Sunday, May 25, 2008
Hi, my name is Sarah*. I am 29 years old and have one 18-month old son, who is the most adorable little boy. I am originally from Brazil, but have lived in the US since I married an american man, three years ago.
This same man, for whom I left my country, family, friends and job, to whom I gave a son, a home and dedicated my life, wants everyone to think I'm crazy. He is putting every possible effort into this.
I don't know when all this started. But I remember being tired from sleepless nights and trying to cope with a newborn who would wake up every night because he was teething, or gassy, or hungry, or had a wet diaper. And I would go see him, and breastfeed, and change a diaper, hold him and massage his stomach or do whatever it took to comfort him. At around 3 am, I was so tired I couldn't even think straight, so I asked my husband, who is more comfortable with waking up early, to take care of the baby when he cried after 4:00, so I could get some sleep, usually until around 7 or 8 am.
This habit quickly turned against me, for sleeping until 8 am meant that I am simply lazy.
As my son grew older and started moving around the house, it became harder and harder to focus on housework. I have never been the perfect housewife and never really cared about spotless countertops, as long as the house was clean and safe for a baby to crawl around. So I do my best to keep things right, but that means leaving a couple dishes in the sink for a few hours until I can get to them. Meanwhile, I will play with my son, pay some bills, take a shower, cook, do the laundry, and pick up toys that somehow get scattered everywhere. I am sure I could keep the house sparkling if I locked my son in his bedroom or just let the TV babysit all day, which in my opinion is not a good habit and not my ideal of parenting. He does not watch TV anyway, so that just means I need to give him more attention.
So, this is also a feature of my personality that got crushed when translated as me being lazy, irresponsible and "doing nothing all day".
I also work full-time at a local government agency. I am really grateful for having this job, since it brings me a sense of fulfillment and pays well, even more I was expecting to make when I was job searching. It is not specifically my area (I have a degree in Advertising) and I am just an assistant, but I love what I do and make the best of it - everyone can see how much effort and dedication I put into my tasks, and I get along well with all my colleagues.
Of course my job bothers my husband in two different ways. The "good thing" is, I'm just an assistant and I make 4 thousand dollars a year less than him, therefore I deserve to be demeaned. The "bad thing" is, I sit at a desk most of the day and in his conception, that means I spend my time filing my nails and chatting on the phone, so I deserve to be demeaned as well because theoretically, I don't work as hard as he does.
Just for the record, I have very few friends and never go anywhere. The few girls I know (hispanics or brazilians, like me) are all married to americans. I don't go out with them by myself and we just limit ourselves to lunch or dinner, usually the couples, and everyone gets along. I don't have a social life outside of this marriage.
Now, every day my husband sits on the same chair and watches me as I walk by. He patiently waits until I'm off the phone or with the computer turned off, so there are no distractions. And then he will start by asking a simple question, such as "have you talked to your mom today" or "what do you want to do this weekend", just to hook me into a conversation. Then he will mention something that is out of place or that I forgot to do and say "when do you plan on doing so-and-so? I got home yesterday/I woke up this morning and the house was a mess/the dishes were on the sink/the bills were unpaid". I will defend myself, saying that I didn't have time because I was doing other things, and then he will start repeating this sentence: "You are full of excuses. I do everything in here. You don't do shit."
At this point, things start getting ugly. In the beginning this would hurt me and I would start crying, but with time I learned to remain calm and say "that's not true". But as I defend myself, he finds the next thing that will hurt me until I lose control and get so upset it's impossible to keep talking.
After he realized that the housework issue was no longer offensive (and after I admitted this is not one of my strengths), he started focusing on the things I like about myself. My passion for life, my spontaneity, the importance of sex in a marriage, the way I try to see the good side of everything. He began criticizing everything that makes me a person, stating that it means irresponsibility, that I don't take life seriously. Then he withheld all kinds of romantic affection, deprived me from any intimacy and refused to have sex with me, based on the premises that such a disorganized and negligent person could not arouse him in any way. To top this, he refrained from sleeping with me in the same bed, spending his nights on the couch, and later, in a spare bed downstairs in the office, which now is his official bedroom, where he also does schoolwork. (his clothes are still in our bedroom, though.)
Although he neglected me, for many months I still felt attracted to him and tried to make my best to keep the house clean as he wanted, in search for his appreciation and affection. But he would still find something else to criticize me for, and use that as an excuse to remain distant. For about three months, things seemed to be normal again and we were getting along, but at times he would still bring up something that would end in a fight with more offenses. I eventually lost any desire I had for him and, although I did not refuse to have sex, I didn't enjoy it as much as I used to and stopped asking for it altogether.
Especially when he was tired from work, he would start arguing about something and get really angry, sometimes raising his voice while cursing, calling me names and pointing his finger at me. In my peaceful, understanding mind, I tried to cope by telling him to get some rest and we'd talk later. I know what it is to be exhausted and wanted to give him time to calm down. As it turns out, being tired is just another excuse for him to treat me the way he does, because even when he is well rested and everything is in place, he still finds some way to hurt me.
About two months ago, we had a discussion about a trip I planned for September 2008 (for myself, him and our son), to see my family in Brazil. For six months (when I first told him what my plans were), he gave one excuse after another for not requesting his vacation at work, until it was too late. I then requested my vacation and bought the tickets for my son and I, and told my husband to decide later. I believe he felt uncomfortable with my resolution and then decided not to go, even though I insisted that we are a family and should do it together. This series of conversations led to more offensive words from his part, and I think I was caught in such a surprise, that I didn't see how much it hurt me.
That's when I first thought about suicide. He made me feel completely worthless, so much that I honestly believed I had no place in life. And I wished I was dead, so he and our son could live in peace without such a shiftless person in the way of their lives.
During the workweek, I felt better. I had my job to distract me and I almost completely forgot about the idea of ending my life. Then on the weekend, another fight, another discussion started by him and more ways to make me feel down. And once again I thought of suicide, but this time as a way to make him realize what he was doing. In my disturbed line of thought, I would find a way to let everyone know he was the reason for my self-destruction, and after I died, he would have to pay by trying to explain how he got such a nice, outgoing person to kill herself... And that was when I decided to seek for help.
That same week I called the Employee Assistance Program and made an appointment to see a counselor. The suicidal thoughts were the most concerning reason for my visit, and the counselor wanted to make sure I was not going to hurt myself - she even recommended that I see a doctor and get a prescription for anti-depressant drugs. I did not welcome this idea but eventually called for an appointment, which I missed because I misplaced the information on my calendar at work. I did not see the doctor after all and did not take any drugs, because I think I'm normal - except when my husband is around.
Another thing he found to make me feel miserable is my passion for cooking. I like good food, cook almost every night and like experimenting new things, or just making the foods my grandmother taught me. I believe cooking is an act of love, and want to show this to my son by using fresh ingredients (instead of pre-packed, industrialized, canned stuff) and making something that tastes delicious and is healthy too. So last Sunday, as I tried to make a new recipe that seemed fairly simple, my husband started asking if I knew the exact quantities or the right speed for the blender - which I didn't, since these details didn't really matter and weren't even mentioned in the recipe. And then he said I should not try to do something I don't know. And that he wasn't going to eat "that shit" if it didn't turned out good. By the way, his mom was standing in the living room and I was completely humiliated right in front of her.
Another weekend and another attempt to hurt myself. This time I desperately looked for any medicine that would be strong enough, but all I found were over-the-counter drugs and vitamins. I think it's important to stress that never in my life I wanted to take drugs for any reason (aside from aspirins, contraceptive, or as prescribed by a doctor). I drink socially, and never had so much alcohol that would make me be sick or unconscious. I don't smoke. I never did illegal drugs and have never been dependent on any substance at all. But that Sunday evening, I looked for anything that could take my pain away, and cursed at my husband for not having strong drugs or a knife that was sharp enough. He told me I didn't need to kill myself, said he was sorry for criticizing my food and slept in bed with me that night.
He has a history of alcohol abuse during high school. He was kicked out of the Navy because of drug use. He had problems with his credit, which took him 5 years and about 60 thousand dollars (from our family money) to fix. Now he disguises as the good father, the perfect hard-worker husband, just to mask his real self as a violent, controlling man who is constantly demeaning and humiliating his wife and doesn't think there is anything wrong with that.
After my third counseling session, my attempts to hurt myself subsided. I realized that I am not any more depressed than I am suffering verbal abuse from the man I vowed to live my life with. I got informed. I went online. I talked to friends, I called my mom, I vented with people I trust.
Until today, I thought I had recovered my self-esteem. But he played his part again, by sitting on the same chair, starting the talk with an innocent question and slowly throwing in the words that hurt me: "You are a worthless piece of shit", " You are a lazy bitch, stayed home all morning and didn't even do the dishes, I have to do everything in this house", "I don't think this counseling shit is going to do anything for us, because we're gonna split up anyway", "I think the baby should stay with me when we divorce, because I don't trust a crazy woman like you to take care of my son", "I wonder how you're going to live when we separate, because you can't even put your shit together right now", "You are a crazy bitch and I don't want someone like you in my life"... this could go on all day.
I asked him to stop. I said he was hurting me with those words, to what he replied "it's just the truth". This time, I got angry. I wanted to hit him with a chair so he would stop talking. I yelled at him to stop. I begged him to stop. And he didn't stop, just kept saying "you're crazy", "you're not gonna hurt me". My husband became my worst nightmare.
He said he wants me out of his life, and I said I'm gonna leave as soon as I find a place to stay. Even when I agree to what he says, he still won't stop. He keeps talking, in hopes that I do something really stupid - such as hurting myself or him, or breaking something - so he can prove how crazy I am. He got experienced in the matter, so he will not even raise his voice anymore. And he won't lift a finger to hurt me, because he knows that would be trouble for him. He just leads me into a state of mind that I can't control.
I sometimes wish he would hit me. A black eye would be enough proof of his abuse. But he knows better, by crushing my soul in a way that only my actions can show - and if it comes from me, people will think I am depressed and/or insane. I am sending this message because there is no physical proof of what he's doing to me, and I need someone to believe me, someone who will help me go through this and stop this violence. I need help. I can't live like this anymore.
* Sarah's name has been changed.
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