Piece of My Story - The Relationship

I have received a message from a friend wishing me well after visiting this blog. Then, she asked what has happened.  It dawned to me that I needed to bring in more pieces of my story on the table. I will begin with the relationship that went to tie the knot. Unfortunately, it turned sour eventually and aggression heightened.

He has not shown such aggression earlier in our relationship. Most colleagues, who have met him, even remember likening him to a “gentle giant”. He’s this tame and soft big guy. Although, we often had verbal confrontations prior to marriage, it was never physically aggressive.

The behavior began to shift quickly after marriage. Physical aggression emerged and began as hitting walls behind me, or whatever it was behind me. He became emotionally distant as I went through pregnancy. The feeling of emotional isolation, abandonment and detachment which has hurt me most. Then, the whole aggression escalated after I gave birth. The wall-hitting became punches that landed on me. If I recall correctly about two punches on each of those occasion. But he would quickly shift back to apology and wooing me; the honeymoon phase of the cycle.

There was even a time, I sat near the doorway. I was on a chair with arms. I was exactly where the door would hit the chair’s arm if you moved it towards me. Angry as he was at me for not giving spare change, he banged the door repeatedly towards the chair I sat on. My child then aged two saw this. I saw how her eyes grew in fear. She ran towards me rested her head on my lap cuddling what she could grab of my thighs. He went on banging the door and shouting.

No, he never laid hands on her. But at one instance he got upset (I could not remember for what reason); he wrung a spoon around her small wrist. It was loose; but, it scared her.

Economic abuse was apparent as well. Looking at how things were then, I can now point easily to his emotionally controlling behavior. This included the classic suicidal threats. It was not easy to see for me that it was control then as I attributed it to his mother’s death. I rationalized for his behavior as an expression of pain and sorrow.

My naturally nurturing character lent this rationalization; as well as my “I’ll fix it” compulsion. He basked on that character trait and (as my friend termed it) took advantage.

Did anyone know? None for a while. I kept mum about it. How long did I stay, LOOOONG. Check the timeline.

Timeline

I’m better now inside me, but I am still groping to have my life back in track. I am not choosing to stop. There are many humps on the road; the journey seem slow. Most times, I’m still anxious. I’m still a work in progress.