My Verbally Abusive Marriage

Connie struggles to live with her husband who constantly confuses her with his words and actions. He has not physically abused her at this point, but many people do not know that blocking doors, grabbing arms, and pushing is physical violence. He verbally, mentally and emotionally abuses Connie almost daily.

She’s been with him a very long time and still cannot seem to “find her place” in the relationship. She describes her feelings about living this way as being fearful, belittled, depressed and confused.

Connie wrote much more, and you can read her story here: Connie’s Story of Abuse.

When you finish, please add your comments and encouragement to Connie in the comments below.

Share your story at Break the Silence.

I’m writing my blog on healthyplace.com about “trust” and found a picture page on this website that I’d forgotten existed.

[Did anyone else just hear the song "Picture pages, picture pages, time to get your picture pages, time to get your crayons and your pencils..." Bill Cosby, I think. Anyway...]

I drew some pictures in the beginning of my marriage that, in hindsight, are very revealing.

There are photos on this page too. Just scroll down a little to see the art: Less Than I Am Photo Gallery

My brain muddles when I wish it were clear. I want time, more time, more time…but for what?

This pessimistic vibe infiltrating my outlook feels controlling and mean. I see visions of failure where visions of success once played.

I feel forsaken when I’m cared for and lost although I’ve been found.

I think of my sister, the one who laughs and plays, always looking to today and beyond. Not worried. Encouraging.

I want to tell her, “It’s impossible; what you say is untrue.” I do not believe in joy these days.

Happiness is only a dangling carrot. The hologram of a dangling carrot. It’s not okay. I’m not all right. The “good” I’ve done or experienced feels like fraud.

You know, twice last week I allowed thoughts of death to plod along in my mind to the point of thinking that “not being here” would be the best thing for me.

But I see my children’s faces in my mind’s eye and I know it would never be the same for them. It wouldn’t be the best thing for them.

Would it?

I couldn’t leave them here to experience the pain of this world alone.

I feel like I’m a horribly nasty, mean, rude person who hides it well.

I’m hating myself. It’s been going on like this for a couple of weeks.

Please, God, angels, LIFE…please give me a sign that everything is, in fact, going to work out. Something. Anything. I’m begging you.

Please show me the way out of this lie.

I am so excited!

A woman who is in the process of leaving her abusive husband decided to blog her story here on My Verbally Abusive Marriage!

She’ll go by the name RedVelvetRiches, and will post as often (or infrequently) as she likes.

Welcome to the blog, RedVelvetRiches. Thank you so much for your willingness to help.

Have you been given bad advice by a member of the clergy? Did you feel blamed for the abuse in your relationship instead of helped? Have you been told to carry the water and serve the one who abused you?

If so, then you know that some clergy must be better educated about the dynamics of abuse.

Doug and Cindy Burrell’s ministry is about to take a giant, positive leap forward. They are speaking at a church about the harm done to abuse victims by clergy attempting to follow “God’s Word” but overlooking key scriptures in support of ending abuse.

Your experience will benefit their ministry and change someone’s life for the better.

If you would like to be a part of the story and positively impact the ways in which the church counsels domestic abuse victims, please contact them via the form at Cindy Burrell’s website, Hurt By Love.

Your anonymity will be protected.

Not too tired to care
The pain in my chest comes and goes
The pain in my heart is always there
But I’m just too tired to cry

The days turn into weeks
The weeks turn into months
The months turn into years
And still, I’m too tired to cry

Exhausted from the fear
Worry that never sleeps
Haunting memories
I’m too tired to cry

Sorrow, like a knife
It reaches deep within me
Death, whispers my name
I weep

~Anonymous

Anonymous suffered domestic abuse up until she left her abuser a few years ago, yet she wrote this poem only days ago.

The effects of domestic abuse embed themselves into our hearts and can carry far into our futures.

Please pray for current and previous abuse victims that their unseen wounds heal and they find the power to detach from abuse and the memories of it.

Une Vie, a new blog, stands on the threshold of liberating its writer and many others who care to follow her story of abuse. The writer contacted me to let me know she identified the issues in her marriage as abusive and is ready to do something about it. I’m so excited for her!

Running From Abuse is another new blog in which our heroine fights for her independence from an abusive relationship. Her story inspires courage against the odds and is well-worth reading.

Please read and comment and share the links to their blogs on your networks.

On January 22, 2012, it will be two years since I left my marriage. I’ve come so far since then; I did the right thing for my children and myself.

I’m having some “issues” today that I was going to discuss in this entry. But before I did that, I went back and took a look at the two entries that changed the meaning of this blog forever.

Today, I am fortunate to write “My Verbally Abusive Marriage…and what I’m doing in it” from a different perspective. The marriage was abusive, but it no longer exists. What I write now concerns how I’m moving past it and the abuse, and I am joyful that I am no longer “in it”.

On January 22, 2010, I left my home two times. The first time was the (what had become) the usual, run of the mill event: I left because I was scared, planning to return home after his temper had cooled or he had passed out. I took a blanket and my purse.  I left again only minutes after typing the last “Smack” in My Heart is Failing.

When I returned home, all hell broke loose. I ended up calling the police, but I had no showing bruises, so the cops would not remove him from the home (worthless!). I left because I truly feared what would happen after they pulled out of the driveway and left me alone with Will. Continue reading

There are agencies designed to help victims of domestic violence when they’re ready to leave the abusive relationship. Those same agencies may counsel victims of domestic abuse who are not yet ready to leave, but need support and information as they try to salvage their relationships. If you have access to those groups, then please use them. They’re free to you and have their fingers on all the resources available to you in your community.

Nevertheless, some victims of domestic violence do not or cannot access those services. And still others discover that although they’re plugged into community resources, they still feel hopeless, helpless, angry and scared.

I’ve been there. In the end, it boiled down to finding my voice (and drowning out his). I learned how to do it, and I can show you how to do it too.

It won’t take long to deliver the information; in fact, you’ve probably seen it on the free literature in your community. Yet actually taking the time to work through the emotionally draining steps can seem like too much when you’re carrying the weight of your and his worlds on your shoulders. I will help you go through the process safely and as serenely as possible.

I understand your trepidation – this process doesn’t have to end with you leaving your marriage or relationship – you decide when or if you leave that important facet of your life behind. I’ll support you either way.

The fee is $60 for two hours of mentoring via phone. If you’re interested, contact me and I’ll guide you.

Contact Me

How was your Thanksgiving? Mine was great, minus the turkey dinner, minus my kids. I did have my boys with me Thursday morning. We ate strawberry shortcakes and drank coffee. I got them caffeinated and sugared up for the day at their dad’s house! I just can’t figure out why that man doesn’t love me anymore.

Just kidding. I know why he doesn’t love me. He’s found my replacement. I’m thankful for that.

I’m also thankful for the sausage gravy and biscuits, the call from my sister, and, perhaps mostly, Max’s company.