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December 13, 2000
My eyes are starting to open after many years with my husband. I am in a abusive relationship and I want out. My husband has a temper and while he has never touched me he has smashed things in our home. We met when I was twenty one and I had moved back home after my financial aid ran out at college. My parents were in the midst of a very ugly divorce and me and my sister were caught in the middle. I met my husband one night when I went dancing, he was very sweet and charming we seemed to hit it off immediately; about six months later we moved in together and after a few years got married. The signs were all there, but I didn't see them. I ignored the remarks about my friends, my clothes, my hair or makeup. I took his side when he ruined a great friendship by giving her number to a jerk at his work. I believed him when he called me a slob and asked me how could I take care of kids - when I couldn't even keep a house clean. I did almost nothing when he called our daughter a "little s%^t" for being a child ( a fact I am still ashamed of).
I am still here but I am planning on
leaving. I am using this quiet period in his cycle of temper
tantrums to find a therapist and gather all the information I need so
when I leave I can do so with my head held high. No matter what he says,
I won't be induced into coming back. We have three daughters and I
cry at the thought of them having to go through what I have.
The other day my oldest asked me, "Why
is daddy so mean to you?" What do you say to that? I really don't
know; it broke my heart. Life is too short for this. Nobody should
dread their husband coming home; live for the good time; constantly have
their radar up in tune for the signs of the next blow out. It is no way
to live. No one should have to live wondering if he is going to
finally hit you instead of the knick knack on the table. It is no
way to live a life. Dianne
Ouchhh! No, this is no way to live a life. You sound clear as a bell and have a good plan. I wish you the very best courageous lady. Dr. Irene |
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