Why did I stay?

So. Why did I stay? Why did I have children with the man?

When you live with someone with a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde personality you aren't sure what side of the personality is the "true" being. I wanted to assume that initially these outbursts were rare and because of extreme stress. The good side of my husband is very, very good. Our day-to-day life was usually normal.

I also blamed myself. A lot.

If only I were a better wife. Kinder. More patient. More loving. Smarter. Better. More organized. More intelligent. More ANYthing.

I also felt that I wasn't perfect. I had some major health problems. My husband didn't abandon me because of them. If he had cancer or was paralyzed I wouldn't just up and leave him. I viewed his anger as a "disease" of sorts that needed to be addressed and worked through. The problem is, while he would apologize a lot of the time, he never took responsibility or sought help when I began saying that he problem was not normal and required professional therapy.

I believe in marriage. I believe in family. I believe in loyalty.

We had the same socio-economic and religious backgrounds. We were the same age. We had the same goals. We both wanted children to love and cherish and raise.

For much of our early marriage we were under extreme stress. There was non-curable, painful disease, infertility, adoption, advanced schooling, moving, debt and much more. I always had in the back of my mind, "once we get through this hurdle...things will get better...this is just so stressful...things will get better."

Also, in early marriage you are constantly building towards something. First, there is college, then jobs, then a house, then children... But at the stage I am at now we are at a plateau. All of the "root building" distracting work of our early marriage is over and now it is just day-to-day living. The reasons to "hold things together for..." are diminishing.

The truth is, I did consider divorce many times in the back of my mind. The reasons that kept me in an abusive situation, kept me married. I had no self-confidence. I was depressed. I was often told "the house is mine, the cars are mine, the credit is mine, the money is mine...you will suffer without me." I blamed myself. I was in denial. I couldn't see the control or the abuse clearly.

Towards the end, what I decided is that my husband works very long hours. I was alone with the children allll day long everyday. The only day he saw us and them was Saturdays. I would ask to rest or would do housework while he took them out to do fun things...I know now this was to avoid him and the problems we were having under the "happy" surface. Sundays we had church and getting ready for the upcoming week. I started rationalizing that I could handle the situation until my children were grown and then move out when they were at a less impressionable age.

Ha. Ha. Ha. Less impressionable age.

The straw that broke the camel's back:

My husband got angry about something. Can't remember what. I just remember it was out of the blue and he started a tirade as I passed him in the kitchen. He gets loud and intimidating. His finger was in my face and he was leaning over me as I leaned back. He was red-faced and I could see "that look" in his eyes that told me that "my" husband had checked out and his evil twin was now reigning supreme.

Out of the corner of my eye I see my son reaching for his new bb gun. I didn't put two and two together until later. I had sent the children out to play while my husband calmed down and returned to "normal"...and when I went to check on them my son proudly told me (chest puffed up, eyes bright with pride) "Don't worry mama, I was going to shoot Daddy if he tried to hurt you!"

I felt nauseous. I felt the bottom drop out of my world. I wasn't protecting them by staying, I was hurting them...

I told my husband what our 8 year old said. I thought it would shock him into action. Our son adores his Daddy and vice-versa. He ignored me. Looked at me blankly and continued doing whatever it was he was doing. It didn't register. No emotion. No change-of-heart.

That was the beginning of the end.