KITTERZTOO.COM: Lose the Battle, Win the War: Part 1

kitterztoo

Lose the Battle, Win the War: Part 1

For those of you who don't know, I have had chronic migraines for many years. Add to that some painful conditions on top of that, and you can pretty much call it It-hurts-like-hell, Please-make-it-stop Syndrome. I was on quite a lot of morphine from my college days, right up to getting pregnant. Two children, and Fentanyl patches later, I had to go to a special migraine hospital wing to strip all my medications off and start over. It sucked. Physical withdrawal is nasty, but in the end it sure as hell was better. No more narcotics for me. What I didn't expect was to "wake up" to my life again. I felt I was in my 20s instead of late 30s. My development was arrested from all the narcotics.

I soon realized I had a husband who was more of a caretaker than a partner. I blame myself for that happening. It was a role he didn't ask for, let alone want, but he accepted it. It was a matter of survival. When I started becoming more independent and functional, it scared him. I really don't think he was ready for it. When I got my depression under control last summer, he soon realized I had a personality. I don't think he was ready for that either. Who was this woman he was married to?

It was as if I woke up back to my life in my mid to late 20s. I was defining who I was, deciding a path to take. This hasn't sat well with my husband, "R", who really needs to control things, not from a domineering aspect, but from an anxiety aspect. If he can control all the players in his life, he won't be uneasy. I've recognized this in him for at least five years now. He never wanted to see it, or get help. I can't make a person do anything they don't want to do. In all fairness he did go (unwillingly) to a therapist for his severe anger issues. That took work, and I am very proud he has gotten control over that. He then promptly stopped going at the same time he bailed on marriage counseling that he wanted me to go to. The result is I'm still not an equal partner. I have no access to money without asking permission. I can't go anywhere without telling him (usually more than once). I'm constantly told what to do, how to do things, and I have to repeat what I'm going to do several times. The way he treats me and the things he says about me are biting. I'm feel wounded and then I avoid fighting back or even standing up to him. The result? I found myself stifling every aspect of my personality. I became a non-entity. I had no voice. When I did express an opinion, I was ridiculed. I started to wish he'd hit me so I could leave. Fuck that. I'm not waiting.

I warned R I was going to see a lawyer to determine my options. He immediately went to therapy again. That's great. Seriously, it is a good thing for him. Unfortunately, I was done. The damage is unrepairable. I set the appointment with a lawyer to see what my options were. R, of course, went along since he was the only one who had access to all the bills and accounts. Walking into the office, I could feel my heart racing and pain in my chest. I knew I was nervous, but I didn't let that show. All that showed is "unfeeling bitch" exterior. I hadn't pulled that one out in nearly 20 years. Dusted it off, and made it look like I didn't care. No emotion showing, nothing. I was going to follow this through, because I was serious. It wasn't a joke or an idle threat.

When I sat down in front of the lawyer and began to tell him I was looking for options for separation or for divorce. R pulled out a copy of the budget, including debt and assets. Slowly it became apparent alimony would only be 3-5 yrs in a step down scale. I had no job, and no assets. Having joint custody would require me to pay for child support. Since I wasn't paying the mortgage, he would get the house. I started to feel panicky. The lawyer mentioned government assisted housing, and food stamps. I soon realized there wasn't any assets, and there was debt I didn't really know about. The lawyer tried to figure out a way to do even do a legal separation including filing for bankruptcy. That didn't seem to work either as he earned too much money. Then the conversation turned to health insurance. I would suddenly have none. I believe his insurance has a clause that wouldn't cover legally separated spouses. With no income, there would be no way for me to live on my own. I was screwed. I knew Medicaid didn't cover 3 of my most expensive medications, and they didn't approve/allow one of my doctors, if not two, that I currently see. As I stood up to leave, the lawyer shook both our hands and apologized that there wasn't anything more he could do to help. R turned to him and said "That's okay. I didn't want a divorce anyway." It was a knife twist in my gut; The final "Fuck you."

I walked out the door into the rain, wanting to get into the SUV as soon as possible. The rain gave me an excuse. I sat there behind the wheel, stunned. I was screwed. I knew I was stuck. I said the words out loud, "He won". He called my bluff and he won. I began to sob uncontrollably. I knew exactly what this meant. At this moment, the only way out was to be homeless on the street, and off of all my medications. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry out and ask the universe why I was forced to stay in the marriage. Was I being punished? As I struggled to breathe, the tears began to sting my cheeks while I drove home. I just kept saying over and over, "I'm trapped. I'll never get away." I fleetingly thought about driving full speed into the concrete overpass, but knew my girls needed their mother. I don't remember the entire drive home. I only remember the urgency to get home mixed with thoughts of just driving until I ran out of gas. Unconsciously, I held my breath as I tried to pull out the emotional and physical pain in my chest.

As soon as I got home, I tossed my notebook on the couch, dropped my purse on the floor and kicked off my shoes. I headed straight to the bedroom and literally flopped onto my stomach on my bed. Burying my face into the pillow, I screamed. It was the most guttural scream of desperation. The same scream I wanted to express as a child, but couldn't. I was trapped in that house as a child. I couldn't escape until I turned 18 years old and went to college. Once again, that feeling was here. I hated it. Loathed it. Wanted it out of me. I never wanted to feel trapped in a situation ever again.

As I cried all of my pain out, I made a plan. My favorite quote of all time is by George Eliot.

"It's never too late to be what you might have been."

It's so true. Knowing that, I decided I was going to try and live a life with a voice. I was going to become essentially, me. All of the things I was suppressing, I was going to allow to exist. I know what it is, my rebirth. Allow my real self to come out. Experiment and find out what my passion is in life. It requires strength to stand up for myself, and fight for what I want. I'm willing to do that. I have to. R was not going to control me anymore. I'm not going to let him. I may have lost the battle, but I'm not giving up on winning the war.

To be continued...