Domestic Violence Problems
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Gnawing Hurt-My Reality Counts For Something. Right?
My reality counts for something. Right? It was agony. Maybe it was agony because I was hurting ALONE. Just like now, I alone hurt for this marriage, for my husband, for my children, and for me. He doesn’t hurt because he doesn’t believe the problem is abuse. He thinks it is me.
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What Is Real?
How do people know when they’re being authentic? How do people overcome fear? How can I be sure the verbal abuse is real? Why is it so hard to believe?
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He Will Hurt Me, So I Stay? Makes No Sense. This is a Mind Fuck.
On the other hand, it is painful and hard for me to remember that he would, could and has hurt me physically – but it’s happened three times now. Nothing that will create a bruise where it will show. Something that he can deny to himself, to me, to anyone. Something that he ultimately blames…
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Bat Shit Crazy is Better Than Abused
Will deployed to Iraq and I’m in our home in North Carolina with our boys. Will doesn’t call or write very often and it’s easy to pretend that I’m alone. I don’t particularly enjoy it when he does call because our conversations are all about the business of being married and the occasional sneak-attack to…
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PTSD and Depression Keep Me Spiraling Downward
PTSD and depression developed during domestic abuse caused visions of my children dying or dead. Fear of life held me tight, but I didn’t understand why.
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Depression Relief, Delusions of Joy
Abuse came before Depression in my marriage, but when my Depression lifted (thanks Prozac) I entered another fantasy world.
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Goals For Me Implanted Through Brainwashing
By 1998, I didn’t even know what I wanted for me anymore. His goals for me became my goals for myself, inserted neat and clean in my mind with brainwashing.
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We Had a Bad Day
First a Note Note from 2012: One of my greatest fears is that my behavior negatively affects my boys. Looking back on this journal entry makes that fear real. I know they’ve felt pain due to my yelling. I don’t always separate my frustrations with my relationship and myself from my frustrations with my children.
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I’m Always Saying Something Stupid
I’d say I was lonely or tired or sad and he would get angry and tell me “You have it so fucking good! You don’t have a damn thing to complain about!”
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