There was therapy, to which I mostly went alone looking for the answers. I found therapy first in a women's group using guided meditation, listening to the experiences of other women and curious to find how they managed their marriages. I joined both Alanon and CoDa (also groups) at different times sitting in church halls in folding chairs with coffee and a table of pamphlets in the back. It was here that I first heard the word Detachment.
One therapist I went to had me play both sides of an issue, changing chairs when I did. Another one told me her mother didn't divorce her father and lived to regret it. She looked at me with compassion. One male therapist I saw was alarmed to hear that I bought all my husband's clothing for him. He said he wished his wife would do that for him and hugged me. A few summers ago I saw a therapist and mostly just cried on the sofa. I remember she said,"You don't have to stay." She sometimes looked at me as if I had said something that surprised her. I'm pretty sure she thought I should have left long long ago.
I attended therapy three times with my husband. At the first attempt we were obliged to return six times and we did. I can't remember anything except my husband told the therapist he was pissed that I threw away his underwear. I did, when they had holes in them. The United Way offered couples group therapy services for recovering addicts. I think my husband was stunned to find he had commonality among blue collar workers spending their paychecks on crack. This one sort of worked, for a while. Catholic Services offered therapy on a sliding scale when I couldn't afford it. They recommended a couples retreat weekend where everybody told their secrets, mostly about infidelity, and I told mine or rather his.
I saw one psychiatrist when I became depressed. I was wearing sunglasses all the time to cover up my red eyes, from crying all day long. She called it a situational depression. She prescribed me anti-depressants and we never discussed too much, just my outlook in general. It did help me get past the depression.
More than once I exported my marriage to a nice hotel or resort thinking that some away time would fix the emotional distance between us. It helped in the moment, we had sex, but that never addressed his chronic abuse and why I allowed it.
Finally I used the Internet as a research tool and significantly improved my odds of deconstructing the fractured dream that had become my marriage. The way I discovered the words Verbal Abuse for the first time was through a google search. I typed, "husband gives cold shoulder" and I found Patrica Evan's website and her books. When I read them my jaw dropped. I was underlining on every page. This was my life, on those pages. That was five years ago.
Since then I have worked with a Jungian Analyst and just recently I entered into trauma therapy, both of which have been significantly helpful to me.
Here I am telling you my story so you'll know that this is not so easy to get here and I have a way to go before I am healed. If you are stuck in a relationship with an Abuser or Addict my heart goes out to you. You are not unlike a prisoner in your own home. Luckily, there are many more women today who are willing and able to tell their story. I hope this will help you to see that you are NOT alone and others have been where you might be. Looking under rocks, on the Internet!
No comments:
Post a Comment