I have been on this forum for over a month now and I just now have the courage to write down the aftermath of my journey. I know there are things I will leave out but I will try to make it to the point and show all the "high" points of the relationship.
2001, I am a junior in college and enjoying every minute of it. Then, that fateful day during spring break-HE walks in to my life and nothing was ever the same. Funny how fate works, I wasn't even supposed to be at work that day. A week later, he comes to my college town and takes me out. FUN FUN FUN! I had never had so much fun in my life! He's 6 years older (still hanging in a college town-light bulb #1) and just seems like he's got it all together. I remember one time my roommate and I getting ready to go out and he had me on the phone saying that I needed to stay in and study. It was summer school and a Thurs night...all the kids go out on Thurs night. He kept me on the phone until midnight before my roommate finally had enough and told him we were leaving. Should have been another clue. The next day after that, I got my first brow beating for not listening to him. Wow, maybe he was right. I should have stayed in.
Fast forward to August...just 5 months after we met. He wants to marry me. I resist and he keeps pressuring me. I finally give in...I am 22 and it seems like it will be ok. He asks my father and everything "proper" happens. I've only met his family a couple times...his mommy and sissy didn't really approve of their baby getting in so deep with me. So, we get married a few days before my fall semester starts. My father told me after my divorce that the moment we walked out as a married couple from the ceremony, he took my father aside and said, "She's mine now." My father never told me and my father said his bones shook after he heard that. My father said in his eyes there was no soul.
The very 1st wk of the marriage was absolutely crazy. All of a sudden, I couldn't listen to Britney Spears, pop music, pop country or anything. I had to listen to what he approved of. I started scratching my head. He threw away my CDs and replaced them with his....cheatin', drinkin', country songs. Don't get me wrong, I was the type that loved all sorts of music and I barely stood up for myself thinking that what he said, "You need to grow up" was indeed correct.
The college town I attended was about an hour from home and where he worked. He went home everyday and his mommy fed him and his sissy kept telling him that I needed a job. They have been a thorn in my side for 9 years now. He never came home. Ever! He always had an excuse for staying out late or not getting back to the college town until the wee hours of the morning. Within the first month of the marriage he had scheduled me an appointment with a counselor to "fix me." Wow, I didn't know anything was wrong with me. So I went, I had never been to a counselor and she asked why I was there. "To fix me, of course. He told me I needed to be fixed, that something was wrong with me. I'm not a good wife, I'm not a good cook, I listen to the "wrong" music." She stared puzzled. She asked me all sorts of questions and one was if he drank. Yes, he drank...he was 28 and always had his buddies visiting the college town to go out and drink. Ultimately, she said-and I still hear the words, "Dear, you are NOT the problem. He is. And I will tell you that he will either pick the drinking or his family or both and not you. And if by some miracle he does pick you, you will quite possibly kill yourself." WOW! Looking back, she was giving me permission to leave the relationship but at 22 I didn't know anything other than to "make the relationship work."
Things happened and eventually I had my fill of his late nights and coming home smelling like a brewery. I called him at 11pm one night and he was still down at home and he said he was on his way back up to me. Mind you, it takes 45 min to get back. He didn't show up until 5am. I threw all his clothes over the balcony of my tiny apartment and told him to leave. He left and I cried. Of course, it was my fault. He didn't want to come home to a "not good wife." We were separated for a month. Him living with mommy. I was scared, I didn't know what to do. So, I went out and had a good, much needed girl time with my girlfriends. He must have had a nose to know I wasn't going to be moping at home. He called that night and left nasty messages on the answering machine. The next morning I had an email telling me how infantile I was and I was causing us not to get back on track together. He would not tolerate my behavior. I had to drop several classes because my head was spinning over emotions and just the fear of losing him and being with him at the same time.
I finally graduate college. That's when the hatred and more abuse started. I couldn't find a job right out of college and he seemed ok with it. Then, in our little 900sqft apartment, he wanted me to get up at 5am with him, cook him breakfast, and start cleaning. I was to clean from 5am until he came home from work. I was to work just as hard as him. I made sure the vacuum lines were on the carpet so it would look like I had been working so hard for 12 hours. I made sure dust was nowhere to be found. That only lasted for a couple days. It wasn't enough. I couldn't keep him happy with the amount of cleaning or work ethic I had. He never had anything nice to say. He threw tobacco cans at me when he was mad bruising my legs all up and down when I tried to stick up for myself.
Then, he took a job that required him to work overseas. Gee, I missed him for 4-6 wks at a time. He would call and it would be wonderful. Then, it was him calling from the other side of the world to see if I was vacuuming. If I had gone to see his mother, if I had used bleach on the sink, if I was spending all of "his" money. I hated to get the calls and I ignored them. He would come home and not want to have sex. In my head thinking, "OK, you've been gone from your wife for over a month and you don't want to have sex with me?" I felt rejected. But he kept on going about his business.
Fast forward 6 months...that's how long we were in the apartment before he wanted to build a house....a house far, far away from my parents (whom he loathed and thought were trash...and I was trash. We (my parents home) lived on the wrong side of the major freeway...the "trashy" side) and he wanted to be as far away from them as possible. So, he signs a contract for a piece of land and moves me into his mother's house (yikes). I desperately plead for us to just keep the apartment while we build and he has none of it. I knew it was going to be bad. We move in to his mother's house and he leaves out of the country the first week we're there. I had actually found a job and it was close to my parent's home. So, while he was gone I would stay at my parent's house. His mother didn't like that. I couldn't be watched and accounted for. So, the phone calls began..."why aren't you at the house, my mom needs you to peel wallpaper, cut the grass, my sister needs you to watch her kids..." Mind you, these people are not destitute and can help themselves or quite frankly afford to pay someone. Well, they offered to pay me ($5/hr) to do their dirty work. So it began. The mother tattled on me when I wasn't at her house. So, one day I decide to go over there before my shift at work and email my NH because my "trashy" parents didn't have internet. When I get there she isn't there. I get on her computer and something pops up...she had forgot to clear her messages. So I begin to read...it's from him. He was admitting to her that he had slept with a local on the beach in Brazil. He had a rash and saw there was a condom in his trash can. It went on...and I felt faint. She had responded saying not to tell me and she would get him professional help for his drinking. He basically told her he wanted to jump off the oil rig for what he had done. I email him and tell him I hoped the piece of tail he got in South America was worth it. I move all of my stuff in a matter of 45 minutes in the back of the truck and leave...just when his mother pulls up and asks what's wrong. I couldn't believe her face and the lie in her eyes. She knew exactly what was going on. Not to mention...I had found emails to his old gf from his mother saying that she wished she would have encouraged the old gf to stay with him because she never saw me. Many, many emails between the both of them. And the old gf would appear many times while I was there...how embarrassing.
Anyway-I take him back after his infidelity...he said he would change, he would stop drinking...yada yada yada. Basically, he didn't want to lose "his" house that I was working on while he was out of the country. So...we go to counseling but somehow it always got twisted around that because I wasn't a good wife that was why he cheated?? I was always in a state of confusion. During this phase, we ended up at my parent's extra home to live in. Many times he kicked me with steel toe boots because he felt I wasn't forgiving him in the timely manner he thought. I wasn't giving him enough sex because of what he did and it was affecting his job performance! Crazy! I lied about the bruises to everyone but I thought I deserved them. I went to see my pastor who, like all other counselors, saw right through my ex and his schemes. I lied and lied and kept everything in, but outwardly it was showing that I was fading. I wasn't the same person anymore.
House finished and we move in. I find out I'm pregnant. The very day I took the test, he said nothing. The day I went to the first appointment, he saw the conception date and had the nerve to say he wasn't in town when that happened. I was devastated...how could he say that. I had never given him any reason to think I would ever cheat on him. I quit my job because it is 60 miles away and 65 miles away from my parent's house. He tells me it's better that I just stay home and get the house organized and save money on fuel because he makes so much money. I will never forget, the Friends Finale was on and I had waited to see it. I was unpacking boxes and watching at the same time. Then 15 minutes before the show ends, he walks in front of the tv and turns it off. Tells me to get busy. I turn it back on and he turns it off...like a child he tells me it hurts his feelings that I won't talk to him while the show is on. I miss the show arguing that I am an adult and can watch tv when I want. He throws me over his shoulder and throws me out the front door in the mud and rain and says to get out of HIS house. I was 6wks pregnant. I should have left then. I manage to get back in the house and hide in a spare room. Call my parents who are furious, but I fend off my father and say that it was my fault. My parents can't believe what they hear me say. Well, the house cleaning OCD continues on his part and I never know when he will be coming home from work or which personality will show up. I am 7 months pregnant and tired and he finally shows up from work late in the evening (with no call, mind you) so I heat up some left overs. Wrong thing to do. I wait on him hand and foot while he surfs through channels. I finally sit down on another couch and read a magazine. He throws the food on the floor and screams at me that he could have stopped at a fast food place rather than see the poor effort I put into feeding him. He tells me to stop reading the magazine and go in another room. Well, I was fine on the couch and he gets in my face like a rabid dog slobbering all over me with his finger pointing at my nose. I finally leave the room and he has the nerve to tell me that he thinks I need to go out the next day and get a full time job...at 7 months pregnant. That was the end...I moved out the next day without him knowing and file for divorce...not knowing that I can't get one while pregnant.
I never hear from him until the baby's due date gets closer, I'm sure because his mommy and sissy are insisting. Baby is finally born and I take her home to my parent's with me. He has the nerve to punch a wall because I am "stealing" his kid. 4 months later, I'm sucked back into "his" house because I feel like I can't make it financially and that the baby "needs" a father. Doesn't work out too well. He never lifted a hand to change a diaper and sleeps through just about everything and I am a complete disaster and tired. But...he still expects that 5am wake up call, breakfast to his liking and a pat on the ass out the door because he is out there "making money and pulling all the weight." The dude makes $150k and takes clients to eat all day long! He checks the mileage on my car daily to see that I've been driving 14 miles. To go get 2 tacos at a local restaurant for .99c and my favorite drink. Boy...that is making us go bankrupt. I am not allowed to go get my 2 tacos or my drink anymore and he hides my keys! I have a newborn and he takes my keys and I am 30 miles from the nearest walmart and hospital! The cleaning frenzy continues where he comes home and swipes his finger on every piece of furniture. I'm not cleaning enough...he can smell it...it doesn't smell like things have been done today. I can never measure up to being Holly Homemaker. I finally decide to take kleenex and put lysol on them and hide them behind picture frames so the smell of cleanliness was there. By this time, he still wasn't coming home and sometimes didn't. I was sleeping in the spare room with the baby and at 4pm everyday I would have diarrhea knowing he could be on his way home. And again around 11pm. Usually he saw my bathroom habits and would come "check" on me...he hated locked doors. He told me he hoped I had cancer and I needed to get off the toilet. I guess I couldn't poop when I needed to. He started to get overly picky on food, my bathroom habits, the way my hair looked, made fun of my body, told me I was nothing but a sponge off of his hard work and house.
The final straw was him yelling at me and my 2 year old hiding under the kitchen table. He didn't like a drawer in the kitchen that had all of my paper, pens ect and ripped the drawer and scattered the stuff and told me to clean it up. I had no friends and the ones I had, he had alienated me so far away from everyone. My parents had to sneak over during the day and hope to God they didn't get caught. He would call me on my cell phone from work and then use his office phone to call the house to try and hear if it rang...to see where I was. If I wasn't at home, all hell broke loose. I was living in fear and I had open sores in my mouth, my gut and I absolutely looked like those people who have been involved in an exorcism. I looked like death and I felt it. He finally decided he wanted a divorce after several nights of not coming home at all. I took him up on it.
It's been almost 3 years since we split and I still feel like a beat puppy. But the funny thing is...I don't look like an exorcism...I think it happened the day I moved out of that house. The color came back to my face, the sores in my mouth disappeared, I didn't have diarrhea (well, that took a couple months), and I looked healthy. He was the evil that was taking over my body, mind and soul. I still have fear when I hear a diesel engine behind me and sometimes I have a feeling when my parents come home that I "haven't done enough" at the house and begin to scrub fervently toilets and counters and the like. I am 31 and starting my life all over again. I am scared, scarred, healing, crying, tortured and feel like a failure to my daughter.
I see him manipulating her the same ways he did me...and continues to do me. I feel like his hold on me will never end. I may not be living there, but he still finds ways to control.
In the end, remember the old gf that his mommy loved so dearly? Well, they got engaged after 12 years of knowing each other...she waited 7yrs for him to get a divorce from me and now they're going to live happily ever after. Why didn't he just marry her to begin with?
This torments me now and I have days (like today) where I wonder why. I call myself Davy Jones (from the Pirates series) because I know Davy's pain. To love (or to think I loved) someone so much, and your heart can't bear the pain. So much that I could cut out my own heart just to get rid of the pain. I know he never loved me, but he made me think he did and I gave everything I had in myself to him only to be shit on, lied to, cheated on and thrown away like a piece of garbage. Now, the old gf gets the best of him...I see him doing things for her, buying things, she gets the part that I should have gotten...why wasn't I good enough?