.

But I know it's a step in the right direction . . .

And I will continue plodding along . . . one step at a time . . .

next post

Let's Talk Addictions . . .

start at the beginning

Hi.  My name is Abigail, and I have a jewelry addiction . . .

Really.  I'm not kidding.  

Jim:  "Every time I turn around you're wearing something new.  What is it?  Do you have a jewelry addiction?"

Me:  "No!  This isn't even new . . ."

Jim (as if I've said nothing):  "You wouldn't like it if I were to just start gambling our money away would you?"

Me:  "No, of course not, but I hardly think that's the same thing, and once again, this isn't new."

Jim:  "You don't need to lie about it.  I just don't want my money being wasted on things that don't matter."

I just let it go . . . because, why bother?

All of my jewelry can be summarized as follows (this includes everything: necklaces, bracelets, lapel pins, rings . . . everything):

-- I own 26 pieces of jewelry in total.

-- Of those, 11/26 were acquired after Jim and I met, with only 7/11 being acquired after we were married.

-- Furthermore, of the 26 pieces of jewelry, Jim's funds, or joint funds have only been expended on 5 pieces for a total jewelry expenditure of approximately $260.00 (this INCLUDES my wedding set) over the course of a DECADE.

-- And of the pieces Jim did contribute toward, he put zero effort into the selection of any of them.  I'll admit, during sentimental moments this grieves my heart.  To me it's kind of romantic to think a man might love you enough to actually put thought into buying a piece of jewelry for you . . . especially something as important as an engagement/wedding ring.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

This is the crap abusive relationships are made of.  Arguments that shouldn't be arguments.  Absurd accusations (like jewelry addiction in this case).  And a largely successful, very exacting grip of control over EVERYTHING . . .

It can happen any time . . . any place . . . about any thing . . .  And, it will happen many, many times . . . over and over again . . . f o r e v e r . . .

next post