Love Isn't Supposed to Hurt

“I HATE YOU!” My heart rates accelerating with each childlike shriek and I remind myself this is temporary, and exhale any negative feelings for a whole 4 seconds. 5 minutes later I hear myself say “You don’t know what you're talking about!” And instantly; the shame that washes over me is bittersweet; a terrible feeling but affirmation that I still have emotions at all.

A week ago; maybe two, my family imploded in one angry evening. Let’s reiterate, that statement implies that the family was whole in the first place; and truly, the realization that your marriage and over half your life had been ultimately the world’s cruelest sick joke. My brain flashes with memories of instances I hadn’t remembered in years; instances that would have been divorce defining and for me, it was just a Tuesday morning. All these emotions I have pushed back for years flood back in a wave of disgust and shame.

HOW DID I LET THIS HAPPEN?

It was easy, so easy I can’t pinpoint when it “turned” but according to my 7- year-old, it happened right after my son was born. I’ve never been an angry person, in fact; I am pretty annoyingly “glass half full” but right now my anger is ANGRY. Meditation, self-help books, daily affirmations, I’m trying it ALL.

When most people think of emotional abuse, we imagine “You’re so stupid!” But just like the dangerous perception that abuse must be physical, we are allowing more and more women to be victimized. Emotional abuse can include; someone constantly criticizing you, gas-lighting, deflection, and to me the most common was mind games. Just like watching a cat play with a helpless mouse; it’s fun, that mouse is a toy. My kids and I were mice; their father and my husband the cat.

Now, was I the perfect wife? Absolutely not. However, in arguments (generally about some illegal, schemey, or insulting thing he said or even better another lie told) he would shut the fuck down; or allow my child to be mean to my daughter and me, or rather encourage it. In retrospect, I can understand logically this was a technique of grooming; but the thought of me not being able to compartmentalize my emotions enough to see it keeps me up at night.

In the end, all they are old enough to understand is that dad would do nothing wrong and that I would yell at him and kick him out. They don’t understand that I had been belittled for two days, accused of cheating, put down for buying toilet paper, or asking to not hide money from me or duel it out to me when I pay the majority of the bills.

His propensity to stay so calculated always surprised me. How can he stay so calm right now when I feel like my entire life’s falling apart? I mistook sociopathy for emotional maturity that I of course lacked because really, I lacked everything to him. I mistakenly accepted abuse and considered it love. I know I am not the only one, and without the help of some good writings; I would have done this until I went absolutely batshit or killed myself. I would be lying if I said that was an exaggeration and anyone in this situation would understand this statement instantly. This is the abuse that causes the victim to inflict their own physical abuse, the type of mental hell you can’t imagine.

If reading my story saves one person from the true monsters in this world, then I did my part.

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