Isolation

When we first married, I was pretty outgoing.  I am a people person (who has learned to be an introvert).  I had connected with several people in the church during my first year there.  I think in that year I had collected a dozen "Moms".  Once we were married, he squelched every connection.  Many of the ladies thought  I was a brat very soon after we married. I think "Grandma" K thought I had dropped her and her husband, or that I was suddenly too busy for them. When in reality, I tried every week to go visit them and Brad would say, "wait until I get home, and we can both go.  They are great people and I would like to go see them, too" Then he would come home and after dinner either be too tired or want to visit someone else because "They are at church every service and (others) can't get there all the time."  He was the husband, I was the "submissive" wife, I didn't know what to do...

He convinced me I didn't need to attend the Ladies Bible Studies because we were busy ALL  the rest of the week and he wanted time with me. Never mind he spent all his time in the bathroom or on the computer when we were home.  I got the same "You're going to leave me home alone :( " on the rare occasions that someone invited me to a Ladies night. If by some miracle I was invited to  lunch with someone, I got,"well, I don't know if we can afford it.  And you need to be available if I need you to go with me to visit a widow or someone in the hospital." (things he did often and NEVER took me along, I found out from those people telling me he had visited them and they had missed me.)

All these things, while saying to others "Yeah, she can go to Bible Study, I think it would be great!", "Sure she can go out anytime, it would be good to some things like that with friends." and making excuses about me having headaches or not feeling well... Though I was often down with migraine, many times when he said I was, I wasn't, I just had not been told about those invites.

After about 6 years, I was pretty sure nobody cared or wanted to do anything with me. At 7 years, I stared to realize that he didn't care. When he realized I was ready to take my complaints to the Pastor, he changed ever so briefly. He started taking me with him once in a while during the day time on visits, and he actually agreed for me to start attending the Ladies Bible Study. At 8 years, I suddenly became pregnant, and grandma K passed away... within months of the baby being born, he started to revert to ignoring me, and leaving me home.  Now, everyone was told I was busy with the baby.  After child number two, things quickly plummeted to worse than ever, and continued down hill until I hit bottom.

As I realized I was not an important part of his life, I became more and more frustrated.  I tried harder and harder to please him, but nothing was ever noticed, never mind good enough. As the children got older, I wanted to teach them routine, and tried to encourage things like bedtime and cleaning their rooms, but their father rebelled against those ideas.  Making it near impossible for me to teach them those things.  Fighting losing battles in the struggle to try to train my children, made me more and more angry and frustrated.  Unfortunately, that kind of frustration tends to be taken out on the children.

I became the "mean" parent (the one with rules and consequences) and Daddy was the fun, playful parent (still the case today). The children learned very quickly the different standards we had, and understood that I attempted to be a submissive wife. So about an hour before Daddy would get home everyday, the kids would flip their behavior switch from "Mommy is Boss" to "Daddy is Boss", and I would retreat to solitude.  I could not emotionally handle the running and screaming in the house, that was allowed and encouraged by Brad, even though he knew full well that I couldn't endure that kind of stimulation.

He did it all

I couldn't do anything right.  I wasn't taught to clean, cook, do laundry... anything. The "grandparents" I lived with for a year, tried to show me a few things, but really I was too proud to ask, to admit I really didn't know how to scrub a toilet or tub, or make a bed... I know she would have gladly taught me, if I had asked.  She did make me "cook" occasionally. Mostly setting the pre-measured ingredients out for me, and guiding me on the use of the microwave :)

I learned to cook, by reading the directions-- cookbooks mostly, because he wouldn't let me use a box or a can if he knew, and I wasn't allowed to go to the grocery store alone.  He did put it to me that he wanted us to go together, but I quickly learned that was because he wanted to control what was bought. And everything I made could be improved somehow, even 16 years later, following any instruction he gave, my cooking still had room for improvement in his opinion.

I only had one inedible flop, cheese soup.  He was quick to throw it down the disposal and laugh, at the time I thought with me.  I was so afraid of ruining anything, I followed directions closely, so nothing burned or whatever, but he always had a comment on how I could change it "next time"

Often, if I spent the day cleaning, he'd make comments that evening about the house needing to be cleaned, or would go back and clean behind me.  If we had company over for dinner (a near weekly occurrence), he would argue with me, until I would give in, insisting that he wanted to vacuum, or clean the bathroom as a help to me.  He would promise to be home early, but wouldn't arrive until minutes before the company, so they would always see  him finishing up, and putting the cleaning supplies away. To the point that some people who were invited more often, would be late because they felt like we were not ready for them to arrive when they did. Many people felt bad for him, because he had to work all day and then had to come home and help me clean for company. Then he started wanting to help prepare the meals, and since he would argue until I gave in (I tried to explain, he was stealing my blessing) he would make whatever, and the amount of cooking he did increased as time went on, and he would sit at the table during and after dinner and point out everything he made (leaving out of course, that he had me put together the marinade, or begin the preparation for him). And people felt even more sorry for him, because he did everything for me, not knowing he did it all because I let him because it was easier than fighting with him about it.

I had given up.