A Mom, Wife, Sister, Daughter & Woman…Overcoming Domestic Abuse With God

This past weekend was my second unsuccessful attempt to leave my husband.  The first time, he wasn’t yet my husband and we didn’t have our baby daughter.  I wish I would have had the balls to do it then.

Thursday we got into a knock-down drag-out fight before I left for work and he told me ,”you know where the door is…either you make the decision or I will”.  I cried on my way to work and shook for two hours after I got there.  The same thoughts kept running through my mind – “i’ve got to get out, it’s the 4th time he’s threatened this, my marriage is eating me alive,  he is an abuser”.  This treatment has been going on for almost a year and has gotten progressively worse in the past month.  I never know what is going to set him off and it makes my stomach burn like fire each time we argue.

So I took the step of telling my office manager about my nightmare and she offered to let me stay with her (which she later recanted – so much for support).  I also went and looked at an apartment over my lunch and decided I’d rather move there.  My company offered me the deposit and rent money and money to pay daycare for a month.  It felt like a dream come true and took a huge weight off my shoulders.  I smiled and felt happy in a way I hadn’t in months – finally, I had options. 

Then doubt crept in.  I worked out my budget and grim reality stared me in the face…with my existing bills, new bills, truck payment and daycare I would have no money left for groceries, gas or paying back my company for the loan.  I had to stay.

I confronted my abuser in the early pre-dawn hours as we both lay in the bed our daughter was conceived in.  He denied and got angry and finally agreed to go to counseling.  We had several long, angry talks about where this marriage has gone wrong.  He found the lease and was livid but also shook up that I had made such a concrete decision.  Finally last night, the ever present burning in my stomach eased back to a dull ache. 

This morning, it’s back again – the searing pain of regret burning brightly in my belly.  We got into another argument and more blaming ensued.  I called him on my way to work in tears and he ended up hanging up on me.  I hate this life and I hate that my spouse can treat me like crap and it’s just supposed to just be ok because he isn’t hitting me.


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