Hi Kathy,
Thank you for inviting me to your forum.
I did a search on "verbal abuse" and the first line is the abuser's classic line. "If you only knew how much I love you."
Verbal abuse is 1 step closer to physical abuse. I know. I've been there. Thank God I got out before the hitting started.
To not be able to talk to my family, or be allowed to have contact with neighbors, to be told I had to stay inside and not allowed outside unless he was with me, to be told that he thought more of his dog than he did of me -- ah, but I did get the very last laugh and what a funny ending to a horrible marriage.
The evening before I left him, he told me that he loved his dog more than he cared about me. That was the final straw. For supper the next night, I fixed a very large southern meal -- one of his favorites. He was in the bedroom on his computer (where he practically stayed the entire time). I set the table with candlelight and turned on some soft music, fixed his plate & mine and then I put the dog's food & water dish where I normally sat. I grabbed my plate and iced tea and sat down on the floor where the dog's bowls usually sat and called him to dinner. (I was heartily eating my dinner, and enjoying the heck out of it, because I knew there was fixing to be a major battle!)
I wish I had had my camera when he walked into the dining room -- he absolutely roared! "WHAT THE H**L ARE YOU DOING DOWN THERE AND WHY IS THE DOG FOOD ON THE TABLE?" Well, the dog -- a chow mix was running around with her little ears perked up and I declare, she would have laughed if she could have! "Well," said I, in the most honeyed dripping voice I could muster, "you think so much of that dog of yours, I think you need to eat with the B****!"
Hooo! Did he get ticked off! His plate went flying across the room (and thank goodness I had already decided that I was leaving or I'd have had to clean it up!) He started screaming at me to leave, that he'd had it with me, that I was stupid, etc., etc...
So, I finished my dinner with a grin on my face, wiped my mouth and set the plate on the floor for the dog to lick. I know, I could have just as easily put it on the counter, but what the hey, I was leaving, right?! :D YIPEE! The jerk was giving me permission to get out! (Like I needed it?) It took me 1 hour to pack everything I owned into a very small car -- front to back and stuffed to the hilt! I'd already packed most of my stuff before he came home from work anyhow!
I'm happy to say that I knew it was time to leave. It took me over a year to get over the mental abuse I suffered at his hands.
So, Ladies (and Gents, because some of you go through abuse as well), do get out of your situation -- call a friend and stay with them for a while, or a family member, or someone you feel you can trust. Believe me, there is not one person on this planet who should have to suffer this type of degrading, demeaning, self-esteem blowing, mind-controling behaviour from ANYONE!
Kathy, love to you for posting this and getting the message out. It truly is an awful way to live, and they NEVER change.
Denise B.
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