How did I become the devil?
How did I become the devil in his eyes? For 13 years I worked so hard to be a good wife. I tried so hard to be someone he would love. I wanted to be a person he would want to be with, to parent with. I did everything he told me to do. I did everything for him. I gave of myself in ways that no person should have to give. I thought I was doing the right things.
Being married, he thought meant, I promised to be his wife no matter what. No matter what level of abuse or neglect. No matter how worthless or ashamed he’d make me feel. I had an obligation to remain his wife. Because I didn’t see it that way, because I thought not being married to him anymore might lead to more happiness for me, this makes me untrustworthy. He tells me he can’t trust me. That I don’t keep my word. That I break agreements.
At first, I agreed to not ask for child support while he was in school. This was based on the conversation we’d had about him keeping my rent at 865 (though the lease stated 890) and with him getting a job as soon as he could to help pay for kids expenses. He raised my rent to 1200, then down to 890. He never paid a dime of support. When he took A and refused to return him and I wanted things modified, only to make things clearer, I decided to also asked for support because, well, he should be helping, just like he said he would…but this turned into me not keeping our agreement.
Things at the house needed repair. He’d deny that anything was wrong. He announced tasks that I was to complete (power wash the siding) that made no sense. He laughed when A talked about being angry and punching holes in the walls “try not to do too much damage bud!” he said. After serving 32 months of a 36 month lease, I quit. I left. I moved out. I can’t keep my word.
While we were married, any time I’d vocalize my frustration about the kids, it was met with remedies from him as to how I could be a better parent. Any time I’d vocalize my frustrations with him, it was met with remedies about how more sex would lead to a better marriage. I was also told that my expectations were far too high. No marriage was perfect, and clearly that’s what I wanted. Perfection.
I used to dread coming home. I used to dread the time after dinner. He wanted attention. All of it, all of the time. He thought giving me a hug after a hard day meant sex later. He thought putting dishes in the dish washer, or screaming at and spanking the kids into pajama submission meant he was doing his part. He thought spending money on painting one kid’s room 2 weeks before Christmas when we still had no way to pay for the rest of the presents was a fine idea. He, more than a few times, forgot the kids at daycare, then refused to go get them. The daycare he drove by to get home every night. He thought telling me that we were all moving to South Dakota so he could go to law school was enough. He didn’t think it deserved a conversation. Any question, concern or hesitation I had was me being unsupportive.
He never knew me. I know that. He never loved me. I know that too. But I don’t understand how you make the leap from being happy in a marriage (which he swears he was) to wanting someone dead. After I moved out last week, he posted on his Facebook about how terrible being a landlord is. Then he posted this: Someone is alive today because I don’t want to go to prison.
I can’t believe how insane and twisted his thinking has become. Was it always that way? Did he hide it better then? Did I just not see it before? He’s scary. He’s unstable and unpredictable. He is the type to rage uncontrollably and do something dangerous…More than once during this moving process, from the time I told him we were moving to the time we were actually moved, I worried that he’d come and burn the house down with us all in it. I don’t think my fear is unfounded. I don’t understand how he could have fallen so far down the crazy hole. Was he always just standing on the edge of it?
It just reminds me that no matter how good things might have seemed, all those fleeting moments I’d hold onto, thinking “I guess its not so bad” were just him trying to make me stay. Trying to make me unsure about how crappy it all really was. But now, standing in this empty, sad, tiny kitchen…its crappy. It was always crappy. This house was for him to say he had a house. It wasn’t a place to raise happy, healthy kids. It wasn’t a place for holiday celebrations or extended family dinners. It was just a thing. A possession. Just like me. Just like the boys.
Looking Forward 