Post by Lizzie on Feb 1, 2017 6:00:04 GMT
Hi, I'm not sure if I belong here, or if I even want help or deserve it. I don't know what to think anymore. I just feel like I can't trust anyone around me anymore.
Im sorry in advance, this is a long story: I'm 31 and I've been married for 4 years. We have both wanted kids since before our wedding, but we found out right after that we are both carriers for cystic fibrosis. Which means a 1-in-4 chance of having a baby with it. I had felt compelled to get tested because I grew up watching my cousin (my best friend) suffer with cystic fibrosis and die at only 19 years old. I told my husband right off that I didn't want to take the risk. There is prenatal testing, but I could never have an abortion. We talked about different options but he wants a biological child. So we agreed to wait until we could afford IVF so we could have pre-implantation genetic diagnosis testing. The first year was hard, but we were both doing everything we could to save money.
Then just after our first anniversary, we took a trip to Reno with some friends. He put $20 in a slot machine and won $4200. We were so excited. It brought us over the halfway point of what we needed to save for the IVF. A few months after that, I noticed money was missing from the savings account. Like $5000. I asked him where it was and he said, "just a short-term investment". He said it was supposed to be a surprise. It made no sense to me and I told him so. I tried to get him to elaborate and he got angry and shut down. I left. The next day, he called me and confessed that he'd gambled it away! I was so furious, I didn't come back for a week. He was calling every day, crying and begging for forgiveness and for me to come home. He swore he would never touch our savings again. I wanted to believe it, and I loved him, so I finally said ok.
He kept his promise at first, but he started drinking a lot and getting really moody. He got into an argument with our neighbor one day about their new dog barking at night and threatened if they didn't "shut it up", he would do it for them. Later I tried to reason with him, I said maybe the dog will stop once it gets used to being in a new place, because it had come from an animal shelter. He yelled at me, "Not my problem!" and then he stormed into the bathroom and punched a wall! I told him he had better get his temper and his drinking under control or I was gone. He disappeared into the garage and came out a few hours later, crying, kissing me, promising to stop. He poured all of his alcohol out, and said he was just feeling so guilty that he couldn't give me what I wanted, a baby. I assured him that I loved him and even if I knew we would never have a baby, I'd still want him.
Things got better for a couple of months, then I found out more money was missing. He was not home at the time, he'd had to work late he said. He came home that night, stumbling and smelling like a brewery. I said, that's it, and I started packing. I don't think he believed I would really go until I had my bag over my shoulder and started walking to the front door. He grabbed my arm and said, "You can't leave me. Look." And he held up a wad of cash, telling me he'd won it all back, plus more. I told him to let go of me and he held on tighter and said he wouldn't until I promised to stay. I had to threaten to call the police to get him to let go. He said he wanted me to take it and all of the money in our savings and put it into an account under my name only so he couldn't get to it anymore because he knew he had a problem and he was just trying to make it right. I told him I shouldn't have to protect our money from him, I married an adult, not a child. He got an angry look in his eyes and backed me into the wall. Then he hovered over me and said, "Don't ever talk to me like that again." He's 9 inches taller than me so yes it was intimidating. I shoved him to get him out of my way and he slapped me. It was a light slap, it didn't even sting, but it shocked me. I looked up at him and he was crying. He kept saying,"Oh my God, Oh my God, please help me." I don't know why I didn't just open the door and leave right then, I don't know. Instead I hugged him and I promised to help him get help. And I took the money and opened a new account.
He joined AA and stopped going out at night. He went to work and he came home. Over that next year, things got so much better, everything that had happened with his drinking and gambling, felt like just a bad dream. Around that time, he got offered a better paying job, working at the same place as my brother. He wasn't that thrilled with the idea, he said he always felt like my brother was looking over his shoulder as it was. But he took the job, he said he was doing it for me. Only 2 weeks later, I found liquor hidden in his dresser drawer. I felt like we'd come so far, and I didn't want to give up on him. But I confronted him. He was standing at the bathroom sink and I walked up behind him with the bottle and said, "What is this?" He looked at me through the reflection in the mirror but he wouldn't turn around or say anything. I called his name three times and the next thing I saw was the back of his hand coming at me. Glass shattered, I hit the door frame and then the floor. I don't even know how long I was down there. I think I was in shock because I couldn't move.
That was a year ago today and I think that's why I'm here, sharing this. That was the day the words "domestic violence" crossed my mind for the very first time. I knew that's what it was. But I didn't leave him. I knew I should. I told myself, tomorrow, I'll leave tomorrow. Or this weekend. Or after I get a full-time job. But every time I thought about it, I thought, what am I going to tell people? From the outside looking in, we had a great relationship. Friends would tell me they wished they could find someone like him. They didn't know the real him because I would dare tell them the truth. I felt like it was my job as his wife to keep our problems between us, not to spread them around. I also felt ashamed, for having not seen the signs, for not getting him help soon enough. I still do.
So I stayed, and each time it happened again, instead of feeling more compelled to leave I felt more desperate to keep it a secret. Four months ago, he held me face down on the floor with his foot on the back of my neck and hit me across the back with a wooden dowel until it broke in two and cut my arm open. Just seeing that typed out shatters me. And to think I didn't even fight it, I just took it. I felt totally broken. He did it because he'd gambled away his paycheck and I wouldn't give him money.
My brother came over that day, unannounced, which was odd, because he never did. I tried to play like everything was fine, but I felt like he was looking right through me, right into my soul, to the truth. He said, "Something is wrong. What is it? Tell me." And he gently put his hand around my arm, the one that was cut and I winced. He said, "Did he (my husband) hurt you?" I started crying because I couldn't keep it in anymore. I nodded and he asked if he'd hurt me before. I couldn't say anything. I just cried. I left with my brother and I was determined to never look back.
Two days later, I found out that my brother had gone to work the next day and told their boss what he did, and got my husband fired. And apparently, two busybodies got wind of it and made sure everyone else found out. I was absolutely livid. It wasn't his place to tell anyone! And to get him fired on top of it! I know you'll all probably think I'm crazy for this, but I suddenly felt a fierce need to defend my husband. It's stupid, I know. But I called him and said I was sorry about what my brother did. I told him I wasn't coming back but I still loved him and didn't think he deserved to have his life ruined. He said he understood and wouldn't ask me for another chance because he didn't deserve it. But he kept calling, just to talk and see how I was doing. A month later, I filed for divorce, and I agreed to meet up at a restaurant with him to talk about it. I don't know what's wrong with me, but he sucked me right back in. He knew everything I wanted to hear and he said it all. We ended up in bed together.
And now, I'm here, back in his house. The divorce is still in process, and I haven't stopped it, but I haven't been going forward with it either. He hasn't laid a hand on me since that last day and he says he hasn't had a drop of alcohol. God, I feel so damn stupid! I know in my head not to trust him, but I want so desperately to believe him!
I'm sorry if I've upset anyone. I just feel like everything is upside down.
Im sorry in advance, this is a long story: I'm 31 and I've been married for 4 years. We have both wanted kids since before our wedding, but we found out right after that we are both carriers for cystic fibrosis. Which means a 1-in-4 chance of having a baby with it. I had felt compelled to get tested because I grew up watching my cousin (my best friend) suffer with cystic fibrosis and die at only 19 years old. I told my husband right off that I didn't want to take the risk. There is prenatal testing, but I could never have an abortion. We talked about different options but he wants a biological child. So we agreed to wait until we could afford IVF so we could have pre-implantation genetic diagnosis testing. The first year was hard, but we were both doing everything we could to save money.
Then just after our first anniversary, we took a trip to Reno with some friends. He put $20 in a slot machine and won $4200. We were so excited. It brought us over the halfway point of what we needed to save for the IVF. A few months after that, I noticed money was missing from the savings account. Like $5000. I asked him where it was and he said, "just a short-term investment". He said it was supposed to be a surprise. It made no sense to me and I told him so. I tried to get him to elaborate and he got angry and shut down. I left. The next day, he called me and confessed that he'd gambled it away! I was so furious, I didn't come back for a week. He was calling every day, crying and begging for forgiveness and for me to come home. He swore he would never touch our savings again. I wanted to believe it, and I loved him, so I finally said ok.
He kept his promise at first, but he started drinking a lot and getting really moody. He got into an argument with our neighbor one day about their new dog barking at night and threatened if they didn't "shut it up", he would do it for them. Later I tried to reason with him, I said maybe the dog will stop once it gets used to being in a new place, because it had come from an animal shelter. He yelled at me, "Not my problem!" and then he stormed into the bathroom and punched a wall! I told him he had better get his temper and his drinking under control or I was gone. He disappeared into the garage and came out a few hours later, crying, kissing me, promising to stop. He poured all of his alcohol out, and said he was just feeling so guilty that he couldn't give me what I wanted, a baby. I assured him that I loved him and even if I knew we would never have a baby, I'd still want him.
Things got better for a couple of months, then I found out more money was missing. He was not home at the time, he'd had to work late he said. He came home that night, stumbling and smelling like a brewery. I said, that's it, and I started packing. I don't think he believed I would really go until I had my bag over my shoulder and started walking to the front door. He grabbed my arm and said, "You can't leave me. Look." And he held up a wad of cash, telling me he'd won it all back, plus more. I told him to let go of me and he held on tighter and said he wouldn't until I promised to stay. I had to threaten to call the police to get him to let go. He said he wanted me to take it and all of the money in our savings and put it into an account under my name only so he couldn't get to it anymore because he knew he had a problem and he was just trying to make it right. I told him I shouldn't have to protect our money from him, I married an adult, not a child. He got an angry look in his eyes and backed me into the wall. Then he hovered over me and said, "Don't ever talk to me like that again." He's 9 inches taller than me so yes it was intimidating. I shoved him to get him out of my way and he slapped me. It was a light slap, it didn't even sting, but it shocked me. I looked up at him and he was crying. He kept saying,"Oh my God, Oh my God, please help me." I don't know why I didn't just open the door and leave right then, I don't know. Instead I hugged him and I promised to help him get help. And I took the money and opened a new account.
He joined AA and stopped going out at night. He went to work and he came home. Over that next year, things got so much better, everything that had happened with his drinking and gambling, felt like just a bad dream. Around that time, he got offered a better paying job, working at the same place as my brother. He wasn't that thrilled with the idea, he said he always felt like my brother was looking over his shoulder as it was. But he took the job, he said he was doing it for me. Only 2 weeks later, I found liquor hidden in his dresser drawer. I felt like we'd come so far, and I didn't want to give up on him. But I confronted him. He was standing at the bathroom sink and I walked up behind him with the bottle and said, "What is this?" He looked at me through the reflection in the mirror but he wouldn't turn around or say anything. I called his name three times and the next thing I saw was the back of his hand coming at me. Glass shattered, I hit the door frame and then the floor. I don't even know how long I was down there. I think I was in shock because I couldn't move.
That was a year ago today and I think that's why I'm here, sharing this. That was the day the words "domestic violence" crossed my mind for the very first time. I knew that's what it was. But I didn't leave him. I knew I should. I told myself, tomorrow, I'll leave tomorrow. Or this weekend. Or after I get a full-time job. But every time I thought about it, I thought, what am I going to tell people? From the outside looking in, we had a great relationship. Friends would tell me they wished they could find someone like him. They didn't know the real him because I would dare tell them the truth. I felt like it was my job as his wife to keep our problems between us, not to spread them around. I also felt ashamed, for having not seen the signs, for not getting him help soon enough. I still do.
So I stayed, and each time it happened again, instead of feeling more compelled to leave I felt more desperate to keep it a secret. Four months ago, he held me face down on the floor with his foot on the back of my neck and hit me across the back with a wooden dowel until it broke in two and cut my arm open. Just seeing that typed out shatters me. And to think I didn't even fight it, I just took it. I felt totally broken. He did it because he'd gambled away his paycheck and I wouldn't give him money.
My brother came over that day, unannounced, which was odd, because he never did. I tried to play like everything was fine, but I felt like he was looking right through me, right into my soul, to the truth. He said, "Something is wrong. What is it? Tell me." And he gently put his hand around my arm, the one that was cut and I winced. He said, "Did he (my husband) hurt you?" I started crying because I couldn't keep it in anymore. I nodded and he asked if he'd hurt me before. I couldn't say anything. I just cried. I left with my brother and I was determined to never look back.
Two days later, I found out that my brother had gone to work the next day and told their boss what he did, and got my husband fired. And apparently, two busybodies got wind of it and made sure everyone else found out. I was absolutely livid. It wasn't his place to tell anyone! And to get him fired on top of it! I know you'll all probably think I'm crazy for this, but I suddenly felt a fierce need to defend my husband. It's stupid, I know. But I called him and said I was sorry about what my brother did. I told him I wasn't coming back but I still loved him and didn't think he deserved to have his life ruined. He said he understood and wouldn't ask me for another chance because he didn't deserve it. But he kept calling, just to talk and see how I was doing. A month later, I filed for divorce, and I agreed to meet up at a restaurant with him to talk about it. I don't know what's wrong with me, but he sucked me right back in. He knew everything I wanted to hear and he said it all. We ended up in bed together.
And now, I'm here, back in his house. The divorce is still in process, and I haven't stopped it, but I haven't been going forward with it either. He hasn't laid a hand on me since that last day and he says he hasn't had a drop of alcohol. God, I feel so damn stupid! I know in my head not to trust him, but I want so desperately to believe him!
I'm sorry if I've upset anyone. I just feel like everything is upside down.
