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  1. Hey all :-) I have been busy lately and have released a new book called The Little Book of Self Love. https://goo.gl/rRLJWZ (US Amazon) https://goo.gl/IIAWnX (UK Amazon) https://goo.gl/BOhbxO (AU Amazon) https://goo.gl/qhtCHa (CA Amazon) I thought it would be an awesome idea to create a book on how to help people who have been emotionally hurt, abused or simply need a confidence boost. I'm a great believer in using affirmations to banish negative thoughts, which are especially prevalent for those of us who have experienced abusive relationships. I'm also a designer, so used my skills to create some pretty cool picture affirmations. This little book of love is filled with beautifully created pictures of positive affirmations, and a guide detailing on how to use affirmations. You can also create your own, relevant to your specific situation. Remember, if you can repeat it and see it, then you can be it! If you would like to feel better about yourself, your life, future and relationships or need emotional healing, then this book will help you love yourself again. Download the graphics and use them as your you wish, or flick through them to remind yourself just how incredible you are. I have attached an example of one of the affirmations in my book! Best wishes Naiomi P.S. Please remember that abuse is never your fault.
  2. Hi everyone. I am new here and of course I am here because I am living my own personal hell. I've read through many posts and I can say my situation is not violent (yet?) and maybe in comparison it could be worse. Regardless, I am burnt out and ready for freedom. So, here's the situation at hand... I met my "fiance" in freshman year of high school (1999). We were friends for a while, dated after high school for about a year or two, broke up, didn't talk for 6 or 7 years, then reconnected and started dating again. It was a whirlwind romance that ended up in a pregnancy 10 months into it. Nine (closer to 10) months later my son was born. At this point we had been living together for 2 and a half months. Fast forward 4 years later and here I am. Needless to say, it's been a rocky road. That is the abstract of our relationship. When we dated to first time, it was VERY bad. This included physical abuse. He was verbally abusive, too. He called me terrible, profane names. He destroyed my self esteem and self worth to the point that I felt like I needed him. During our breakup he broke my glasses, my phone, dragged me across his front lawn by my ankle, cornered me in a room and threw a phone at me telling me to call the police. I was petrified on each of these incidents. There were other instances too, but I think that paints a pretty good picture. He never punched me, he kicked me in the stomach once (trying to "kick away" something i was holding, he said). He never threw things at me or beat me with objects. None of that. He would break things around me, mostly my things. He would call my mom and tell her disgusting things about me and our family. He would come to my home in the middle of the night and bang on windows. He had people egg my car. He would harass me online. He posted naked pictures of me on myspace. That's the kind of stuff he did. Once he found someone else to torture, I was set free. I hated him and went on to ignore any communication from him for nearly 7 years. During this time I didn't date anyone else or have intimate relationships with anyone else. I just focused on myself. WHY I would go back to him later in life, you ask? I am an idiot, basically. I had this naive assumption that people grow, learn, and change from life experience. I knew I had. What 20/21 year old really has found themselves yet? At that age you are still a kid and we all make bad choices. We had a lot of history and the idea of that high school sweetheart, fairy tale/story book ending was very appealing to me. I was also at a lonely point in my life, isolated from everyone and from meeting new people my age. I was in my last 2 years of college and in order to keep good grades in a tough university with a difficult major, I did NOTHING but study, go to class, and go to work. Sleep, repeat. I was lonely. So, this time around, we dated for a couple months before the "I love you" started being thrown around. Looking back, I would say it happened pretty fast, but I returned the sentiment. Things were going great. The first red flag was some months in, he started criticizing me about how long it was taking me to graduate college. I was already there for 3 years and still needed another year or two to finish up. This was after 2.5 years at community college, because I changed my degree. Regardless of the defense, it was none of his business. It is my life and my choice and if he didn't see eye to eye with me on it then he could shut up and support me or find the door. I just dismissed it though, at the time. It pissed me off but he is entitled to his opinion, I guess. The next red flag was a few months later. My cat died and I was distraught. This cat was my best friend, my soul mate. Until the birth of my son, I don't think I ever knew love like I did for my cat. He was there for me for 13 years through all the really, REALLY terrible points in my life. We were inseparable. He had been sick for many years with random things that required daily monitoring and medications. All of these illnesses were very manageable, though. I did everything I could for him. When I found out he was terminally ill, I had no idea. I drained my life savings to try to save him. After one week, some blood transfusions, and home injections to keep him comfortable, he died. A piece of me died with him. I still cry regularly for him, even though it is 4 years after he went to heaven. So, the red flag...right. The day after he died, I had to get out of my house and out of this state. I was so numb and ugh...I had to go. We went on vacation out of state. It was already planned before I knew my cat was even sick. Needless to say, I wasn't my normal chipper self. I did NOT smile. My boyfriend didn't appreciate this. He thought my sour puss was embarrassing. He really let me have it, yelling at me and inevitably calling me a "female part". I wanted to catch a flight home ASAP, but couldn't afford it. I suffered through the rest of the trip, planning on breaking-up when we got home. We somewhat "made-up" during the rest of the week-long vacation. When we got home, I didn't feel right. I thought I might be pregnant, so I didn't break-up just yet. Two weeks later a took a test and found out that I was pregnant. I was so excited and scared. We started planning our future. I was very straightforward with him. I still had a year left of college and I fully intended on finishing my degree. Since the baby would be born during my last semester and I wouldn't be able to start my career, I told him I expected him to get a full time job and career to support the baby and I. I wanted to stay home to raise our son until he was able to go to school before I would start my career. I don't see the point in bringing a child into the world that I cannot raise. If I were to work to pay for childcare and someone else to raise my son, then it's just not worth it. My son didn't decide to be here and I was ready to sacrifice my wants for his needs. I was OK with staying at home with my mom, working part time to help out, until I could start my career if my boyfriend wasn't on-board. He promised me this is what he wanted, too. We started looking for a place to live and saving our money. Next red flag: When I was about 7 months pregnant we went to IKEA of buy furniture for our new apartment. As a woman, and a very pregnant one to boot, I had a very big opinion about our furniture style and decor. I was living out my little-girl dreams for the first time. Getting a home, a husband, a baby. I wanted it to be just right. I was stubborn towards his tacky sense of style and flat out said no to most of his picks. Looking back, maybe I should have been more compromising. I just didn't think this kind of stuff mattered that much to a guy. That's a "woman's job", to decorate. Plus, "happy wife, happy life", right? I was just really excited and, again, naive. Well, he FLIPPED out on me in the store parking lot. Yelling and making me feel like a terrible person for what I had done to him. I was 7 months pregnant in a store parking lot in a really bad town, crying. I was a little heart broken afterwards. How could be be so mean? I was being innocently selfish, I think. OH, and it is worthy to note that EVERY penny I made from my job, plus $2,500 from my father was put towards these purchases. I was not spending from his wallet alone. Just saying. Anyhow, we bought our furniture, loaded up the car, and drove home. Decorating our home became bittersweet after that. It felt a little less like home. Next red flag, one month later. Over 8 months pregnant, severe carpal tunnel, painful joints, almost too big of a belly to drive comfortably. I decided it was time to have my OB/GYN sign the maternity leave papers. My boyfriend came to that appointment. The car ride home, out of nowhere, he starts screaming at me that I didn't ask him if it was okay to go on maternity leave. Well, I didn't think I needed his permission. My due date was exactly 4 weeks away at this point and my body HURT. I was so upset and actually screamed back, banging on the dashboard, asking how he could yell at me when I am this pregnant with my first child, I am scared and in pain, I don't deserve this, et cetera and so on. I don't even remember what happened after that, but I do remember that this was the first time after all these red flags that I actually SAW it as a red flag in the moment. There was no excuse for his behavior. He knew i was planning on going on maternity leave at some point, we talked about it. I know he was probably scared and stressed from having to support a family for the first time too, but I am not his verbal punching bag. We should be able to work out problems and fears together as a team, right? I remember sitting at the apartment days later wanting to just go home. Some time after this he proposes to me and I, the fool that I am, say "yes". **Shakes-Head** So from here on out there were verbally abusive outbursts on his behalf every 3 to 4 months. It is like clockwork. Most of which, have been in front of our child. If not in front of our child, our child was (hopefully) asleep in a connecting bedroom. He screamed at me and chased me to the car as I was leaving with our infant to get away from the abuse. He was screaming "this is why I will NEVER marry you". He punched a wall once and thought he broke his hand. He called his mother once on the phone in front of me, looked me dead in the eye as he basically told her how shitty I am and they were both having a conversation about how I am going to be one of those single moms who makes the child's father's life hell. He told me once I deserved to be hit in the face with bricks. He told me he was so angry he was going to hit me in the face with a Rubbermaid tote and instead left the house until 4 am. He threw a dishrag in my face during an argument once when I was holding our son. He likes to follow me around from room to room when I try to walk away from the argument, leaning over pointing in my face calling me horrible names and accusing me of things that aren't even true. He has called me pathetic, a lady dog, a freeloader, to name a few. Basically, I don't say anything when we fight at this point. Anything I say would make it worse, saying nothing makes it bad, and leaving with our son during a fight might be more traumatizing to my son if he were to try to grab him from me or whatever. I just absorb all the negativity until it's over. He ends up going into another room or outside and drinking until 1, 2, 3 am while I cry myself to sleep. The next day after these fights he acts like NOTHING HAPPENED! He doesn't acknowledge it, apologize, or anything. He will kiss me hello, goodbye, and goodnight. He continues to tell me he loves me...like nothing happened. My mind is always blown. Seriously, what the hell planet are we living on. My life as I know it is destroyed and broken from what he said and did the night before, and he is just hunky-dory? Really?! It is unbelievable. Keep in mind, these BIG fights only happen a few times each year. It leaves enough time between each fight for me to kind of heal or grow numb and have the feeling of "well, maybe things will get better, I should stay in this thing". He will be really good for the weeks, sometimes months, following these fights. He will buy me things (mostly food, sometimes flowers), he will magically always have money for food shopping and pay the bills on time. Everything seems really good before it is really bad again. However, even when it is good, he is HYPERCRITICAL of everything I do. I can do NOTHING right. He always has to put in his two cents as to how I should have done something or how I should do something. It can be something as dumb as how I cut an onion to as important as to how to raise our son. It is constant criticism. I have even taken his advice at times and done it exactly the way he said he wanted it, only to be criticized for how it turns out. I cannot win. He makes me feel like a failure every day of my life. He makes sure he tells me (bluntly) "you're an amazing mother". However, he makes me feel like I cannot even do that well. I don't want to paint him as a monster without taking any fault. I have been emotionally and sexually vacant from him for years. When my son was an infant, he worked off the books, no benefits, and smoked A LOT of weed. I felt like I was the only real adult in the house. When baby was finally asleep, I couldn't even have adult conversation with him because he was SO stoned. The conversation didn't even make sense, so why bother? I found ways to entertain myself without his company and was happier that way. I felt like he had some really selfish lifestyle choices. He wouldn't be able to pass a drug test to start a real career with benefits for himself and our son if he kept doing what he was doing. It didn't seem to matter to him. We were on state funded insurance and I felt like a low life. He couldn't file taxes because he had no reportable income. I felt like I was helping him scam the system. I didn't want any part of it. Not to mention I didn't want drugs around my son or home. I don't do that kind of stuff. It would compromise any chance of a career in my field. It's not worth it. Furthermore, I felt like I couldn't depend on him to take care of a delicate newborn or infant because I didn't know if he was high. I didn't want someone who isn't sober changing, bathing, feeding, or holding my baby. I felt so alone and like I was the mother or two babies. I became very resentful and just kind of rude to him on the regular. I eventually told him I do not want drugs at my house at all and he needs to find a real job. I helped him search. He stopped smoking (at least long enough) to get a really good job with benefits for himself and our son. I am still on state insurance because I don't work enough to qualify for obama care. I only work and make enough to pay my own personal bills, money to take care of our son, and a little extra to buy food when he doesn't. So, he did seem to shape up a little bit. He eventually went back to smoking weed regularly at our home. I found it, confronted him and this lead to where I am today: planning my exit from this house. I'll come back to that in a minute. I also tend to hide money from him. He doesn't give me money for anything I need. He is the one usually coming to me asking for help with this bill or that thing. I never felt like I could depend on him. My parents have been more than helpful. They would buy me things I needed, give me cash to stash away. I would file my taxes and get pretty good returns which I could budget out for the year to continue to stay home to raise my son. When we first moved in together, one of the first things I suggested we should do is budget the money. This way we know what is coming in and going out and where we should be at least one month away, financially. He flat out, 100% REFUSED to budget the household income. I was VERY put off by this. I started separating our money because I felt that his way was VERY irresponsible. My way of handling finances has always been very detailed and noted. How could you know what your family needs if you don't keep a budget? I kept my budgeted money to myself, because it wasn't much, and I let him worry about the household bills. This has been the cause of most of our fights. He feels like I am a liar and sneaky. I am just trying to survive. He pisses away money like a teenager with a brand new credit card. I am not trying to ruin my good credit or go bankrupt because he won't budget funds. I am sorry. So, there's that. I know he loves his son and wants good things. I just think that we are different people with different morals, values, and goals. I think even if it weren't for his anger management problems we would have broken-up this family anyway, just based on being incompatible. I know I haven't been the best me I can be throughout this relationship, just as he hasn't been the best him. I am not trying to place the blame solely on him. Also, I am a true introvert. I am a home-body. If I could never leave the house, I wouldn't. I hate going to outings around people. I like being alone. This has caused a lot of strain on our relationship and I fully accept the blame in that department. So, where am I today? Well, back to finding that bong in his work van recently and confronting him. He basically told me we are going to break up in November when our rental lease is over. I cried (very little), felt relieved, then thought about it. I thought maybe we should try couples counseling before giving up, for our son's sake. Two days after the confrontation about the weed, we sat down and had the most normal conversation we ever had, NO YELLING. We decided to try counseling. I tried to explain to him that when he yells at me the way he does, it is very hurtful. He says I hold grudges and I explained that what he says and how he says it really cuts deep and he has damaged my trust for him and I feel like I cannot talk to him about any problem I have in our relationship because I don't know how he will react. I don't want any horrible fights in front of our son. I choose to stay quiet about anything he says and everything I feel because he scares me. He dismissed my concerns by saying he doesn't remember any of these fights or saying anything he has said, and that I am too sensitive. I listened to his concerns and accepted his criticism towards me. I figure it would be dealt with at counselling. Literally two days later, over nothing at all, he starts being nasty again. His face and eyes changed into that evil rage. He started telling me that I have alienated him from his son since he was an infant, not allowing him to feed him his bedtime bottles, and now I won't allow him to fall sleep in his bed (i sleep on the couch x 2 years) while spooning our son at night (until the adult falls asleep, not our son. He expects me to wait until he falls asleep and then put our 4 year old to bed at 10pm), and I am basically a bad mother. He called me mental for being scared of him. It was a short fight and didn't escalate as much as it usually does. He went outside and drank until 1:30 am. I called my mother and sobbed. I decided I want to leave asap. This was memorial day, 5/30/16. My "fiance's" birthday was a few days later, then father's day shortly after. I decided it would be fair to let him have his holidays with his son in our home as a family before telling him I am leaving. I have been slowly moving my things out (things he won't notice) since May 31st. I have made appointments with a custody lawyer, arranged movers and vans, and took off from work in advanced to prepare for the day. I have not told him I am leaving. I plan to not tell him until the day I leave. I am scared how he will react. Will he be relieved it's over? Will he become enraged and physically violent? Will he try to take my son? This is why I am not telling him until the day I am prepared to move myself, my cat, my son, and our belongings out of this house. If he is violent, I want to be prepared to NEVER step foot in this house again. Am I doing the right thing? Am I over-reacting? Should I tell him now instead of the day of? I don't know. I am super stressed out and anxious. I feel terrible for taking his son from him. I feel terrible knowing when the last day he will be here to tuck his son in bed at night comes, and he would have no idea. I feel like a horrible person. I feel like I am lying. What would you do? I'm sorry this is so long and kind of all over the place. There is more that I could say, but this is probably already more than enough. Thank you all for just reading this, even if you don't reply.
  3. You are the tectonic plates: large, strong plates slowly moving in opposing directions supporting the weight of the world. You are the foundation, the ground for me: the busy city above. I am the city. I represent the people, the family, the home. I am so busy repetitiously completing the mundane tasks to allow the people to wake in the morning and rest peacefully at night. The people know they are safe because of all that I do. They have comfortable, neat, inviting homes, delicious meals to eat, and safety from my wing. I am also always adapting to the changes of the people. People grow and mature. Therefore, the needs of my city are ever evolving. I depend only on my foundation to keep me grounded. That is all that I need to keep my city happy and at peace. When the pressure of your grinding plates become too much to bear, you snap. The force is so great, so strong, and so sudden. You are instantaneously relieved. The pressure has vanished. You continue your daily grind to support my city for some time to come. Above ground lies my city in the wake of your quake. We are reduced to rubble. People are crying and distraught. Our homes have crumbled, our safety is gone, and our entire world as we knew it has turned upside down. Some have even died. However, we are a unity. We must rebuild and we will. It will take months to become a functioning city again and just as long to feel safe once again. Our city will always be wary of our foundation from this point forth. The ground had become unpredictable. Our city is built on an active fault line. Your quakes may only happen intermittently, but when the time comes, your quakes are completely devastating. The city will only be willing to rebuild so many times before the people abandon this city to seek refuge elsewhere. You are my earthquake. I am desperately seeking stable ground.
  4. Hello, all. I am new to this site, and in just a few hours, I already feel surrounded by the warmth and comfort of people that are experiencing the same daily battle I've been suffering through for more than a decade now. However, the stakes just got MUCH higher a few years ago, when I became pregnant with twins.... Now, it's not just about saving my sanity, it's time to protect my boys, too. I could write a "War and Peace" entry that would go on for days, though I'll attempt to keep this as concise as possible. You know how it is... So much pain and suffering harboring in your soul; day after dreadful day. How does one articulate it all into words? Well, here's my attempt... I met my husband on an online dating website about eleven years ago. The moment we met, face to face, I knew it must have been fate. He was the one. Or so I thought. Within eight months, we were engaged, and then married about a year later. He's stunning, well educated, gainfully employed, and always the star of the show. You know the type. On paper, he's a dream come true, but in reality, he's an ugly, narcissistic monster that can't wait to tear me to shreds. I knew something was wrong long before we got married. He would rarely inquire about ME, and constantly focused our conversations on himself. He was certainly not an affectionate guy; so different from the all men I dated in the past. However, I continued on, hoping that this was all just a phase he was going through as we adjusted into a life of "bliss" together. Boy, was I wrong. Then, we got married. Because one of his exes was still grossly involved in a relationship with his family, I spent my entire wedding day praying that she wouldn't show up to the event all ready to go "Fatal Attraction" on me. True story, folks. Bloody hell, what did I get myself into?! The plot thickened exponentially during the next seven years. We bought a gorgeous new home together. There was a ton of work to be done; designing a custom pool, installing beautiful plantation shutters, furnishing a 4,000 square foot dream home. Well, truth be told, these "distractions" right out of the nuptial gates never afforded us the opportunity to focus on our relationship with one another. There were very few quality conversations conducted, at best. When we did communicate, he became extremely negative about the furniture choices, the cost of items adding up quickly, and so on. I chalked it up to stressful times, and tried to move forward. I might also add that it chaps his hide to know that I am the breadwinner of the family, so although he is incredibly successful, I'm MORE successful, if we're talking dollars and cents, and that really crushes his ego. So, he keeps his own bank account, and doesn't give me access. I don't know if he has two bucks or twenty thousand dollars in that stash. However, he pays the mortgage, and I pay all the other bills to be "fair." Wow...so much for "sharing is caring!" He LOVES to show up at work and impress his friends with our brand new $100k car that I pay for, but he'll beat me up about it the moment he pulls it in the garage, claiming that it is ostentatious. He uses me WHEN he needs me. If I can make him look impressive, he's all for it, but I'll have hell to pay thereafter. Soon after the "I Dos," his rage really ramped up. Wow. I've never seen someone go from "zero to psycho" in a matter of a nanosecond over a ketchup cap falling on the ground. Yes, another true story, y'all. The screaming, the cussing, the slamming of things all around the kitchen... simply because a ketchup cap hit the floor. WTF?! Funny enough, during times of true crisis, he is the most calm, mild-mannered gentlemen you'll ever meet. This may have something to do with his profession in law enforcement; he sees the "big stuff" every single day. Yeah, there's that part, too. He walks on water around the station. He's always getting "atta boys" from the Chief and every other Brass around. That just feeds his overinflated ego to no end. Anyhoooo... His little ketchup crumbling sessions became much more frequent and severe as time progressed. We had a dark mahogany hardwood floor installed downstairs when we moved in. Well, that's like owning a black car, guys. Expect it to look amazing for about ten minutes after you clean it, and then know that it will go to hell in a handbasket in a hot minute. Unfortunately, he was unable to manage these expectations, and each morning he would come downstairs, see the dust and grime that had accumulated on his precious floor, and would promptly begin to scream, swear, stomp, and mop his way into oblivion for his first waking hour. Holy smokes. I used to lock myself in our room upstairs until the dust settled, quite literally. Again, I digress... There are countless examples of his anger and rage that I could post, but I must cut to the chase now. This disposition quickly turned on ME. Instead of ketchup capers, he began to take his frustrations out on me, personally. He began degrading me, calling me names, jabbing at my looks, saying horrible things about my personality, and the like. Here, as a matter of fact, I will just go into "stream of consciousness" mode and I'll create a quick paragraph of the day-to-day things I did/do/will hear from "Mr. Narcissist:" "Shut up. You're an a**h***. F*** Off. Get out of here. Move. Go away. Just get lost. You're a child. You're an idiot. I HATE YOU!!! I never should have married you. Being with you is the biggest mistake of my life. I wish I could leave your sorry a**, but now I"m stuck with you because of the kids. You're a psychopath. You're a spoiled little b****. Stupid a**. You're disgusting. Why do you bother wasting money on your disgusting DEAD hair? Nice crow's feet. You're nothing but a 12-year-old little child. Go back to your perfect little neighborhood you grew up in. You're pathetic. Wh***. Sl**. Cu**. You're a hoarder. You're a horrible mother." Wow... I must take a deep breath after putting those painful words into text. You know, I hear these phrases many, many times a day, and I just realized that I have finally allowed them to diffuse like water off a duck's back. Maybe it's because this tremendous amount of pain has become so severe over the years that I've just become numb to it all?! I have learned to feel desensitized... I used to cry for hours in our room after he'd launch those words at me and storm out the door. I'd play the situation back in my head, over and over and over again, all the while, questioning what I did to him to make him snap. Now, I simply do an "about-face" and walk out of the room when he starts in on me. I don't fuel his fire. I simply don't have the energy or the spirit for it any longer. By the Fall of 2008, he decided that he needed a "break," and moved in with a friend for a month. He swore it wasn't a "separation" or a prelude to "divorce," but I crumbled to the floor. He eventually moved back home, and life was never the same again. I know he didn't date anyone else...cheating has never, ever been a concern of mine...but leaving me, abandoning our marriage, even for 30 days, was enough for me to disconnect. Per usual, day one back in the house, the insults started flying once again. Oh, that's right. This is what it's like to be abused. How quickly I forgot. You're probably asking yourself why I didn't RUN for the hills by 2009, right? Well, retrospectively, I am thinking the same thing. Shoot, I should have launched that exit plan before we walked down the aisle, but everything happens for a reason, right?! Here's why I stayed. Let me share with you a glimpse behind the curtain: I lack self-confidence. I am a perfectionist. I am a giver. I am a fixer. I am a relentless Virgo that strives for perfection, especially within my family life. So, I took it upon myself to "fix" my "Mr. Broken." You know, the most sound advice he gave me, even back when we were first dating, was "you can't change people." Amen, my dear. Amen. I have tried to be the positive master manipulator to get him back to good, but I've failed for more than a decade. With each day, month, and year that passes, I feel like I'VE failed this relationship, because I can't make it "better." I'm slowly beginning to realize that this problem has little to nothing to do with ME; it's all about HIM. I can't "fix" him; only HE can "fix" himself. Period. End of story. I digress once again... Where was I? Oh yeah, let me tell you what happened after he went "on hiatus" in 2008... So, he moved back in, and we kept "trying" to make life together better. Ha. Finally, in early 2012, I was getting close to 37, and said that I really wanted to have a child. He is three years my senior, and so 40 was the ultimate "clock ticking" reminder for both of us. We hesitated at the thought, but mutually agreed that having a child could quite possibly reignite the marriage and bring back that missing "bliss." With that, we gave it six months, and low and behold, I was pregnant. With twins. One never knows how much patience they truly exhibit until they become a parent. Wow. The most immediate lesson learned here was that having a child (or, in our case, children) DOES NOT FIX A MARRIAGE!!! If it didn't work before having kids, it was absolutely not going to work when the stress of raising twins came into play!!! These boys are truly a blessing; they couldn't be more amazing, however, I now realize that all the hell I went through has now amplified, ten times, and these boys are now the recipients of all his abuse, right alongside their Mommy. Enter the "Panic Zone." So, here I am. The boys are just shy of three years old, and they, too, hear every "F*** you, a**h***" that he slings across that fateful kitchen. You see, that kitchen floor, though recently revamped with luxurious, light Italian travertine, still sets him off each day, and night. I tell him that having twin toddlers on his precious floor will inevitably cause a daily mess, up to three times a day during feeding times. He can't possibly keep up with the projectile veggies and sippy cups that tarnish his beloved surface. Something so simple; half of a scrambled egg under a high chair, will set his checkered flag into action. Let the cussing commence. Bring on the brash insults. Watch your babies' eyes turn into saucers as they hear that you HATE THEIR F****** MOMMY. Yeah. Great work, officer. Well done. NOW, I need to do what I call a "Cost/Benefit Analysis" with my life and the life of our boys. Do we stay or do we go? He claims that he'll never divorce me, because he and his brother grew up in a broken home that fell apart when they were ages 2 and 4. He NEVER wants to put his boys through that trauma. Right, like THIS is going to develop well-adjusted kin?! New friends, for the love of our Lord above.... WHAT. DO. I. DO. NOW??? Any words of wisdom, personal experiences, references, prayers, warm gestures... would all be gratefully appreciated. May we all continue to be a mechanism of support for one another. You're all I have now... God bless.
  5. I have been with my wife for a year and a half we recently got married in May the verbal abuse is unbearable she insults me every single time we argue called me a dumb c*** dumb idiot stupid idiot imbecile and tells me that I'm not smart. This is almost daily. Last night we had a huge argument in which she proceeded to tell me that her ex gf whom she has slept with 3 times that we have broken up has great p%¡Ssy . I'm so beyond hurt by this as I have always had a hard time trusting her since she runs beck to her every time we break up. We are both woman by the way. She refuses to leavee because the lease is in her name too. I was given the opportunity to go to a domestic violence shelter tonight for six weeks and save up money to get another place. Idk what to do because I love her but she had no self control when she is mad and cuts with her words. Last night what she said I feel like it killed me inside. Please help me I can't even think straight.
  6. No matter what a woman has done, she never never ever deserves to be spoken to by a man like that, never mind her husband. She does not deserve, I do not deserve to be screamed at, yelled at, berated and belittled. I do not deserve to be called evil, the devil, a frying lady dog by my husband and told to f word off numerous times, his teeth and spit flying from his mouth. I don't deserve to be told that I'm selfish, spoiled and entitled, that I care only about myself, that I'm lazy. Or told that I don't care about giving, I only care about taking. I do not deserve to be told that my kids are terrible people. No matter what my son has done, he would NEVER scream at a woman the way that my husband screams at me. To have him stand there and trap me and endlessly spew hateful accusations at me and then to be told that he loves me - that is sickness, that is abuse. He needles me relentlessly and sucks me into his raging whirlpool of insanity. I have endured 3 1/2 years of his temper tantrums, his accusations, his demands and his belittling. No one should ever have their faith torn apart by another and be subjected to condemnation, judgement and accusations that are false and twisted. I am constantly reminded of all the things that I have done wrong in the past even though I have been promised he will never bring these things up again. Ever. My apologies are never enough, I approach him with sincerity and tears to say how sorry I am, one minute I'm told that I am forgiven and then that forgiveness is snatched back again. I beg, plead for him to tell me what I've done wrong, what he needs from me and the belittling and accusing just continues. It reminds me of a vindictive cat playing with a half-dead mouse. It is cruel, it is vicious. I have not done anything that deserves this kind of treatment. My sins and shortcomings are before me but for them to be met with a viciousness of this magnitude is sickness. I ask for one affirmation from him, ONE thing, just one thing that he can say that gives value to me as a human being, never mind his wife and he can not do it. I weep and I try to tell him that I have loved him the best way that I can, that I have genuinely tried to be the best wife I know how to be. I tear the words from the depths of my guts, I don't know how else to tell him, how to possibly convince him of my sincerity. I beg for understanding and my sins and his twisted logic are thrown back at me again. There is never, ever an opportunity for my hurts to be addressed. If I dare to bring up something, some hurt that he has inflicted on me that I have never bought up before because I am trying to extend grace and to let things go, this thing is thrown back at me, I'm told boo-hoo, get over it. I know how the turnips would fly if I was ever cold-hearted and flippant enough to say that back to him. After all of this, he wants to come in and say "I'm sorry, I love you". I'm not allowed to get away with that, I am lectured that the 2 words, "I'm sorry" do not cut it, THAT it is not a meaningful apology. The irony in what he says to me about my lack of grace, inability to forgive, to give anything and only take for myself is astounding. He is a scared, insecure and angry child. God knew that I needed that visit with Tom today, a man that I hardly know. There are people who look in the eyes of another and see the unspoken stories that are there. They are people with heart and compassion, who can affirm you and tell you that you are exceptional because they see who you are. What is so amazing is that sometimes these people don't call themselves Christians but nonetheless, they have Jesus' love inside of them. Then there are others who look in your eyes and only see themselves and what they want to suck from you. Any kindness that is shown to you has strings attached. These are the ones that know nothing of grace. They may have head knowledge that would take your breath away but this knowledge has never reached their hearts. How can it? Their hearts are coated in an impenetrable shell of unforgiveness, self-pity, hate and bitterness. Bitterness that has been there for years, inflicted by others but taken out on me. No more. I have been kicked to the curb one last time and I'm not going to lie there and keep taking it from him. I'm getting up and running the hell away from this prison of torture as fast as I can and I will not be looking back. Even when he climbs down from his volcano of fury and vitriol, when he wants to cry and tell me that he really does love me, that he wants to have a wonderful life with me and forget what's in the past, that he won't ever bring it up again, that he will get the help that he needs - even then I will not turn back. I am not getting sucked back in to his lies and false promises again. My life is worth so much more than that. Today is the day that I have chosen to be free. "Anger does not beget heart change; it begets shame. Yelling does not beget understanding; it begets hurt. Harsh words do not beget love; they beget humiliation. Intimidation does not beget kindness; it begets fear. Only kindness begets kindness; kindness begets love"
  7. I don't really know what to say. I've started talking to people about what's going on but mostly I'm still just ashamed of myself. I've been dating someone for over a year now who I believe to be verbally abusive and emotionally manipulative with anger issues. And he has had me convinced I deserve it. I was a little too easy before I met him. I had fun with a lot of guys and justified some bad behavior. And he has discovered all of it thanks to reading my emails and facebook and looking through old cell phones and even reading my diary. I lied about relationships I had with guys on my friends lists. I said some were just friends who I'd had physical relationships with. I wanted to stay friends. I knew it wasn't ok to have physical contact anymore but maybe this was too much to ask. I deleted anyone I'd had a history with unless it was ancient history to prove my loyalty to my boyfriend. I was still constantly scrutinized. I was a liar after all. Then my best friend was rejected as a bad influence. If I spent time alone with her I would be brainwashed into my old behaviors because all I was to her was a wing man. And he knows people better than me. I'm too naive. There are too many incidents to recount but I've known for a long time something is wrong. And I can't leave. He breaks me down til I beg to die or beg him to let me go or I'll leave he can have the house or I'll keep it whatever he wants I just want out. Then the guilt. I'm the one with the past. I'm the one who lied about it and hid it from him. There's screaming and name calling. He's never laid a hand on me accept to hold me from leaving the house when he thought i shouldn't drive because I'd been drinking. I wasn't that drunk and I wasn't going to drive just wait in the car and call someone to come get me. I've alienated everyone to keep the peace. He says that's my fault. I feel like sometimes he's right. I'm ashamed of my decisions. I always said I was too smart. Once before someone was controlling and bad to me and I swore never again. It crept up on me this time and I was stuck. And before I knew it my whole safety net was gone and I was sure I deserved everything. I know this is rambling. I don't know if it makes sense. There's so much more I want to say but I have to leave work soon and I can't be on here from home. I'm trying to get away. I keep staying. I'm so tired of trying to defend myself. I worry I'll try to escape in the most final way possible. I can't I won't hurt my family like that. But I know something is wrong if I've considered that option. I can't help feel like some of it is deserved. Like karma. If you read this whole thing thank you. If not that's ok too. I just need to keep getting these things out of my head to understand myself better. To figure out the right decision.