I Only Want To Get Better For Her....

   I am currently in a situation where my living expenses are covered by my soon-to-be-ex husband. I went through some thing while I was in the military. I was completely ****** up from this. And he treated me like garbage for the following 3+ years.... In this time frame I almost never left the house. When I did I could only go with him.

   When he met me, I was so independent, that he often felt threatened by it. So, my change in personality and living, was beyond drastic. I did not have any friends and had no desire to have any in the future. I only left the couch to cook and clean for him. He had a very violent temper and took his anger out on a regular basis. Part of this was, because I wouldn't let him touch me. However, I believe it had more to do with the fact, that he too, was suffering from PTSD (he was military too). I didn't realize that I was broken... I believed everything was my fault. He let me believe that because he felt the same way. He never even suggested to me, to seek counseling. To the contrary, he seemed to have liked having complete control over my daily life. He told me what to wear, how to do my hair, everything. I let him, I just wanted him to love me again. So, this went on for about 8-10 months or so.


   At some point, in between we were re-stationed. I had, at this point, stopped caring. Between screaming matches that had him throwing things at me, or him breaking down doors because I tried to leave him, I died inside. I stopped cooking, cleaning... bathing. I never left the couch except to eat, use the bathroom, or occasionally shower. I just wanted to die. I made several suicide attempts, via bottles of pills and alcohol. My body either rejected them on their own and I vomited them back up, or my dear, dear husband who made me not want to live, would refused to let me die, and he would shove his fingers down my throat to induce vomiting. Even then, he never once suggested counseling, he never once even ASKED if I wanted to talk about it. He didn't really care. This went on for another 6-8 months or so.


   Then, my mother told me she had a brain tumor, I went home, having not seen her for a nearly 2 years. I stayed for about a month. After, telling my husband, BEFORE I had left "our home", that I decided to do this. I drove back with the remainder of my belongings in a U-Haul truck (I REALLY hate to drive!). After being at home, I was tentatively, hopeful that upon my return, we might have a fresh start. However, when I returned, he announced he wanted a divorce. (Something which the bastard could have mentioned BEFORE I spent the last of my savings, {My I'm going to leave him one day fund, if you will} to get there and back.) At this point, I could no longer take care of myself. I could no longer cope with life in and of it's self. I couldn't return home, my mum couldn't take care of me, I refused to be a burden on her with everything she had going on. After a hour of questioning, as to why, he admitted that he had cheated on me... I sobbed uncontrollably, and begged him on my knees outside in my front yard for him not to leave me. "How would I live?!" , "How will I get home?!" "Who will take care of me?!" "Who could want me now?!". These questions raged in my heart. After, I suggested an open marriage, being as I was desperate.. and still had no desire what-so-ever to be touched by him, he decided we could stay together. The "Me" that I was before, would have been disgusted with the "thing" that I had become. But, I give myself a pass. With everything that happened to me, with everything I went through, with everything he did to make me this way, I get a pass.

   Things were still awful. I was more of a husk than a human being at this point... I tried to save money from my "allowance". Wanting to rebuild the money I had previously spent. Around the same time, the following year, my brother died. My grandfather paid for me to get home, because my husband wouldn't, and I had, as of yet to save enough money. So I went home to bury my my brother (also a solider). And even STILL, foolish creature that I am, once again I'd begun to hope for better days after this separation, as well. When, I came back, he told me he didn't love me anymore. I had to admit to myself, for a long time now, stopped loving him... He agreed that, when he had the money, he would pay to send me home. (I am still here a year later doesn't have it) I tried to get a job, and succeed in some menial fast food position (No offense to others, but I was much too qualified for the position, only too broken for anything better) I only lasted 4 months, before I couldn't handle it, and I put my two weeks in. I haven't worked since. He still lives in the same house as me (seperate rooms of course), he dates, ect. He also, pays a stipend that is the normal "allowance", I've had before. He has "Found God" and does these things to make ammends... I don't think he is wrong to do so... "You broke it, you bought it", as they say.


   I'm currently seeing a therapist. She really isn't much help. She offers techniques and exercises, that I had been aware of and had already put into practice in the past. Instead, I myself have just been forcing myself to my limits. I usually end up vomiting (afterward), but I have begun initiating conversations and leaving the house for NON-essential purchases. I still get panic attacks in crowds, or if a male gets too close to me, or if I am touched accidentally. But, I continue onwards.

   I am trying to cope. Not because I want to live "normally", or even just live over much. But for my mother. I love her more than anyone in the world. While, I didn't have the greatest childhood, she's the only mum I've got. So, after all SHE has been through, the tumor (which has become an even greater issue as of late), her son, and life's everyday difficulties, I have to try to live, and I have to try to get better. For her.
Yellowfitzme Yellowfitzme
26-30, F
1 Response May 24, 2012

I am so sorry your husband did this to you...