Monday, February 19, 2018

Sometimes Things Just Won't Ever Be the Same, No Matter How Hard You Try


In hindsight there are so many instances that left me feeling empty, alone, scared, distraught, frustrated, broken, and just downright defeated. These instances accumulated as the days passed by and with every fight and argument that happened, the rug that we kept sweeping crap under no longer covered the resentment and anger. Day in and day out, the tension built up, and the slightest disagreement was a war that turned into complete silence for days. I continued to bury myself in work and tried my hardest to hold my head up and keep myself together. I posted pictures on social media that demonstrated a life that I not only wasn't living, but the people in the pictures I no longer knew; they looked like complete strangers to me. But as much as I felt like my life was falling apart...and it WAS falling apart I painted the pretty picture everyone often does.


As the fights became more frequent I started confiding in people, especially my parents, because I didn't know what else to do. The therapy wasn't working...AT ALL, which was so frustrating because I knew that was our last hope we had of turning this mess around. Deep down I knew while I could improve things on my part, unless he admitted to being the abusive person he was, our marriage was never going to survive no matter how hard I tried and no matter how much I wanted it.
May 5th - it was a good day, well, and good in the sense that we hadn't fought in the last 24 hours (sad, huh?). We got in the car and headed to a friends house for a birthday celebration. Everything seemed ok for awhile and I noticed a shift in his mood. He sat by the fire on his phone hardly engaging with anyone after awhile and I made the decision to head home at that point. Deep down I had that gut feeling that a fight was on the horizon so part of me was anxious to leave the "safe zone" of the party with my friends surrounding me but the other part of me thought maybe this time would be different and I was just being paranoid. As I said my good-byes I noticed he was nowhere to be found and I waited out front of the house trying to figure out where he had gone. I called him and he told me he was in the car, I asked him to pull around the front of the house and he told me no that I could walk to the car myself (at that moment I knew where this was going). I got in the car and didn't say a word; I figured it was probably best at this point to just diffuse the situation by not engaging.....WRONG.

I took my phone out as we pulled away and started flipping through my social media. He started yelling at me for being on my cell phone and not engaging with him. I tried to take deep breaths and not engage....but his complaints about me being on my cell phone turned into his usual put downs and name-calling. He proceeded to tell me that I was anti-social and a square and I was boring him to death; he told me that I'm not capable of talking to my own husband and that I'm supposed to entertain him. He went back to complaining about me being on my phone. At that point I stated that he was on the phone at the party, what was the difference? I really should have just kept my mouth shut because that only made him more upset. He then turned the radio up to the loudest volume it could go. Mind you he had been drinking and it was midnight at this point and the last thing either of us needed was an accident or a cop pulling him over. I reached over and turned the radio down because I didn't want it to be a distraction, plus it was so loud it was hurting my ears and head for that matter. He turned it all the way back up telling me "Don't touch my fucking stuff!" I said, "You've been drinking and having the radio that loud is just an accident waiting to happen or a red flag for a cop" and I reached over and turned it down again. It was then that he grabbed my forearm.

I remember fearing for my life at that moment; not only did he have my arm locked very tightly in his grip and wasn't letting go, he was FUMING angry, had been drinking and was driving. I tried to pull my arm free and told him repeatedly to let me go, that we were going to get into an accident and he just ignored me. He yelled at me as he pulled off the freeway and told me to get the fuck out of his car, that I could find another way home. There was so much going through my head, I was scared, I was pissed, I was confused.....I didn't know what to do because I didn't know what he would do if I reacted any which way. I told him I was not going to get out of the car in the middle of Santa Ana at midnight. He told me he would drop me off at the hospital and I could find a way home from there. At that point I threatened to call the police if he dropped me off and that I would report him drunk driving. You better bet at that moment he got right back on that freeway and drove us home. We didn't speak the rest of the evening, I tossed his pillow out of the bedroom and closed and locked the door. I laid there shaking, crying realizing this is NOT the life that I wanted nor deserved and it was time for me to make a decision.

I packed a bag and hid it in my closet and dozed off to sleep eventually. I woke up the next morning wondering if what happened was real or if I had dreamt it. I somewhat expected him to be humbled and realize what he had done was so wrong. I thought for sure he would apologize out of fear, or something, but instead he walked up to me, told me he was going to his dads and walked out the door. After he left, I grabbed Oscar, my packed bag and I left. I went to my parents house, told them what happened and decided at that moment through swollen, blurry eyes that my marriage was over and I was going to be filing for divorce.

It had been a thought prior to this day but it was merely a thought that I kept pushing out of my head as I thought about my vows......but today was the day that I would admit out loud to not only myself, but my parents, that it was over and my entire body flooded with emotion as my dad squeezed me in his chest and the tears just rolled uncontrollably down my face. There was no going back now....................




Friday, November 3, 2017

4 Years of Chances ... Part 2: Year One to Two of Marriage


"The First Year of marriage is the hardest" ... It's what you hear over and over again from from professionals, from your parents, maybe some of your friends. Hell, it's just a known statement.
I entered into my marriage knowing things were going to get rough at some point or another and that I would NEVER give up. I entered knowing I would always work hard, like I always have in every aspect of my life, to make my marriage work. Except I never knew it would be so hard so early. By early I mean two weeks into it, second red flag that I so naively ignored was waving aggressively in the air. With my husband still out of work, I changed my job to full time hours and continued to take on every invitation side business job I could so that if we needed to I had extra funds to handle the bills. I could see two weeks after our wedding that the "honeymoon phase" was over; or maybe it never even existed when I look back on it. I could see the personality change, the affection lessen, the resentment building but I tried to just keep doing what I could in the situation I was in. Still out of work, I watched as he became frustrated at what I assumed was the fact he could not "provide", or maybe he didn't feel like "the man". I would negotiate my thoughts and feelings daily as he became cold and hard towards me. His expectations started to change and his demands increased with no regard to my feelings or thoughts. I sat working one afternoon after ending an 8 hour day at the office when he bulldozed into the house demanding I help him carry in groceries from the car. Being I was in the middle of something (WORK), I didn't exactly jump to assist him right away which angered him even more. He proceeded to tell me that I never help him, or do anything around the house and that I am a shitty wife for not stopping what I was doing to help him. To this day, I've never gotten over hearing those words come out of my newly wed husband's mouth. I felt like he had slapped me across the face with those words, how could he be so unhappy with me only weeks into this marriage and so insulting without even flinching. I didn't know it at the moment, but that would be the beginning of the end for us. 


Three months went by before he was finally hired at a local mortgage company. I thought that I might be able to breathe again and possibly enjoy this thing called Marriage. Nope, I was wrong. The pressure and manipulation started as he began to push the purchasing a house idea. I owned the condo we lived in and had plans to keep it and rent it out when we were able to purchase a bigger home - we were NOWHERE near that without me selling the condo so I was really not in agreement with the idea. After months of arguing I finally gave in and we purchased a home; I said goodbye to my goal of renting out the condo as an investment property and resentment immediately set in. I spent hours unpacking, packing with the help of my parents (not my husband), all while working full time, prepping the condo for sale, running an invitation business and trying my best to fulfill my duties as a wife.



I was already unhappy but trying my best to hide it and just blame it on all the stressors in my life. We decided now was a good time to head to Kauai for our "honeymoon". We packed our bags in hopes that this trip would rekindle what we once shared and felt. WRONG AGAIN. The tension was always there - we were simply trying to bury it and sweep it under the rug hoping paradise would erase it all. That's not how it works. Day two of Kauai my life in my marriage changed forever and to be honest changed me forever. I no longer saw my husband, I saw a monster; someone who looked through me not at me, who saw me as an object not a person, who used me instead of loving me. And as I cried he grew more angry with me telling me I was ridiculous. I told him that if his dad could only see how he was talking to me, he would not be happy with him. He replied stating that if his dad knew how much of a Bitch I was being that he would tell him to leave me (doubtful). We spent the day separate because I couldn't bare to look at him and quite frankly I don't think he cared to look at me either. I contemplated packing my stuff and leaving right then but I didn't. By the time we left he had changed his seats for the flight home without telling me. We boarded the plane and I went to my seat as he kept walking to another row without saying a word.


I didn't sleep at all that entire flight - I kept waiting for him to come check on me, make sure I was ok, kiss me, say I'm sorry - something. We landed and as we waited for the car he proceeded to tell me that flying without me was the best part of the trip and called me a bunch of negative things. It was a long drive home - silent drive home as I fought to hold back the tears. We slept separately that night and I knew the next day was do or die.


We woke up and I laid it out there.....Therapy or I'm done. He agreed to go. We chose a therapist and for months tried to mend what I already knew deep down was never going to be repaired. But I tried anyway. By December 2015 (1.5 years after getting married) nothing had changed and we were merely tolerating eachother on a day to day basis. I buried myself in more work and he slipped away by going out with the guys or coworkers more and more. He started bailing on plans we made without even blinking an eye and started sleeping in separate rooms more frequently. Our marriage was slipping away before our very eyes and I grew more and more exhausted, resentful, and I, for the first time in my life felt helpless and alone.


Big Bear April 2016 - last good memory I would make with my husband and family. Those moments would never happen again as life changed for all of us May 5th, 2016. My life would never be the same, everything would end for us that night with ZERO chance of repair - NO MATTER WHAT.