In my counseling session today, my counselor was asking really tough questions and I honestly felt like she was saying I need to leave, but I don't have enough faith. I don't think that was her intention...she was really pushing me to see the truth, but it left me rattled and a bit frustrated.
Unless you've been in an abusive marriage, particularly as a mostly stay-at-home mom with young children, I suppose it's hard to understand how my brain has to work. But there are some things I wish everyone around me could know and understand.
1. I feel tremendous shame both related to my marriage and my husband's behavior. My mom once asked me why I went to such lengths to hide his behavior from others. Well, for starters, it can't help but reflect back on me because I'm married to him. At some point, dumb and deluded and also under tremendous pressure to "be married", I made that choice. I wish there was a stronger word than regret; if there was, I'd use it. Also, when people witness toxic behavior like my husband's, they tend to withdraw from both the husband and the wife, leaving the wife and kids even more isolated. And finally, when the man is a primary wage earner, outside perception of him can lead to not being able to pay the mortgage...and even more instability. So it's a tenuous balance of surviving life, but also surviving the marriage.
2. I still on some level believe this is all my fault, and it could all be fixed if I was "better." A better what? Wife, mom, wage earner, housekeeper...you name it, I've been shamed for it. Even with many voices speaking otherwise into my life, the sum of my days comes down to doing things that I think will make him happy. The alternative is vicious rage and anger, and no one wants to provoke that. This is tremendously common in emotional abuse; even when the victim has detached from responsibility on an intellectual level, her emotions are still captive.
3. I'm both relieved that other people know, and also anxious. I'm still glad when people at church speak to him and include him, even if they know the whole story. Part of me still hopes that the right people can speak truth into him. I do notice when my friends put their personal feelings aside and include him because, for now, he's still linked with me.
4. My kids both love and hate him. If he vanished from our lives completely, I would feel nothing but relief. But the kids would mourn. They would also be relieved. But either way, my kids lose...and that SUCKS.
5. Everything I do is hard. Making counseling appointments means arranging childcare and also anticipating when he won't be there to interfere. Committing to meetings during hours when he's home means fighting a battle...maybe for days. I almost never go out with friends because he heaps so much guilt on me, and I worry about my kids being alone with him. So if I show up without a hostess gift, I'm sorry. Showing up is all I can do some days. And some days, I can't even do that. Sometimes I stay home because it's too exhausting to worry and fight.
6. I have zero confidence in myself or my decision-making ability. I have been criticized for talking too loud and too quietly. My jokes have been mocked. My intention has been questioned. I am no longer parenting...I am trying to raise kids without making their father mad. When I make a decision that goes against what I know he wants - and I have to do that often - I literally have panic attacks for days. God has been faithful to sustain and protect me when I've stepped out and obeyed him, but I've still been subjected to the angry tirades.
7. The logistics of leaving are astronomical. Where will I live? How will I afford it? How will I afford the move and what will he do if he knows about it beforehand? Will I be able to live in a safe place? Will my family have any privacy? Will a judge believe me when I tell why I left? Will a custody trial protect my kids? What damage will my husband do during the one-year separation period? To my credit? To my reputation? To my life? How do I begin separating finances in a way that protects me? How do I hide money away? What will we do for insurance? Will I always be afraid that he'll come back and find us? In the absence of any clear next steps, I typically retreat back to pretending this will be OK and I can totally survive this until my kids are old enough to refuse to live with him.
8. I have been treated so badly for so long that I have trouble recognizing the difference between healthy and unhealthy behavior. Literally, someone had to tell me that what I was experiencing wasn't normal and I SHOULD be angry before the blinders began to come off.
9. I am angry and kind of bitter. I don't want to be. I'm trying hard to forgive and hand that responsibility off to God, but over time, the rage has definitely built up. So sometimes I find myself being short-tempered and irritable because I'm anxious about what he's going to do...and that shakes my confidence further. Maybe I am an awful person and this is what I deserve.
10. I feel like a burden. Don't assume that no news is good news. In the last week, I've considered sending SOS texts to several people, but held back because I'm sure they're tired of hearing about it and wondering why I don't just DO something. I would if I knew of something I could do.
11. Finding options is basically a full-time job. Calling shelters, talking to lawyers...even counseling takes a heap of time. I have other responsibilities, so I don't know how to speed this up. I don't know where to start.
12. It's super hard to wait on God's guidance...and even more so when everyone else feels like the answer is obvious. Please be patient with me. Rushing into things got me into this mess, and I don't want to make that mistake again.
13. I am tremendously grateful for each and every person who has received my truth without judgement, prayed for me, supported me, and spoken truth over me. So many women in abusive marriages are treated worse by the community around them than they are by their husbands. My people have been...wonderful. There's just only so much other people can do.
