Writing it down

I purchased blog space a couple years ago, but couldn’t bring myself to make that first move. I couldn’t put it in words where someone else could read it. Where someone could possibly judge me, or think Im lying or worst of all Ex might find it. Ex would have to be researching Narcissism to even remotely come across this blog. Not a likely thing to happen. But still, 23 years of living under someone else’s near constant anger leaves indelible marks that are not easy to wash away. Those marks have changed me. In some ways for the better. I’m way more cautious now. I have had no desire to date. I have learned to walk on solid feet. My house is eggshell free. But those marks have changed me. In some ways not so better. It’s been 4 years since I found his love letter written to the married woman at work and Im terrified to date because I could end up attracting another man who lives to control and belittle. I would rather be on my own than live that again. Those marks are a doubled edged sword.

If Im honest, I haven’t completely given up on walking on eggshells. Communicating with Ex takes me right back there. Anxiety, fear, second guessing everything. Im still struggling a bit to talk about my personal feeling and how truly harsh and unloving he was to my kids.

It seems so silly. When I read that 399 had been killed, all the suppressed emotions just bubbled to the surface and I wanted to write it down. All the memories. All the things Ive kept secret for so many years. Ex drilled it into my head, our kids heads. His public image matters more to him than anything. Don’t make him look bad. ‘How do you think that makes me look?’ Actually your actions make you look pretty darn bad and I don’t care anymore who knows it.

Im not looking for sympathy. I keep thinking about all the women out there who are living the life I lived. Covering up for, making excuses for, lying for their men who walk in from the outside, shut the front door of their house and remove their Mr Nice Guy mask they have been wearing all day, exposing the mean, angry man looking to land his pent up frustrations. Those men spend every day diligently working 2 jobs simultaneously. The job that earns the paycheck and the non-paying play acting job, pretending they are someone they are not, having spent all his time in public suppressing his angry feelings because showing his coworkers and neighbors would expose his true black heart. Image is everything. Their man comes home exhausted from working both those jobs. And with the slamming of the front door, she and her kids pay the price.

Can you imagine how taxing it must be for a person with so much pent up rage to put on a stellar theatrical performance all while simultaneously working your 9-5?

We lived fairly close to Ex’s job site for most of our marriage. So he would be home from work around 5:30 every afternoon. The living room, kitchen, dining area completely emptied around 5:15 everyday. On the off chance he arrived a little earlier, kids were scrambling to gather their things to run to their rooms before he walked in the door.

Our last home together has a gas fireplace, which Ex did not want ran, ever. Ex set the temperature for furnace and air conditioner as soon as we moved in. Cold in the winter, hot in summer. In the winter it would be freezing in the house when the two youngest and I got home every afternoon. We turned the fireplace on to warm the downstairs up. We have a little Jack Russell terrier who made a bee line straight to the warmth every time. God forbid we ever forgot to turn it off before Ex came home from work. He walked strait in the door without passing go, walked to the fireplace, used his foot to move the dog away from the fireplace, stating angrily, ‘Im not paying to warm a white rat’s ass’, then he would slap the wall switches hard making a loud slapping noise, to turn the fireplace off. Then move around white gloving the house. Sigh

One particular memory that stands out, I was making dinner. Chicken breast cooking in the oven. My plan was to cook the chicken in the oven, then cut it up and brown it the in pan with the veggies for stir fry. The house is open concept so the down stairs is mostly one very large room. Ex walked in from work without saying a word, walked to the oven and opened it. He then turned to me and growled what is this shit? That chicken isn’t edible. It’s white and disgusting. Then told me Im a horrible cook and that I lied before we were married when I told him I could cook. Next he angrily yelled at the two youngest to get their shoes on, they were going to Costco for pizza. I finished the meal at home all alone. Ex ate the stir fry in silence after work for dinner the next night.

These were every day occurrences.

I only remember asking him once if he speaks to his co- workers the way he comes home and speaks to me? He paused for a few seconds, I guess to formulate a good one two punch, then said of course not, I respect my co-workers and they respect me. I would never talk this way to someone I respect. And there you have it.