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Trust January 15, 2008

Posted by only4now in abuse, betrayal, Depression, doubts, lies, spousal abuse, Trust.
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Today is a very low day for me. I don’t even know what to say, or how to put it in words.

My husband is lying to me. I know it and I believe he knows that I know… and it is going to be ugly tonight when I go home. I have a couple choices to make.

1.) I can confront him and let him “explain” his actions and lies. He will then proceed to twist this all around and make me the bad person. He will bring up anything and everything that he has ever thought I have done wrong. (mostly imaginary stuff that he saves for repeated arguments) You know, that I have cheated on him, which is a complete lie. Or, that I have been spending money behind his back, again a complete lie.

He will accuse me of looking at the neighbor in a provocative manner. He will bring up a guy I was dating years ago when the two of us first met. He will accuse me of sleeping with co-workers.

Basically, when he is thru trashing me, I will want to die. At this point it is not much of a push to bring me to that point anyway. As it now stands, I am not self harming directly… What I am doing instead is making myself available to harm by others. I have stopped locking the office building when I am here by myself. I no longer lock my car doors or even wear a seat belt. The house is basically left wide open.

I purposely antagonise people who piss me off hoping one of them will just ‘do something.’

Fuck, I just don’t care.

Back to my husband…

My other choice is to put my crappy fake smile on and again ACT like everything is ok. Pretend that I am oblivious to his lies and wait for another manic wave to lift me out of the shit hole in which I am now dwelling.  

I don’t drink often… but, tonight I am going home and getting plowed

Ha, I just looked at the title that I picked and realized that I was going to write about something completely different.

I suppose I could add: I don’t trust him! (now the title does not need to be changed)

Protective Coating January 2, 2008

Posted by only4now in abuse, betrayal, Depression, doubts, Pain, spousal abuse, Trust.
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He scratched thru the layers of protective coating in which I surround myself. The protective coating which stops me from feeling the pain and vulnerability.

So many times I have been hurt, that I developed a special shell to block out the pain. In so doing, I have become numb to many feelings. But, it makes it so much easier to put on the false smile and say, “Yes Sir” “No Sir” What can I do for you?”

Very rote, but very safe.  I am no longer me, but I am no longer in pain.

*shrugs*

Ya win some, ya lose some.

Well… Monday night he scratched thru the layers leaving me so very vulnerable. Let me retrace and see if any of this makes sense in writing.

A few years back I made a mistake. Innocent thinking on my part, but no excuse to him. His younger brother had been over the day before and left a few things at our house. On this day, Jeff was at work and I was home by myself, cleaning… basically puttering around, kind of a lazy day. His brother knocked on the door and asked to come in and get his things. This seemed innocent enough to me. Growing up, our home had an open door policy. Friends, family and neighbors came and went at will. We were very trusting.

Anyway, his brother got his things and left. I went back to cleaning, thinking nothing of the event. That evening when my hubby came home, he walked right up to me and punched me in the face. He then proceeded to beat me, while cursing me for being a slut. I remember begging him to stop, and then begging God to let me die.

The next morning he told me that if I ever let another man into our home again he would kill me. Later he told me that his brother said I answered the door in a sexy nightie and ‘came on’ to him.

I think the pain of him believing his brother over me was worse than the black eye and bruised ribs.  

Trust is a major part of my life. I have learned to trust no one fully. I trust different people on different levels. And my Dad is the closest I will ever come to full trust. However, I am afraid to open up to him and have him think less of me. Crazy web I am tangled in.

Back to my brother-in-law ~ That was the first time in which he lied and I paid the price. On the second occasion, he stole something from my husband’s truck. Jeff was giving him a ride home and stopped for gas. When Jeff was inside paying, his brother removed the item from the glove compartment.

A couple days later my hubby asked if I had seen the missing item. Immediately I thought of his no-good brother and asked if he might have taken it. Jeff asked his brother, who promptly told him that I had given him the item. Without allowing me to defend the lie, Jeff came home and knocked me silly. This time I stood my ground and insisted we both go confront his brother. When asked again, with me in the same room, his brother admitted he had taken the item. Jeff then punched him and told me he would never have anything to do with his worthless brother again.

Over the next couple years I developed an intense hatred for that man. Anytime his name came up in a conversation I became ill. Slowly Jeff let him right back into his life (they are brothers after all… bs)

Fast forward to last week ~ His brother had called a couple of times, once to tell us that they had moved into our neighborhood. (SHIT) Another time to ask is he could make a few dollars washing my car. (HELL NO!) Then on New Year’s Eve he calls and talks with Jeff on the two-way radio. Hearing his actual voice made me nauseous and I got up and left the room.

The remainder of the night my emotions flipped back and forth between anger and pain. I felt like my husband had betrayed me by once again opening his arms to his brother.

Yesterday I could not take it any longer. His betrayal had broken thru the protective coating. I had to confront my husband, and ask him to at least make certain that I was not in the room when he is talking with his brother. He wanted to know why.

WHY? WHY? WHY? Why didn’t he already know the answer? Why was he making me tell him again? How could he forget?

He then told me that if my feelings were so strong against his brother, there must have been a lot more between the two of us and I needed to come clean. I became hysterical, shrieking at him. The pain was so acute that I could not stop until I was drained of energy.

This is all bizarre for me because I am very passive. I am so good about hiding my feelings. I do not crack…

Which brings me to today ~ Today I am about as low as I have felt in my life. I don’t feel suicidal. I just feel empty.

Slowly, I will repair the protective coating. Each time I rebuild my shell, it becomes thicker and tougher to penetrate. Perhaps one day, it will just be me… for I will have succeeded in forcing everyone else out.  

Forever.

What is really screwed up about my thought process ~ I am full of hatred for his brother for the lies, but not mad at my husband for hitting me. I am hurt that my hubby does not trust me enough to believe me over that piece of shit. Why am I not mad at him for what he does to me? Why do I need him to believe in me? This crap is so messed up. Why does my heart break every time I think of losing him? Why do I care?

A Night of Pain December 12, 2007

Posted by only4now in abuse, Pain, spousal abuse.
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 (What does not kill us makes us stronger???)I have no idea what fueled his rage this time. Maybe I got on his case about drinking. Maybe I rolled my eyes at him. I cannot remember.

I could feel the slow boil building and I was growing more apprehensive. My mind raced, trying to think of things to say to calm him down. Everything I uttered must have come out ass-backwards. He was livid.

I tried to ignore him, hoping he would blow off steam, maybe break a few dishes and let it go. This seemed to make everything worse. Why was he so mad at me? I had been so careful … speeding thru traffic so that I would not be late… Cooking his favorite food… Smiling politely and asking about his day.

It did not matter… I knew he was going to hit me and I could only hope I could reason with him, so that it would not be as bad as last time.

He was yelling at me now. He wanted my car keys … and would not believe me when I told him that I gave them to him when I got home. I always handed them to him when I got home. It is his way of making sure I did not leave in the middle of the night.

He grabbed me by the throat and slammed my head into the wall. As I lay slumped on the floor, he began destroying the house. Screaming that he would find where I had hidden the keys. I wanted to help him find them so that he would stop screaming at me … but, I knew better than to move.

He broke first one than another chair over the dining room table, throwing the back of the second chair in my direction. A piece of the wood lodged in the wall above my head. And still, I did not dare move. I once made that mistake.

He picked up a third chair and slammed it into the table. This time the dining room table split in half. He moved on to the buffet … pulling all the drawers out and throwing them around the house. One hit me in the arm. I tried to keep from flinching as I knew it would draw more attention to me.

He came over and grabbed me by the hair, pulling me into the office. He threw me on the floor, wanting me to watch as he threw my computer on the floor. He yelled, “You want me to keep going? Where are your keys?”

I just shook my head no. Too afraid to speak. I don’t know how long it lasted, maybe only minutes. And then he pulled out his gun and held it to my head. I closed my eyes and prepared to die. I could feel the tears burning on my cheek, but did not want him to see them.  And then everything went black. I could hear him yelling and felt the sting of his boot in my ribs. But, I could not focus.

He had hit me pretty hard with the gun and my mind would not clear… So, I stayed in a limp pile on the floor and I fell asleep, hoping I would die.

Upon waking, I cried seeing the house. It had not been a dream as I had hoped. I remained still, listening for any sound to tell me he was in the house. Nothing. How long had I been sleeping? Where is he? My mind raced…

His gun was on the desk… Why did he leave it there? He is never careless with his gun. I did not hesitate. I grabbed the gun and ran to the big walk-in closet and hid. I was not going to let him kill me. Not tonight.

All night, I stayed crouched in the corner of the closet with blankets and boxes in front of me. My muscles ached, my head ached, and my heart ached.

Twice during the night, I held the gun to my head and tried to find the courage to pull the trigger. And I cried some more because I was too weak to do it. I despise my own weakness.

I thought about climbing out the window and running somewhere, anywhere. Yet, I stayed. Was it fear of him finding me or fear of being alone?

As morning came, I decided to face life … whatever that is.

Am I now stronger because of this? Maybe one day I will be… but for now, I am not