I am a professional woman in a job which involves amongst other things working in the field of domestic violence. The dynamics which enabled me to help many women and their children who lived with violence, yet not recognise the domestic violence I experienced, are powerful forces. I believe the mechanism of psychological abuse and conscious strategies used by the abuser created these. Like all the women I helped I was someone who became gradually isolated from family and friends and developed a level of self-esteem below the level of 'low'. It has only been in the last year, when precipitating factors led me to face up to the monolith of denial and see the reality I live with, that I have begun to emerge from under the rock I crawled under.

The perpetrator is a very intelligent and educated man with a first degree in psychology. The reason I know that he is very intelligent is that he has constantly told me so through 17 years of marriage. He is, by his own evaluation, insightful, encyclopaedic in his knowledge of law and science. No-one has his capacity for decision making. He works at a high level in a caring profession where he is responsible for the lives of vulnerable children. So it is clearly evident that such a compassionate and successfull man could never ever harm his spouse. It has to be her fault, really, doesn't it?

He first lost his temper when shopping with me and his son (3) from a previous marriage. he bought his son's present in front of him and I carried it up the street. The little boy peeked in and said 'whats that?'. His father shouted at me and lost his temper. Out of the blue, no warning and certainly no rationale. I walked away and went home. He returned with flowers and apologies and I felt guilty for thinking that he might be violent. That was when the alternative reality came under construction.

This man and I had two children. He knew all about children and what was best for them as that was his field. He knew what was best for families. Loyalty above all else. Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty. Can you see the bricks these words are building to contain the abuse?

Money was the other singular preoccupation. He began to get angry with me about it. If I left the room he pursued me, shaking bills and receipts in my face. I tried standing up to him but this got worn away. The bouts of anger increased. I come from another country and on many occassions when I was on the phone to my family he would stand over me, chest puffed up, fists clenched by my side, hissing about money and phone bills. I soon stopped that.

Before we met I was a very independent career girl with a good job. In order to satisfy his need for money I took profoundly menial work.On one such job I was working in a factory and the woman on the machine with me was one of his clients. I developed injuries as a result and payed for my own treatment. He never displayed any empathy.

Over the course of our marriage I got a counselling qualification and 2 degrees and developed a career. On many occasions I had to leave the house to stop him screaming at me, the only way to stop him. The children could hear. In front of them or within their hearing he ranted dreadful things at me. One day he rushed in from work, screaming that I had lost his expensive raincoat. I had learned by now to stand still and say nothing. After a listing of my faults screamed at me with clenched fists he left again. When he returned that evening he was wearing the coat. He laughed and said it was in his office all along. No apology or remorse.

I made a friend of a much older woman who had left a violent relationship many years ago. She somehow persuaded him to renovate, which he did partially. The house was gutted for essential repairs and afterwards I single handedly plastered, repaired and decorated it despite having osteo-arthritis.I was bu now working full time. We were an established couple, the image of a 'good' family, shored up by loyalty and silence. Relatives commented on how unnaturally well behaved and quiet my children were. No boisterous behaviour or childish shouting in our house - things might spiral out of control.

He took one of my sons to football and showed him how to foul without being spotted - barging other children was one technique. (Not that my son ever did.) And I can attest to the fact this is a very painful thing to have done to you. So is being kicked on the back of the leg in a way that shocks the sciatic nerve and disables you. Even more painful if you have sciatica. If you pull some-one's hair it doesn't leave a mark but the next day you can find clumps of hair falling out on your hairbrush and patches of scalp that need covered over. Mind you I asked for that last one. He was standing over me and screaming at me - I made the mistake of walking towards him and pushing him as I thought this would stop it. Last time I ever tried that.

It is possible to 'box' someone on the face hard enough to leave a smarting cheek that is tender for days but does not have a visible injury. Inflicting bruises on arms is good - most women can wear long sleeves to cover them. I was once kicked for no reason as I nodded off to sleep, out of the blue, no reason - the shock left me not just in pain but afraid to move or sleep in case he did it again.

Here's a useful one - the cheek is the hardest part of the body to bruise. I remember he had some training on child abuse. He told me that if a babies face is squeezed in a certain way it doesn'y leave a mark and can be very difficult for professionals to detect. He was genuinely shocked at this. However it came in very useful a few years later when he needed to control me. It's very painful but as he said, (and he is never wrong) it doesn't leave a bruise.

And being such an intelligent and educated man, he is in a position to tell me who I am. This is the hardest bit and the stuff I was able to 'forget'. I am a pathetic little woman, people think I am a joke, I am a fat tit, people know I am aggressive, he'll tell people about me, I am stupid, an embarrassment, a cunt, I need to take a look in the mirror and have a hard look at myself, people are afraid of me, I stink, I haven't a clue about money, I steal his money, no-one likes me, I don't push myself hard enough, ......on and on. On holiday I have to navigate and he screams at me to read signs, slams his hands on my knee, and subjected me to hours of being trapped on busy roads in a car with him where any problem or misdirection was my fault. The children were never allowed to talk.

A really good technique to psychologically intimidate a stupid fat woman is to scream at her an inch from her face. Like they do on t.v. - it's really effective - you get complete control, she shuts down for days but still cooks, cleans and works, and you can revel in the knowledge you can do it any time you want....

Last year I called the police. I had no conscious thought about his, it just happened. Inside my head two seperate dialogues had begun ... one about the reality of the violence and who I really am, the other about the constructed reality of the life I led which involved me as a mother, a woman and a professional being silent and 'loyal' and every thing being under control. I never had enough money to leave and he controlled all important financial matters.His body of knowledge showed how very bad it is for children when their parents split up. But he had 'barged' me again and the quick silent way he did this scared something profoundly in me. That was all. A shove, I phoned the police to warn him off.

I was shocked at what I had done and the 'controlled' me took over and did not press charges. He abused me again after the police left by walking up to me as close as was physically possible and verbally threatening me in a manner to portray his disgust with me.

He went into therapy to get help with his violence and developed new heights of verbal and psychological abuse at home. He followed me to my friend's home and even when I was not there constantly checked with her if I was there. He adjusted and checked, silently, everything I did such as cooking. he constantly checked what I recycled and explained the process to me. On and on and on. One day I took advice from a helpline and was advised to write down the eause and pretend it was client - what would I advise them?

It took a year because each time I put pen to paper my mind switched to thinking about something else. I could not remember. The dual dialogues in my head were constant.

And one day I thought, some months ago, my mind is disintegrating. Like when a computer beeps before it crashes. I have to save my sanity. Memories came back to me over the last few months and words, images, sounds triggered them. It has been horrible and the most horrible bit has been facing up to the extent of 'it'. Then I found large sums of money he had received from investments and hidden from me. Before a holiday during which his sole converstaion was about how little money we have.

I have seen a solicitor and am divorcing him. He has not uttered any remorse or regret or asked about contact with the children. The last statement from hi (yesterday) was could I get on with it he wants to sort his life out. One of my children is ill and he has shown no concern or care for him.

The worst thing he ever did was about the sick child. I discovered that when he was supposed to be looking after the children after school ( I was at work) he was at the computer looking at pornography. I was able to establish times dates and content (the latter was pathetic calender girls crap). But he ignored the children, completely, until I got home. But when I challeneged him he said it was not him but my son, who was 12 at the time ...and then he went and shouted at him.

What I know is that some people actually like me and tell me so ...I have a career, loving children, qualifications and the best divorce solicitor (and the most expensive) I could find in the county!