I have started reading the Pslams a bit more lately and found there is a lot more to my story. I am writing this with a little fear in my heart, but I am not letting fear control me anymore. There was quite a manuscript written once about my married life, my psychologist has it now. She asked me why I stayed. I replied in one word, “FEAR”.
I count myself lucky that I have been able to get a fresh start in life, finding my slate wiped clean in a new life. I truly consider myself lucky; I have met new people who hold nothing against me.
I left a failed marriage behind me; I left a home and all its belongings behind me; a lot of things I cherished over the years. I had to walk away or curl up and die; there was too much life left to do that.
Actually, I kept silent to long during my marriage, that silence was weighing me down so much sometimes I could barely move with problems so heavy on my heart. My vitality was all gone; it had been for many year. I acknowledge I committed sins during my marriage; I had to survive.
Like so many before, I was in love when I married, but I did not realise there were so many controlling things going on in my life as the marriage progressed. I was well and truly sucked in, and did not know it at the time. But life and children change all perspective on life.
“P” was a very controlling person and things had to go his way or not at all. I gave into him far too often and regret it now. He was good at being sulky and would not talk for days on end at times. Making everyone about him feel guilty as though it was their fault not his. The power increased.
Sometimes to save an argument, the ash tray and stubby holder were on the table waiting for him to come home. I know it sounds weak, but when you need to keep a home with children happy you do these things. You never kept him waiting if you were picking him up from work, but it was okay for him to keep you waiting. No matter what you could not win.
I had to do things in the bedroom that I am not proud of. I cannot go there anymore it is too painful. Sometimes he actually made me feel so sick, I almost vomited after sex at times. The things he wanted were that of what you sometimes see in porn movies. Sometimes I would stand outside the bedroom door, or even stayed up so much later than him before I went to bed. Staying up later than him was easy quite often he went to bed drunk. My mind would race sometimes 24/7. For the life of me when we bought a movie projector, the blue movies started coming into the house, then he would start showing them to his friends and the invention of the video recorder, bought more blue movies into the house. An exchange system with mates from work bought more and more into the house. Personal friends of mine started disappearing tenfold. There was no respect for my feelings at all, it was his right.
He got weirder and weirder all the time and the alcohol was taking over. I did not know how to stop him. I wanted to leave but did not know how, and, at that time of life, there was nowhere to go. There was one day when “P” come into me and told me he had had sex with one of my girlfriends who I used to work with. We had two young children in nappies; I was just supposed to accept what he did and carry on as though nothing had happened. I did not know what to do; there was a power he had that commanded his right. I was told it was experimentation. Nothing was talked about.
I think this was around the time I started drinking, but knew when to stop. I had two young children to care for and love. It is called a mask you put up, so you can hide from reality. I was never an alcoholic. I knew when to stop. I drank to forget, but drinking never solved anything. Life was still there the next day. one foot after another I march through the routine of everyday life hiding behind the 4 walls of my house.
I quite often prayed that he would drink himself silly and go to bed and leave us alone. Yelling and terrifying threats made me a shadow of a person in front of everyone I knew and respected. I actually hope the people who bought my home of old are not haunted by some of the things that went on in that house. I did have a chance, at times, with a bit of passive aggression, I put laxatives in his booze. That felt good. Sometimes I even put paracetamol in his booze that way he would go to bed early. Funny he never picked the laxatives or even the paracetamol.
Something he blocked out of his mind was one time when I was in hospital and I trusted him as a father to care for his daughters properly. Apparently he masturbated in front of one of them; I was not told till years later and never doubted them. When I question him about my illness, he never remembered. But my daughters told exactly of his movement and I knew it was true. They were teenagers at the time of the incident, but adults when I was told. There was not much use of confronting him as it was his word against theirs, and I believe my daughters to this day. My trust in him had completely disappeared; I had wondered why? Where I went the daughters came with me. They closed doors; they never stayed in the house with him on their own.
He even attempted suicide and to this day blames me for it. I never picked up the scissors to cut his wrists. It was a cry for attention and he got it with the police coming to the house. This was a time where I should’ve taken the chance and had him taken away, but never for the life of me dreamed it would happen to me. I just did not know how to handle it. I called the ambulance, but was told to cancel it, I did, but never knew the police would turn up.
As far as “P” was concerned everything that went on in the house was his right. He earned the money leaving me with no rights at all. The pressure of life never let all the juices of my life dried up. There were happy times but they were few and far between. I always knew the circle of trouble would rear it’s ugly head in a couple of days regularly.
To try to put over 3 decades into words is a challenge, almost impossible there was just so much that happened. I put it all down once before and I don’t think I can do it again, but I am going to give it a good shot. I think after 5 posts about my life I would have covered it all, truthfully I have not. I just have to be careful not to repeat myself.
Sometimes a flood gate of tears would open up day after day while he was at work, the times I cried on my neighbours shoulder could not be counted. Gradually there become no hiding place for me; sometimes I used to cry in the toilet and pretend to be sitting. Now I can hear people reading this saying, “Why?” It became harder and harder as the years went on. I believed I was too old to start again, until I did walk. Now that I have started again it gets easier day by day.
I can associate with some much of what is written on Deliberate Donkey and yet when you are going through it all, you believe you are the only one out there going through it all. I was listen to Joyce Meyers the other day describe her father, that was my life as an Adult, my bruises a lot of them were on the inside. There were threats, and hits. For almost every day I was married when you are called, stupid, as useless as a c**** full of cold water, or f*****ing useless you believe it. It gets harder and harder to escape, but now as days go by life is so much better. There was nowhere to turn now I have a clean slate and I am happy living with my dogs on my own.
Something I have grown to believe is, and I knew it a long time ago but never admitted it, while he never asks for help or salvation he will die a bitter man. Now karma has come around and bit the donkey on his tail. I have since heard he has been removed from a Salvation Army home for being too messy and had to find other accommodations. I don’t know where and don’t care. Better than any court case or arrest can do or any charges laid.
I on the other hand have had help and now my heart is lighter and I walk tall. My children are happy in their lives too.