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

Posts tagged ‘husband’

At Least I’m Free

“You might be eating dirt & weeds, but at least you’re free.” Navy Seals

 Life is a rollercoaster right now.  I have good days, I have great days and I have days so low that I beg God to make the pain stop.  I go to work, take care of my kids, attend their activities and I worry.  I worry about all the things in my kids’ lives that I have no control over.  All the obstacles I have given them by marrying their disordered fathers.  It’s enough to make me want to crawl under a rock and die.

So, I continue to put one foot in front of the other and push on.  Cause while I am eating dirt and weeds right now I can truly say that at least I’m free.



Vagueness, rage, lack of commitment, hope, rejection, name-calling, abandonment, love — a crazy, uncertain roller coaster ride. I never, ever knew where I stood; but, when I was so rude as to ASK I got only disgust and anger and blame. I was supposed to be some kind of perfect smiling plastic person who had no needs and made no demands on him or his time. It wore me down so much. I didn’t even know who I was anymore.  I kept trying, though — trying to be perfect and sweet and uncomplaining, even when hurt and dumped and devalued.

He Scares Our Daughter

Dear hubby was in one of his “super husband” moods this weekend.  He disciplined, cleaned, contributed and acted like a normal person.  Acted being the key word here.  All of us in the house are aware of how quickly he can “shut off” the nice guy routine and go back to being a total asshole in the blink of an eye.  But we enjoy it while we have it and I continue to search for a way to safely extract myself from the mess that is my life.

However, an incident on Sunday added a whole new urgency to the matter, which I will share here. 

I have a shoulder joint that is a mess and my neck goes out all the time due to whiplash in ’99.  I have been to the chiropractor but it just keeps coming back.  Sunday was no exception and my neck absolutely burned like it was on fire.  Taking advantage of dear hubby’s good mood, I asked for a neck rub, and was rewarded – truly a rare moment.  My baby girl had climbed on to my lap and was sitting watching tv when she happened to glance up at my shoulder to see dear hubby’s hand.  The look on her face was of panic and she fussed and tried to shove dear hubby’s hand away.  I soothed her as I moved away from him and she and I went in to another room, pretending to be busy.

My heart sank in to my stomach as I realized that even at 17 months she knows how much he scares me.  She was trying to protect me.


This is where I am and where I have been for some time now.  Lost.  All over the place.  Flitting from indecisive to firmly decided and back again.  And then it hits…the belly-churning fear.  How will dear husband react to being served papers?  What level of rage will he hit when he realizes where the money came from for such service?  Will he try to throw me out of our the house?  How much harder will life be once the decision is FINALLY made?

And then my mind drifts to how life will be after the deed is done.  Calm.  Peaceful.  Happy.  Healthy.  A life of MY choosing: what we eat, where we go, who we see and what color the comforter will be on my bed.  A life well lived; no longer hidden out of shame and fear.

Am I strong enough to move forward?  To get myself un-stuck?  To finally break free from the madness that is him – the arbitrary rules that change daily and never knowing if it’s Jekyll or Hyde I will wake up with each day.  God, I hope so. 

I honestly don’t know how much more of this I can take.


The stress in my house is now starting to affect my job and my overall outlook on life.  I am in the process today of cleaning up a MAJOR screw-up at my job and hoping I don’t lose the client to boot.  These types of oversights are not like me at all and reflect my utter distraction with all the bullshit that’s been going on. Speaking of which, dear hubby slept on the couch last night. Why? Because I confronted him about back-stabbing me again in front of his son.  I was nice bitchy about it, very firm and in-his-face so that there was no denying the facts of what he had done.  And he’d only been home about a half hour when this shit went down…after leaving me home alone all weekend with 5 kids. This is but one day in my life and with my GAD I really don’t need any extra “help” in the non-supportive spouse arena.

I have also come to realize with each passing day that I am becoming more and more like dear hubby – lacking in empathy and seeing shadows where there are none. Is paranoia contagious? I have read that a narcissist’s spouse starts to mirror the same behaviours in time because the narcissist projects so much crap onto their SO and they eventually begin to believe it. Stockholm syndrome, anyone?

It’s yet another reason I need to get gone.


I feel like a shadow boxer – always ducking and looking over my shoulder for the next smack upside the head.  It came today, in the usual manner, sucking the strength out of my body. 

I ran home at lunch today to grab a paper I had forgotten on my desk.  From the driveway, I could see a note stuck to the front door and assumed UPS had tried to deliver something.  Then I remembered that I had gotten everything I had recently ordered.  My steps slowed as that realization washed over me and by the time I reached the front step my brain was screaming “this won’t be good”.  It wasn’t.  Dear hubby is being served a “civil paper” by the local sheriff’s office.  Lots of stuff raced through my mind but nothing concrete as a reason for this type of service.  I immediately call dear hubby to ask if he’s in any legal trouble I should know about and he seemed eerily calm.  “Must be somebody suing me for money”, was his answer.  Ummm, no, it’s not.  He and I were sued 6 months ago by a collection agency and the sheriff’s office had NOTHING to do with any of that paperwork.  I ended the conversation with a “well, let me know” to which he said “bye” and hung up on me.

My suspicions by this time were sufficiently aroused that I called the sheriff’s office myself.  The kind lady who answered the phone said that all type’s of paperwork were served in that way and it could be anything from:

  • Warrants of search and/or siezure.
  • Summonses to appear in court.
  • Orders of eviction.
  • Orders of surrender of property.
  • Orders of quarantine.
  • Orders to vacate.
  • Orders to appear.

    Wonder if I will ever find out what’s really going on.

    Bad Dream

    My truck was on fire, underneath.  I looked over at dear hubby, who had been driving, as he calmly got out and left us alone.  I quickly unloaded the baby and set her far away from the flames.  I hurried to the back of the vehicle and started to unload a mountain of stuff.  We had obviously been somewhere because there was a LOT of stuff.  I moved quickly and efficiently, all the while keeping an eye on the baby, who was sitting and babbling happily.  The flames took over more and more of the vehicle as I quickly unloaded the final box and stepped away from the now completely engulfed inferno.  I picked up my daughter, only to realize that I had left my purse on the floor in the front and my daughter’s car seat and diaper bag on the floor in the middle.  I felt the burning heat of shame flush on my cheeks as I thought of how angry dear hubby would be at my stupidity.  My debit card, checkbook, social security cards, health insurance cards…I carry it all with me.  I stood there and thought of how stupid I was…and then it dawned on me.  If dear hubby had been helping me unload, like he should of been, I would have had a chance to grab those important things.  He had disappeared just like he always does when there is work to be done.

    I woke up with a throbbing headache.  I desperately wish I could wake up from my life and find that it’s all been as bad a dream as this one.