They say that misery loves company. I don't think that's exactly true. I think misery likes to whine and needs someone to listen. It doesn't want someone to cheer it up. Misery would rather stay in the rut and kvetch about how long it's taking for the tow truck to show up. That is the polar opposite of what this blog is about. This is not about whining or complaining or ex-bashing or blaming. This is about telling a story, my story, for every woman who has been in this situation and has yet to find her voice.
Looking back, things weren't always bad. When I first started dating him, he was one of the most charming guys I'd ever met. I actually bragged about how well he treated me....and it was true, I didn't imagine it. We started out like any newlywed couple raising a 5 year old - tired, distracted, and broke. But we were happy, I think. I can't even really tell you when things changed. But as they progressively got worse, there was only one thing to be done - make sure no one found out.
That whole misery/company thing may work for a lot of people, but I've always been a rebel. When things get bad, it's show time! Spotlight center stage, please. All quiet on the set. Sarah pretending she's happy, TAKE ONE! I read my cue cards perfectly...."Oh, of course everything is all right. We've just been really busy lately. I promise we'll get together soon." Cue smile. And as the audience leaves and the lights dim, my smile fades also and I leave the theater to go back to the prison of my own making. But no matter what, everyone must be held at arms length no matter the cost. No one must know that my life isn't perfect.
For a while, I thought that the problems in my marriage were my prison. Then, during an extended session of reflection, I realized that the real prison was my perfectionism. It forced me to push people away so that they wouldn't see my flaws, my failures, my faults. And the worse things got, the further away I had to push people. Normal people go to their friends and talk things out, get advice, and just fix things. Perfectionists can't do that. We just hide the pain and go on with life until we finally crash and burn because we have nothing left to hold us up.
After this goes on for some time, one day you look around and find that you have acquaintances instead of friends, excuses instead of relationships. This is exactly where I found myself and I had no one to blame....it was all on me. I couldn't tell anyone how bad my marriage was - what would they think? I couldn't say, "You know, I'm pretty sure my husband doesn't love me anymore." I had been so careful not to let them know that anything was amiss, what would they think when I told them that things were falling apart? So being the independent woman that I am, I set out to fix it myself.
Actually, I wasn't fixing anything. I was merely trying to find a way to survive and wait for the storm to pass over. Picture yourself sitting on the beach trying to survive a hurricane with a blanket over your head. No matter what I did, no matter what I said, it was sure to make him angry. And I hated myself every time I gave in and let him win just to make it stop. But what alternative did I have? I had no strength left and I couldn't fight him alone. At one time there were people I could have called, but I had pushed them all away.
There is much, much more to tell, but it will keep for another day. For now, I'll skip to the end....I wasn't alone. Every time I went and sat at my piano with the door closed so he wouldn't know he hurt me again and made me cry, I wasn't alone. There was One there with me through every hurt, every tear, every heartache, though I'd forgotten to ask Him to stay and help me through. It would be further down the road before I really let Him help, but it was enough that He was working things out for when I was ready to open the door and let someone in.
Looking back, things weren't always bad. When I first started dating him, he was one of the most charming guys I'd ever met. I actually bragged about how well he treated me....and it was true, I didn't imagine it. We started out like any newlywed couple raising a 5 year old - tired, distracted, and broke. But we were happy, I think. I can't even really tell you when things changed. But as they progressively got worse, there was only one thing to be done - make sure no one found out.
That whole misery/company thing may work for a lot of people, but I've always been a rebel. When things get bad, it's show time! Spotlight center stage, please. All quiet on the set. Sarah pretending she's happy, TAKE ONE! I read my cue cards perfectly...."Oh, of course everything is all right. We've just been really busy lately. I promise we'll get together soon." Cue smile. And as the audience leaves and the lights dim, my smile fades also and I leave the theater to go back to the prison of my own making. But no matter what, everyone must be held at arms length no matter the cost. No one must know that my life isn't perfect.
For a while, I thought that the problems in my marriage were my prison. Then, during an extended session of reflection, I realized that the real prison was my perfectionism. It forced me to push people away so that they wouldn't see my flaws, my failures, my faults. And the worse things got, the further away I had to push people. Normal people go to their friends and talk things out, get advice, and just fix things. Perfectionists can't do that. We just hide the pain and go on with life until we finally crash and burn because we have nothing left to hold us up.
After this goes on for some time, one day you look around and find that you have acquaintances instead of friends, excuses instead of relationships. This is exactly where I found myself and I had no one to blame....it was all on me. I couldn't tell anyone how bad my marriage was - what would they think? I couldn't say, "You know, I'm pretty sure my husband doesn't love me anymore." I had been so careful not to let them know that anything was amiss, what would they think when I told them that things were falling apart? So being the independent woman that I am, I set out to fix it myself.
Actually, I wasn't fixing anything. I was merely trying to find a way to survive and wait for the storm to pass over. Picture yourself sitting on the beach trying to survive a hurricane with a blanket over your head. No matter what I did, no matter what I said, it was sure to make him angry. And I hated myself every time I gave in and let him win just to make it stop. But what alternative did I have? I had no strength left and I couldn't fight him alone. At one time there were people I could have called, but I had pushed them all away.
There is much, much more to tell, but it will keep for another day. For now, I'll skip to the end....I wasn't alone. Every time I went and sat at my piano with the door closed so he wouldn't know he hurt me again and made me cry, I wasn't alone. There was One there with me through every hurt, every tear, every heartache, though I'd forgotten to ask Him to stay and help me through. It would be further down the road before I really let Him help, but it was enough that He was working things out for when I was ready to open the door and let someone in.
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