At this point in my blog, I want to take a moment, and reflect on Chris and R. separately and from my hearts prospective on our relationships. Simply because, after discovering the truth of my husbands infedility, my heart released the negativity it had been clinging to and I have since begun a slow healing process. In the healing process, I have learned to see deeper into myself to find the reasons that I responded to these men as I did. My future blogs are going to be focusing on that healing process and leading to my present life today, but I want to take a moment and reflect on these two men who played such dramatic parts in my life.
First, I want to give my description of my husband. My husband is an hypocritical man, with very low self-esteem, that was unfortunately, born into a family that has never known how to love or show love. Therefore, he has never been taught how to love. He was raised by a manipulative mother whom was controlling and demeaning to not only her children, but her husband as well. She became pregnant in the 50’s with Chris’s oldest brother by another man, that said man died in a car accident early into her pregnancy, she soon after meet Chris’s father on a blind date, slept with him and convinced him the baby was his. He naturally married her and though they NEVER slept in the same bed together, she interestingly found a way to become pregnant every couple of years until she bore five sons. By the time the youngest was born, the oldest was in his 20’s. Soon after the youngest reached mid teens, Chris’s father died of a mysterious and unknown illness that left him paralyzed and a mute for the last two years of his life. By all stories told in the communities, Chris’s father had been a gregarious, out going, handsome young man before meeting Chris’s mom. Chris’s mom, however, was shy, a loner and withdrawn. AFter their marriage, some of Chris’s dad’s childhood friends have stated, his dad’s mentality began to change and after just a few short years he was an angry, bitter, ill, loner himself. There are no family portraits in their family, only pictures of Chris, his brothers and their mom. If Dad is in any of them, it is in the background. All of Chris’s brothers and Chris himself only have memories of their Dad yelling at them and always spanking the oldest. By the time Chris and the youngest came along, their dad’s illness was creeping in.
Chris’s mom is full of piss and venom, and the 11 years I spent around her, I never heard her utter a positive word, or even anyone in the community utter a positive word about her. She was always spiteful, talking ugly to people and behind their backs and never had any friends. Her days, since her husbands death, were spent sitting in an empty house, staring at blank walls. I even remember my husband, on several different occasions, telling me if he ever became that negative to just put him in his grave, to not let him live to be that miserable. (this was his MOM he was talking about)
With the family background, its easy to see why my husband was so cold and distant. In the beginning, it touched my heart that he had never known or felt REAL love and it was my goal to make sure he did. I was in that “oh I can change him, mode” in the early stages of our dating.
You see, I was born to parents who never should have had children. I did not have a bad childhood, my parents did not want me, divorced, went their separate ways and left me to be raised by my Grandparents. My Grandparents were angels on earth, but they were not huggy, touchy people: they showed me their love by supplying a warm home, hot meals and buying me ice cream. That, in turn, is how I learned to love, by acts of kindness for others. This did not mesh with my husbands need to constantly be touching me, holding me, asking me where I was going and not even letting me leave him alone in the living room for five minutes. Early in our relationship, this kind of banter was suffocating to me. If I were on the couch, he needed to be next to me, holding my hand in a death grip: if I left the room to get a drink of water, he would ask where I was going and go with me to the kitchen….I viewed this as controlling and suffocating. I, on the other hand, would spend hours upon hours, cleaning his home, buying his groceries, cooking his favorite meals, making sure his fav TV shows were turned to at the right time, etc. This was my way of showing my love: his negativity and harsh words in response to me doing those things crushed my heart and only made me feel less loved.
It was our love languages and the differences in our backgrounds, even present in the beginning of the relationship, that was the pitfall of our marriage. I never felt good enough, he found power in making me feel less than special and thus began a vicious circle. My lack of family in my childhood has always left an emptiness that I never wanted my children to feel. My marriage to their Dad destroyed by divorce, I did not have the strength or the motivation to end this viscous circle for fear of hurting and damaging my children.
So I began to change me. I deleted friends from my life, changed my personality to what I thought my husband wanted me to be, gained a lot of weight and gave up believing in myself. My husband was at great fault for the verbal abuse he put me through, but only I am to blame for allowing him to take away my confidence and control me with harshness.
I never could understand why I was never good enough? Why he never seemed to love me after he won my heart? All I ever wanted was to feel protected, loved, admired, RESPECTED….respected is the big word. He never offered any of those emotions, ever. He was too wrapped up in a mentally deranged image of himself that he wanted to present to the public. My husband is literally a hypocrite. He would tell me for hours, what a damaged mess I was, I was the devil, I was a liar, a looser, a piece of garbage: while in the all honesty, he was only talking about himself and deflecting those things on me. He would go in the public, bible thumps that he was, speak articulately, always smile and offer polite compassion and words of encouragement to everyone, he was a deacon at church, attended every bible study class there was, president of his rotary club, president of the FDA and was always volunteering for some charity benefit. We walked in public, hand in hand, smiling at everyone, as I stood quietly to the side and let him take the lime light. Others would gossip about me behind my back, I was called snobby, not very friendly, heart less, cold, etc. My husband never drank in public, unless he was out with his guy friend, never cursed, or showed any inclination of inappropriateness, ever.
Behind closed doors, his favorite name for me was “you stupid bitch”, he would have me venture to the local ABC 3-4 times a week and purchase him Canadian Mist all the while telling others in the community that I had a drinking problem: he smoked cigars, belittled myself and my children and talked nasty about everyone behind their back.
He was heartless and cold. His older brother died in 2006 and I never saw a tear fall from his eyes. Not one! INstead, he stood at the door to the chapel, before the funeral, making sure to shake everyone’s hand that entered, and thank them for coming: that same night, he drank almost a fifth and downed every person that he had been so polite to their face.
All the while I was battling my alcoholism, grieving the loss of my friend and my job-he was in the public, nastily telling others about my problems and berating me to others. After the affair with R. was discovered, he was quick to call me a slut, trash, etc. He accused me of giving him a Veneral Disease and took no time in telling his friends in family about the affair, all the while, he had been involved in his own discrepancies for two years.
How could I have ever loved such a fraud? Was my heart and life so sad and empty that I was easily manipulated by this man who, obviously, suffers from severe mental illness?
It hurts to know I gave so much of my life to him: it hurts to know how much effort I put into our marriage, how desperately I wanted him to love me and how easily he returned every picture, every memory, and walked away. It hurts to know I was willing to sacrifice myself and my children, for such an ass. I don’t miss him at all, I miss the husband and the man that I wanted him to be!