Archives for the month of: November, 2013

I’m remaining strong…

which is just as well because yesterday, when I was trying to help him with something (at a time that wasn’t convenient with me), he looked at me with disgust and called me a w*****.

So although things have been peaceful of late, that proves that the monster is still there waiting to unleash itself.

The difference now is within me.  Instead of feeling upset, trying even harder, beating myself up, and generally acting like a submissive kitten, I got angry.  (The counsellor is encouraging me to feel and express my emotions instead of bottling them up.)  I’d always felt that anger was a bad thing, that negotiation was better, but you can’t reason with a madman.  So I asked him, quite loudly, how he would feel if I asked him to do one thing for me half an hour before he went to work, that I was going, and would look at it again later when I had time.  He didn’t say goodbye!

When I got back, he was ok. He asked me if I’d sort it out, but I was going out again so I firmly said that it wasn’t a convenient time for me.  I set boundaries and I stuck to them.

I let my anger out and prevented it from poisoning me.

And I feel better: stronger, more powerful and in control of my life.

And that’s great!

I’ve not been posting much recently. Why?

Because I’ve been doing a lot of learning and thinking and implementing. The counselling is really helping. Every week I have another lightbulb moment.

Also I’m not being emotionally abused.

I started to doubt that I ever was, that it was all a figment of my imagination.

Then I realised that I’m not being abused because I’m not allowing myself to be abused.  I seem to have adjusted my thinking, altered my responses and constructed a force field around me, which any attempted attacks cannot penetrate.

And it’s been very effective.

I’m feeling strong. I’m feeling equal.

The eggshells are broken.

And I don’t care.



I’ve been quiet on here recently because I’ve had so many lightbulb moments that before I can write about one, another occurs.

Tonight I feel melancholy. Why?

After a good weekend, husband is home and I am reminded of everything that is missing in my life, in this relationship: love, affection, companionship, support.

I ask him about his day.  He tells me.  He doesn’t ask me about mine.  He’s not interested in me. I feel inhuman.

Tonight I’m mourning.  Why?

I’m mourning the things we will never do. We will never go out together; we will never go on holiday again; we will never make love, or kiss, or hold hands, or dance; we will never talk about me, about us.

And this is acceptable to him. He sees nothing wrong. For him, this marriage is ok.

But this is not acceptable to me.  I seen this as being very, very wrong.  I did not get married to live like this. Who would?

I realise that the only reason this marriage appeared to work for so long was that I was refusing to allow it not to work.  I was making all the effort, putting on a sunny smile, and refusing to give up on it.  I managed to fool us both.  But no-one can carry on like that indefinitely, without getting anything back.  Yet, everything is deemed to be my fault.

The more I reflect, the more I come to the conclusion that when you enter into a marriage contract, there are certain obligations.  It’s unacceptable to withdraw intimacy, companionship and sex, without explanation.  You’re breaking the agreement and that’s cruel.

And although the idea goes against all my principles, I’m starting to think that I am entitled to break the agreement as well, by looking elsewhere.

I wish there was some way I could make him understand.

But I know that’s futile.


Post title from a song by Tom Odell ‘Can’t Pretend’