Have you ever wanted something to be true so much, that despite the evidence in front of you, you pretend that it is? Have you ever been so ashamed about the position that you have put yourself in, that you put on a false front, so that no one knows what is really going on? Have you ever been afraid to tell anyone how bad something is, because the consequences of telling could possibly be worse than the circumstances you are currently in?

I wanted to believe that I had a good marriage. I wanted to believe that my husband would/could change. I wanted to believe that my husband was supportive, caring, and respected me. I wanted to believe all of those things so much, that what I showed the world reflected those things rather than reality. The verbal abuse I recently mentioned, is not a new thing in my marriage. It has probably been going on since the very beginning. Same with the controlling behavior. There was even a time a few years ago when we almost divorced over it. Instead we went to marriage counselling. Things seemed to get sort of better, for a while.

The were times when I fought back with my own vicious words. There were times when I told him to leave. There were  times when I cried my heart out. In the end, the same thing always happened. I would let things go, and he would be nicer for a little while. I realize now, that by making it so that he had no real consequences for his actions, I was giving him permission to keep treating me that way. To be honest, it was easier that way.

Over the last year and a half, I have been working to get emotionally and mentally healthy. Almost from the beginning, my efforts to get healthier seemed to cause friction. I would set a boundary – ask my husband to not talk to me a certain way for example – and he would get irritated with me. He seemed to get angrier and more resentful the more I fought for my own mental health. Our time together became filled with angry silences, and angry words. I changed how I responded to verbal attacks, nagging, and controlling behavior. I worked hard to not react the way I used to. I tried to stay calm. I tried to be rational, and show him where his anger was leading him. He seemed to be okay with himself. He had no problem being filled with so much anger. He justified how he spoke to me, and treated me. It felt like while I was changing, he was becoming more and more stuck. I learned that he and my daughter talked about me when I was not around. He told her she did not have to listen to me, she had choices when I asked her to do something. She learned to say mean and degrading things to me. It felt like I was battling both of them.

I wanted so much to believe that I could have the marriage I wanted, that I never told anyone how bad it had gotten. Until that awful night a few weeks ago, when the things that he was saying to me finally caused me to reach my end point, and I reached out to my mother for help. I should have been more honest with myself. I should have been more honest with my family. I should have been more honest with you. I was just not ready to admit to anyone – even myself – that things were so very wrong.