The spell is broken

This time last year, just a month before the Covid-19 pandemic really got started, I’d done the bravest thing - given my husband of 9 years an ultimatum. Get help with your anger and your combat related PTSD or we are over. 

The previous month, two days before he went back to work in the Middle East, the spell he had over me for the past 11 years was finally broken. He broke the camel’s back when he not only threatened to leave me with nothing, as was customary during his tirades when he berated and belittled me, but this time he threatened to leave our son with nothing as well.

I ruminated on those words. They had been said, they couldn’t be unsaid. Not that he tried to unsay them. He never apologises for the horrible things he says. Never shows any remorse.

A few days later he was back at work and we argued over something trivial and he said “you know what, I’ve had enough”. And there it was, my chance. I replied “you know what, so have I, you need to get help or we’re done”.

As usual, he tried to turn things around on me so I used the one defence I have when he’s away; I hung up the phone. It’s something he taught me to do as he’s done it to me so many times. I think it’s horrible, it feels so incredibly rude. Well, because it is. And then as usual, he called me back over and over and over and over. Over the years, and it’s taken me a few, I’ve learnt that I don’t need to pick up, nor should I. Because the times that I have, he doesn’t miss a beat and just continues on with whatever rant or tirade it was that I’d felt the need to hang up on.

Fast forward a year, he’s had a fair load of therapy for his PTSD which does seem to have made a difference with his control over his anger. We’ve had a few sessions of couples therapy which ended with me firing the therapist. I’ve done a whole load of work on myself just in terms of processing everything that I’ve been through. I’m still coming to terms with the fact that I’ve been in an abusive marriage and only recently realised that I may have been groomed right from the beginning. I’ve realised that I would appear to have some serious self worth issues and that I need some professional help with fixing that, so I’m just about to embark on my own therapy. I met my therapist the other day and I told her my story. She almost cried. And then she said that this space would be all about me. Then I almost cried. It felt so decadent to have a space just for me, like I didn’t deserve it. That was eye-opening for me in and of itself.

The couples therapist had one private session right at the beginning of couples therapy with me and because I had tears running down my face for pretty much the whole 50 minutes, he prescribed me antidepressants. But I don’t think I’m depressed. I cried the whole time because in less than 5 minutes he summed up most of my feelings and validated all the hard work I’ve been doing walking on eggshells for the past way too many years trying to keep my husband happy and failing in his eyes at every turn over the past few years. I cried because I’m sad and disappointed that my husband has felt that it’s okay to treat me the way he’s treated me, that he only seems to see and assume the worst of me, whereas a complete stranger can immediately see and recognise everything I’ve been doing to support my husband over the years. But I don’t feel depressed. I feel anger and resentment deep down inside and I know I’ve got work to do to really recognise and deal with those feelings. 

And then today I finally started something for me. Something I’ve wanted to do for many many years. Today I started the first of over 3,000 hours of a coding course. Deep down I’ve always wanted to be a computer programmer and now at 46 years old, I’m going to do it. 

My plan is to fill in the gaps of my story over the next few weeks while updating on how things are currently going. So here we go, here’s to the beginning of the next 46 years of my life!