My First Step Toward Separation

Today I did something so incredibly difficult; I took my first step toward separation from my husband, who has become so emotionally abusive lately, I can hardly stand it. My step: I transferred mine and my son's cell phone numbers out of his account and into my own.

I feel both scared and a burden gently lifting, a glimmer of freedom, after doing this. My fear is this move may prompt further and more intense abuse as he sees me not caving into his emotional blackmail tactics. My freedom, and it's very slight, is that I don't have the stress of worrying if he'll disconnect or take away my precious communication device. Right now I need my phone more than anything, and I am happy to know he no longer has control over it.

The other issue is realty: this is REALLY happening. We are splitting up.

Big scary step for me. Whew.

Why is it so hard to leave an abuser?

I'm having such a difficult time letting go of my abuser husband. He's a complete jerk, hasn't spoken to me in two weeks, and is the most difficult, mean person I've ever lived with. Yet leaving and ending our marriage is incredibly sad to me. I should be happy and celebrating I'll be free from his abuse, but I'm not.

He obviously has no respect for me, but somehow, in some stupid way, I keep hoping he'll call and say he's sorry for hurting me (never has once in our nine years together, so not sure why he would now), and that he wants to make things right and will do whatever it takes.

Wow. I am dreaming.

"I didn't know I had to set an appointment."

Last night was very depressing for me. I came home after work and laid on my bed all night, felling very depressed. I left my bedroom door open in hopes my soon-to-be x-husband would come talk to me; maybe invite me out to dinner to talk about things. Instead, he came home, rummaged through the kitchen cupboards, then left, obviously to have dinner on his own.  I was so disappointed (and stupid for even thinking he'd want to talk).

This morning I walked in the master bedroom to get something, and Mr. Asshole (abuser, husband, jerk, etc) was awake. I stopped at the foot of the bed and said, "Are you ever going to talk to me?" He rolled his eyes and cruelly replied, "I didn't know I needed to set an appointment."

I was taken aback by his cold, cruel reply, firing it off after just waking up. I didn't know what to say so I left the room. Crying, I angrily stepped back in and told him he's destroying me and he's very successful at it. I so regret going back in and doing that. Next time, if there ever is a next time, I need to keep my emotions and anger under wrap.

I got in my car and took my son to school. I was soooooooo angry at this jerk's meanness; he has no end to it. He hasn't spoken to me in thirteen days, after raging at me, and he continues to treat me like shit. He's an asshole with MAJOR psychological problems. I'm so done with him and his abuse.

Right now, I hate him.

Questions

Okay... I know he, my husband, wouldn't be abusing me if he was nice, but can't he just give it, the meanness, up for a moment and be real? Does every waking moment/interaction with me have to be a game?

And further... why can't I just tell him to go f*$k himself? Instead, I hang on - hoping, waiting, believing he'll change, all the while ingesting the pain and hurt he's tossing my way.

My God... how on earth did I fall into this situation?

Feeling So Alone

My fifteen-year-old son is sleeping at a friend's house tonight, which means I'll be home alone with my silent-treatment, intimidating, abusive husband, or soon-to-be x-husband. I am NOT looking  forward to heading home.

I've been hanging out at work all day, all alone. This place is deserted, closed for the holiday weekend. I've called a few girlfriends to see if they want to meet for a drink but nobody has gotten back to me. I feel so alone, so stripped of my strength and vigor.

I don't know if I can live like this, a single woman. I feel lost. Maybe I should crawl back and grovel to my abuser, beg his forgiveness for the indiscretions I've committed against him. No matter it's still a mystery to me what sins I've committed to provoke and induce his anger and abuse, but perhaps the begging would alleviate my current emotional pain by getting him to like me again, if only for a while.

I know this is ridiculous, the thought of begging my abuser to take me back. But my pain and loneliness isn't ridiculous; I'm feeling desperate and looking for relief. I hope I find it soon.

UPDATE: a girlfriend just called and we're getting together soon. No begging tonight...

The Silent Treatment

My husband hasn't spoken to me for six days (except to kick me out of the bedroom and announce to my son he's leaving). His silence, of course, was preempted by the intense and unprovoked rage (sound byte below) over me ruining his afternoon, which obviously is an excuse for some deeper control issue on his part. Today I have been thinking about how his silence is a form of abuse. In fact, it's a very effective form of abuse.

This treatment has caused me great sadness, depression, anxiety, inability to sleep, severe "walking on eggshells," crying, nervousness, hopelessness, and stress. I have had a huge knot in my stomach since last Friday.

Wow. Saying nothing after a rage, the silent treatment, is a form of abuse that is quite severe and effective. My abuser sure knows his tactics well.

Why Does He Do That?

I have been reading an excellent book on abuse entitled "Why Does He Do That?: Inside the Minds of Angry and Controlling Men" by Lundy Bancroft. It's such an eye-opening read and completely hits home, describing the emotional abuse I've endured in my marriage. It helps to know I'm not alone.

What I'm having a problem with, however, is facing reality. Some of the stories in the book describe severe physical abuse; my physical incident was only once. And while much of the emotional abuse described rings true to my situation on a daily basis, I'm having a tough time admitting that's what's going on. In fact, just this morning I awoke and decided the best thing to do would be to call my husband's former wife and see if her twenty-year marriage consisted of the same sort of mind-boggling, anger-filled abuse tactics. It sure would help me to understand that I'm not crazy. Then again, maybe I am.

Oh hell... this really sucks.