(((Nightdream)))) When I left my mother, she fiegned a heart attack and said that I was killing her by leaving. She didn't die. She didn't have a heart attack. I was amazed that she presented that I had soooo much mental power over her. When I left my ex husband he told me that he would never find someone that loved him again, that he wouldn't survive without me. He has done very well for himself in the last 10 years. If he didn't find someone to love him - then it was due to his own actions, not mine. If HIS actions were anywhere close to how he treated me, then he may very well be very much alone.

People grow and change by the direct consequences of their actions. If there are not consequences, there is no growth. I didn't owe my mother anything. I didn't owe my ex anything. I owed MYSELF the benefit of living without fear, without abuse. I have a constitutional RIGHT in this country to pursue happiness. The question was: Do I deserve it? There was a sneaky little secret in my head that told me I didn't. It told me I deserved exactly what I was getting. It was MY secret. . .and I was responsible for it in every single way. My therapist at the time recognized it - long before I did. I had become the epitomy of a Stepford Wife. I had absolutely NO personality - because to have a voice, to have an opinion was such a dangerous way to be. She asked me what were some things that I loved to do that I didn't do any longer because of the situation I was in. I loved to draw. I loved art. I loved to write. I loved to garden. I loved to dress up and look pretty. I loved to learn. My homework assignment that night was to buy an art pad and a pencil, and maybe some ink, and start a drawing. I was to draw my heart, something that let me speak and have a voice - even if it was in a picture and wordless. I drew a china pot with flowers in it. Some of the flowers were bold and strong, some of the flowers were wilted. It was a beautiful picture with a lot of detail. It was wall worthy. My self worth edged up just a little, and that secret became just a little quieter. Eventually after nearly a year of doing little things that I loved to do, that secret was close to nonexistent - and I was packing boxes and moving out.

My current husband is an alcoholic. He's paranoid, delusional, egocentric, very ill with his disease. He can walk into AA at any time and begin his recovery. But he won't. Why? Because he safely drinks. The consequences of his actions don't effect him. They effect me. If he can't get what he wants (goodness knows, I don't give it to him!), he takes it. Making his disease once again all so comfortable. I am in the process of splitting the finances and working on getting to a place where I can be on my way - and when he gets the slightest hint, I hear all the things your husband says, all the things my mother said, and all the things my ex said.

The one thing I don't hear any longer is that I deserve to be treated this way. I hear "I deserve to be treated in a loving nurturing way by the man I chose to spend my life with. I deserve the ability to pursue happiness. And I deserve to feel safe and unafraid in my own home."

There are women's shelters in almost ever city, Nightdream, and they offer free education and counseling, even if you are not ready to leave. They can be a huge support. A lot of them have a buddy system, like AA has sponsors. I encourage you to contact them, and let them offer you the strength you need so much right now.

The deciding factor with me with my ex was when my therapist asked me a very blunt question - Did I want to bury my children? Did I want to die? She asked me this after meeting with him for nearly six months. I didn't want to bury my children. I didn't want to die. I left.

Beth