The long story of my goals

This is my account of my frustrations in my marriage. You can skip this post. I felt that it would be helpful to me to write it. Sometimes my actions seems completely justified in my head but when I write them I can see how overblown they were. Looking back I understand I was not always in the right and we both have things to work on.

My husband and I have been viciously fighting daily since April of 2016. I am furious about it. I am furious about our entire marriage but until this last year I don’t think my spirit was broken. I would try to problem solve, I would try to see the best in the situation, I would try to understand how he was coming to his decisions. Now I just want him to pay,  to suffer, to writhe a little, to die. I truly hate him.

When I started to feel this way I didn’t understand. He speaks softly, he compliments, he hasn’t had an affair. How can I complain? How many others have no husband? how many are abused? All my friends see him as an attentive good man. I didn’t understand, so I started to research how to change my attitude and perspective.

It turns out his sin is hidden. It is so hidden. It’s not the infidelity. It’s how he doesn’t allow me to express my hurt over it. It’s not how he doesn’t help me through the day, it’s how every request I make is overwhelming. It’s not that he didn’t get done what I asked, it’s how he blames me for his failure. It’s not that we disagree, it’s how everything is my fault or that it has to come down to my sins are worse.  I feel like I say I’m hurt and he says that stupid. I ask for something and he says I already have it. It a eternal trap of emotional pain.

The beginning years of marriage were trash. I was overjoyed and excited. He was unimpressed. We had always been great friends and the instant we crossed the threshold of our first day together everything feel apart. I feel like it started the night of our marriage. We had dated for five years. He had what he expected for sex already laid out and it didn’t happen on our wedding night. To add to it I worked and went to college the same as him and I expected team work in the household. He expected a 50s wife that would do all the chores. He shut down, he didn’t explain his frustrations or expectations to me. The sex stopped the communication stopped and with in 3 months he had signed into several dating sites and started a habit of porn in our house.

This lasted six years. I would bring it to him. I hate this, I hate the porn, I hate we don’t talk, I couldn’t place it but I felt unloved. From the outside our life was beautiful. We both had jobs, we went to church and I would sit against him. I talked softly to him and he talked softly to me. No one knew he would tell me not to cough. I would have panic attacks and he would tell me to “be quiet-just stop!” He would tell me the porn was between himself and God and had nothing to do with me. If I would just quit getting mad about it.

Then he moved jobs. He went from his office job were he accessed the porn to an outside job. He did it because he recognized the porn needed to stop. I rejoiced. I had anger inside that I had never been aloud to express because he deemed it misplaced. He had never done anything wrong and it was sin for me to bring it to him upset or calm. And this relived it.

I decided no matter what I was going to do my best job ever as a good wife from this point on. So what our first years were crap? it could be different now. By this time we had two kids and the first was just about to go into Kindergarten. I worked 2 pm to 10:30 pm 5 days a week and was crushed I would only see my son two days a week. Then my hero husband, taking up this new job, this hard labor job, this uncomfortable thing could allow me to be a stay at home mom.

I was in love. I was so proud of him. I bragged. I swooned. And I did it all. I kept the house, I scrubbed the pool, I mowed the lawn, scooped the snow, painted the rooms, cleaned the garage. All with admiration for this man that would take this hard job for the good of our family. I knew he gave up porn and tried to do whatever I could for him sexually. I tried to surprise him when I could with food or small gestures. I left him alone after the kids went to bed so he could watch tv. Now I understand that I was too much.

It didn’t take long. I would find time I could spare for sex and he would gush, “Isn’t it nice I can sooth your needs?” My mind tried to ignore it but I didn’t understand why he could just say he enjoyed our sex. I would get tired of being at home A L L the time and would asked if we could go out together. He would be more than thrilled, “oh yeah let me call my mom to see if she will babysit”. Then it would never happen, yet he would go out drinking with his friends every Friday. I would sit at home with the kids while he went out, I would reserve it to do special things for myself that night. to read or have a tray of sushi, or drink wine. I didn’t let it seep in how hurt I was.

(I am still only starting this healing and there are things I don’t understand yet. Through this I started to process everything I wanted as a sin. I understand that my husband was spinning a web of everything I asked was a disrespect and selfish. I’ve also learned that coming from an overprotective family that things I wanted to try or do always turned out to be too dangerous or ridiculous. I love books and love to write, and being a stay at home mom I thought that would be a simple way to feel accomplished and excited. Not long into working on my own fiction writing I felt overwhelmed with guilt. I felt I sinned against God to write stories. I am still not sure how to process that, but hopefully I can come back and see what God really things of my stories. )

That didn’t last a year. We were having another Stepford wives perfect day and I was dragging. I was pregnant and feeling. Me feeling anything irritates him. I stopped him in the hall and expressed that maybe I wasn’t feeling loved. He lashed out. Then why does he go to the hard job if not to express love?! I didn’t respond. That didn’t sooth anything. Was that the truth? The only love I should expect is monetary? and so the itch started. The itch to figure out why I felt the way I did.

The months before my third child was born I started to see his heart more. Not that it wasn’t the same as always, I just think I was looking for it now. I wasn’t doing all my wife chores. I was exhausted. having to help put socks on my feet at night was irritating to him. After the child had came and we had been sent home I cried for him to just sit with me. My C-section made me feel weak and I just wanted him to lay in bed with me. He wouldn’t come to bed until after I fell asleep.

I began to see a therapist. She read things to me and I would  weep. I didn’t understand. I still thought he was a great husband. At least I didn’t think there was much wrong. But it hurt me to watch  romance in movies. It hurt to see others together and how he seemed to adore her as much as she adored him. It hurt to think of how much I forgave him and he got so irritated with me over tiny things. I took these ideas and went home. I sat down at the table and announced, “I think our past is hurting how I feel”.

He imploded. “Why do you think I’m evil, you are putting a wedge in our marriage, your expectations are impossible”. I was hurt. I yelled back that I wasn’t bringing him a fight. I was dumbfounded. Was I really putting a wedge in our marriage? Were my expectations to high?  At the time I reanalyzed. I questioned my motives and actions. Why did his response make me sad? Why did my question make him mad? Now I know. His response to anything that he assumes will cause him work or guilt is to lash out, blame, change the subject, ore redirect fault.

So this started the destructions of any semblance of peace in our house. I knew there was something wrong. I didn’t know what but I didn’t let it go. I kept seeing the therapist. I asked him to come in. She met with him one session and told me to kick him out for my mental health. That he was disrespectful to me and I need 30 to 60 days to get my bearings. He left for one week before I called him back. My parents were on their way to see us I didn’t want anyone to know that we were so broken that he wasn’t even staying with us. As soon as he got back he was yelling. Did I know the hurt I caused him accusing him of such evil?! I couldn’t process this. When? When did I do this? When I came home and asked him to talk over our past of course. I couldn’t understand. I could not air any hurt about anything and he was presenting me with this giant fit about asking to talk. I felt that it was ridiculous and unfair.

Now the therapist would not talk to me about our marriage if I was unwilling to do what she recommended. I was broken. I don’t think I had ever thought through he should respect me. I hadn’t thought of him as emotionally abusive. I need to be taught more and I felt that it was awful that therapist was acting so offended I hadn’t followed her directions to a T. now he was rip roaring mad that I had asked him to leave the house. I tried to talk to him about us daily, I wanted this fixed, which of course is a death sentence to any man.

All of our conversations were one sided. I would explain how I felt or my opinion or what I saw and he would brush it off as irrelevant or unnecessary. But I had to, had to, had to understand his point of view. I would cry and cry and he would stand over me and explain all the ways I was wrong.

I am a problem solver at heart. Mothers day comes we spent the day at his mothers. I express I had wanted some attention too! Why don’t we go out this next weekend? his response the same as always, yes, that’s good, let me call my mom to see if she will watch the kids. the week keeps tick and no date is planned. He comes home for break from work, I cook him lunch and ask him how the plan for our date is. he will call him mom. Your phone is right there let me dial for you (passive aggressive at its best). He says no, why do I doubt him?  he will get it done. Friday comes and goes with no date. Fine. I understand I’ve been grumpy and expressive the entire week and it was making him unwilling to do things for our marriage.

So I plan a date for him. I get a sitter and when he gets off work we go out. He is surprised, we get Philly sandwiches, and go to Walmart since I do all the house shopping and he hadn’t been there in a long time (serious, this is what he wanted to do). He’s thrilled. I had been asking for sex for weeks. I felt broken that we were disconnected and was trying to reconnect however I could- looking back I needed to have more respect for myself- and he was saying yes of course but when it came down to it he wouldn’t have anything to do with me. I offered a sexual act that I didn’t often allow and he seemed pleased.

As soon as we got home I felt overwhelmed. I sat down at the computer and looked for encouragement finding a marriage article. I cannot remember what the article was about but it broke me. I sat in the spin chair mourning how disconnected we were. Mourning how little he was doing to try to keep us together. He came back to me-crying and I couldn’t explain why the happy encouragement made me sad. In the midst of my tears he asked me if we could go do that sexual act. I don’t know the last time he had asked me for sex. I usually offered it to him when ever I got a chance and he would say yeah, I suppose. But I’m broken and not thrilled about what he’s asking me to do. I apologize profusely, I’m overwhelmed tonight, these last few months have been hard, please forgive me and I will defiantly do this with you in the morning. His answer is maybe if you think about it you’ll be better. He planned on taking a shower and asking again. I said I didn’t think it would change anything but he could ask. I went to the bedroom broken laid on the side of the bed to think and fell asleep, in my clothes, completely out of the ordinary. A testament of the tired I was. I mean my husband and I had been fighting constantly, I had a 5 month old baby and two kids. My breast milk had dried up out of no where, I was a broken human anyway not considering fighting with this man daily for months.

I wake to him naked. He tells me we are going to do what he asks tonight. I’ve never seen him so excited about anything. I tell him no. He positions himself for it and we do it anyway. Forced wouldn’t be the word. he didn’t have to hold me down, but I was more than unwilling. He moaned and groaned and visibly enjoyed it more than I have seen him enjoy anything in forever. After he was done I didn’t even feel like a person any more. He disrespected me to a level I never thought possible and I didn’t know how to cope.

I sat with it for a few weeks. I knew he had been asking me to stop yelling. I feel like I yell because I don’t want to hear his lies and tricks. He tells me what I say hurts never happened. What I say feels like lies he did in my best interest. He turns things around, he makes everything my fault. I yell cause I want all the pain to stop, but still I yell which I shouldn’t. I sit down with a notebook and write how I feel. that he disrespected me. I ask him to the kitchen table to a calm conversation. I express calmly I feel hurt about how that night went. he wont even sit. He shrugs, “if you didn’t want it to happen, you could have fought me”. He is still upset I’m trying to talk to him about problems. He’s still righteous. I offered that act that night and should have been willing to go through with it because I was the one that offered it. I was going back on my words and that was unfair.

I toss the anger notebook out. it didn’t matter if I yelled or spoke calmly, my feeling and opinions did not matter. We fought for months. I was dying a small death each night. he explain to me that he had been having sexual fantasies about customers at work, because forbidden fruits are exciting. He called a friend to vent about his marriage issues and came back with this peach. I needed understand I was the car in his garage, his. And I was a nice car. But the other cars look different and nice too. (nod knowingly) sure. That what it is. We took family outings and I could barely function. He faked it so well during the day in front of others. We took a trip to the farmers market and found ourselves in a sea of half dressed college girls. He was already saying sorry before we parked the car. We were trying not to fight in front of the kids and texted back and forth angrily even though we stood side by side. He apologized over and over. Hes sorry he doesn’t know how to deal with his addiction to women. He’s sorry he can’t deal with their bodies. He ends this mess with even if he tore out his eyes they would still be in his head.

I begged and pleaded for him to solidify us. Say we are in a mess of temptation but we are married and fine. This is going to be a great day with the family and you and I are strong together. Say anything…anything but you are so drawn to them they will be stuck in your head. Say who cares about girls, look at the goat cheese! Its everywhere! but no I needed to know his struggle was real.

We got to August and we were having a terror of a fight. I had had it. He needed to crush me one more time. Have me understand one more time I was irrational part of his day. And as there often was he threw a distracting confessing in the middle of this war, he looked at naked magazines the day before. It was just a distraction tactic and I snapped. He was leaving for work anyway I pushed him out the door, I slapped him across the face and told him THAT WAS IT. He left for work, and I had to console confused kids. I put cartoons on the tv and drug out the suitcases.  I called the church lost about what to do. I spoke with a long time friend and she said Retrouvaille. It’s a marriage program and has to be starting soon.

That’s the God miracle. Retrouvaille happens twice a year and it was starting in two days. She begged me to try that before we start the divorce process. I stomped and screamed and lost it but called and signed up. And so we went.

Retrouvaille broke him. It explained to him feelings are not evil or wrong. He had never listened to my hurt. He started to listen frustratingly slow but it started. I could in very small doses express how I feel.

He started listening to marriage books on his phone at work. He started trying to change how he talks. The Retrouvaille program explains manipulations as anything you do to get the other person to do what you want besides asking directly. He started recognizing his deep manipulations. He is slowly changing.

So Retrouvaille happened in August and in November we had a knock out teeth argument over wording. He had a young lady he was INFATUATED with early in our marriage. And extremely stupidly I was using her as a means to explain something else. Something he once told me in comment about our not very thrilling sex life was, “I wish I had prospective with so & so”. I was speaking fast and said it carelessly, “you remember when you wanted to have sex with so & so?” Everything progressive about that conversation stopped at that point. HE never wanted to have sex with her-just prospective!!! What the F— is prospective? SEX! anyway you understand from there. I was frustrated before retrouvaille, and even though it seemed to help his head, it was setting in that I was going to have to live in this stage of growth for years. YEARS. Y E A R S.

I destroyed everything. I was getting what I wanted. Our marriage was healing, but I wanted it better NOW! I broke our Christmas decorations about him and I. Tossed pictures. Crushed the things from our wedding. poured water over the love notes I wrote him while in school. Threw away the collections of our travels. Took the pictures of the walls and put holes in them. Busted dishes. I desperately wanted the bloody ring off his ugly fat finger.

I threw his first ring out the window our first year of marriage after he couldn’t keep it on. He would take it off to go to work were his boss was having an active affair. When we moved out of that apartment into a house, I bought him a new ring as repentance for my actions. he had tried everything to destroy us our first year and I told him I was dedicated to him regardless. That bloody ring represented my forgiveness, my commitment to him, my respect and love for him and I did NOT feel that anymore at all ever in my days. But to him he seemed to think of it as a ring of power. He was my husband! How dare I treat him the way I did!! How dare I cloud his life with my trivial needs. I asked for it and he wouldn’t give it to me so I tried to get it off my self. We fought physically and I found I could do nothing to him.

He overpowered me. He would wrap his arms around me and hold me still that no matter how I fought I could not get away. That fueled a want to claw his face off. That fuel a want to wrap a cord around his neck and pull it tell he understood I had some power.

Now I’m understand. I want to control something. I want power somewhere. I see him and his boundaries. There are things that if I step over he reduces me to a bucket of tension, anxiety, and tears. The idea that I hurt my husband was, in the past, enough to make me turn around, want to repent, and change my actions. But when he steps my boundaries he explains to me why he didn’t have a choice and it’s mostly my fault it happened anyway. I have no way to express he is hurting me. I feel powerless to regulate my own request for respect, I feel powerless to protect myself from attack.

So that’s were we are. I have so much to work on. I can’t blame him. I’ve had boarders but I’ve allowed disrespect. I need to have clearer boarders. I can’t submit to him blindly. I need to have strong statements of respect for myself. I need to have boarders that I expect for myself- like don’t hit idiots, or call my husband and idiot… I don’t deserve to be disrespected when I bring up my needs and wants. I’ve decided I need to stay in this marriage, but in my heart he feels like the enemy. Which is also a problem. I need to decided I want something from him. Right now if he touches me with a 10 mile long stick I will burn him. If he walked in with 12 dozen roses, poems of written love, and jewels I would probably still happily push him down the stairs.

But we have spent 11 years were he talked to me happily meaning me harm in his heart because he judged me as irrelevant and bothersome. Sex feels like a trap, his words feel like a trap, his gifts seem like a trap, his invitations seem like a trap. I feel like taking anything kind from him will result in him being able to say remember I did that for you, and I will be trapped again. That can’t be. I need to be able take good from him just because he loves me (HaHAhaHAAahha!), not because he is putting coins in his own bank to force me into servitude latter.  And  I don’t know what power I have to combat his passive aggressive anger. he is so slippery. I maybe able to watch him do mean things to me but he will claim he was only thinking of me! So there are things I still don’t know how to deal with. I need to find some love in my heart. I need to find a will to deal with him cordially. I need to find solid answers to how to combat him while he is trying to heal his manipulations that don’t pull us into fights. I need to have some understand of him so I don’t think he is so evil while he is trying to wrestle with me. I mean he has had these habits his entire lives, he is still going to exercise them daily. I need to be able to tell myself he is acting as a child, he is a monster of habit, he isn’t respecting me because he cant deal with guilt in his own head and that is his issue not mine- I cant allow it, but I don’t need to hurt him over it.

Anyway. This is a mess. I am ANGER. and I believe anger isn’t a base emotion. Anger comes from the inflammation of other root emotions. I am sad and frustrated. I am trying to grow. I am trying to heal myself. I have no control over my marriage. I have no power over anything but my response to these days God gives me. Even though Lord knows I’ve tried to have control and power to know avail. I believe my life will be beautiful if I can just do this. I will become strong. Sure footed. I will become knowledgeable and I already feel more compassion for ANGRY people. I believe in YEARS he will be a decent person. Deal with his own guilt, have standards and morals, view others as image bearers of God, but my goal right now is to deal with my own sins. Become a beautiful image bearer of God myself.



The long story of my goals

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