Hello,
My name is Melinda. I will be turning 35 next month. I am the mom of two little ones and have been married 11 years.
Sounds pretty boring, right?
Why would you continue reading such a boring blog? But wait! Before you go, read this: I am divorcing. I am overweight but I am wokring towards losing the extra weight, and I am in love with someone else.
My husband, a Navy guy, is very abusive towards be and the kids and I was a doormat, aiming to please and keep the peace at all costs for all these years.
Somewhere along the line, I've lost Melinda. Not only that but I've lost the will to live it seems. It was one crisis after the other and I took it all in stride, poisoning myself in the process. It wasn't fair for me, or the kids but my husband, let's call him Dick (appropriately), insisted that this my life now and it's a good one and I should just shut up and take it as it comes, all the while he went on to live his.
I am writing this blog because I fear this new found strength will leave me. I need, my kids need me to keep going, to get them out of this horrible life.It will be hard. I have no family, I have no support system and I have no money. I am also low on mental and physical reserves.
All my life I have never, ever asked for anything. I am the Giver, I don't ask and I don't take. It seems like my husband milked this to the extreme. He will almost weekly ask me for expensive gadgets, snacks, expensive food but the times he has gotten me something can be counted in the fingers of one's hands.
I am not writing this blog to make a dime. I will never ask for a donation and I will never put up any kind of paid ad. But I will ask for your encouragement, your prayers and well wishes.
This is the blog of a desperate woman, a woman that was once slim, clever and self-confident. An educated woman, a kind woman. I have never ever turned down someone in need of help. Now it is my turn to ask for your help. Please keep reading, help me through this. Help me help my children have a bright future free of his destructive influence.
I am afraid. I am so well conditioned, his comments built on my already low self-esteem, that there is a part of myself that thinks I am wrong. Surely, I am wrong. I must be this horrible person he describes. Surely I deserve this, right? And if only... if only I do as he asks, things will be better, right? If only I do as he asks he will love me, like he says. He will be nice to me if I stay on top of the house work more. He promised me he would be nicer to me if I cooked better, cleaned better, didn't talk back... surely.
I am trying very hard to wage a battle against this part of my self and the rebelious part. The part that says, this is not your life. Your life should be much more than this abuse. Your kids' lives must be much more than this...
I need someone to know. I need you to know what is hidden behind my smile, what goes on behind the closed doors. I want you know that when he says "we" there is never such a thing. It is only me. "We" never took the kids to the playground. "We" never took them to the doctor. "We" never stayed for days in a hospital. He will use the word "we" to show people he is a good father but in reality he is a piece of shit. There, I said it.
My story will unfold for you. You will get to know me for who I was, how I came to be in this situation and (hopefully) see me get out of it. I need witnesses. I need someone not to let me quit.
Will you help me? Will you follow me?
M.
My name is Melinda. I will be turning 35 next month. I am the mom of two little ones and have been married 11 years.
Sounds pretty boring, right?
Why would you continue reading such a boring blog? But wait! Before you go, read this: I am divorcing. I am overweight but I am wokring towards losing the extra weight, and I am in love with someone else.
My husband, a Navy guy, is very abusive towards be and the kids and I was a doormat, aiming to please and keep the peace at all costs for all these years.
Somewhere along the line, I've lost Melinda. Not only that but I've lost the will to live it seems. It was one crisis after the other and I took it all in stride, poisoning myself in the process. It wasn't fair for me, or the kids but my husband, let's call him Dick (appropriately), insisted that this my life now and it's a good one and I should just shut up and take it as it comes, all the while he went on to live his.
I am writing this blog because I fear this new found strength will leave me. I need, my kids need me to keep going, to get them out of this horrible life.It will be hard. I have no family, I have no support system and I have no money. I am also low on mental and physical reserves.
All my life I have never, ever asked for anything. I am the Giver, I don't ask and I don't take. It seems like my husband milked this to the extreme. He will almost weekly ask me for expensive gadgets, snacks, expensive food but the times he has gotten me something can be counted in the fingers of one's hands.
I am not writing this blog to make a dime. I will never ask for a donation and I will never put up any kind of paid ad. But I will ask for your encouragement, your prayers and well wishes.
This is the blog of a desperate woman, a woman that was once slim, clever and self-confident. An educated woman, a kind woman. I have never ever turned down someone in need of help. Now it is my turn to ask for your help. Please keep reading, help me through this. Help me help my children have a bright future free of his destructive influence.
I am afraid. I am so well conditioned, his comments built on my already low self-esteem, that there is a part of myself that thinks I am wrong. Surely, I am wrong. I must be this horrible person he describes. Surely I deserve this, right? And if only... if only I do as he asks, things will be better, right? If only I do as he asks he will love me, like he says. He will be nice to me if I stay on top of the house work more. He promised me he would be nicer to me if I cooked better, cleaned better, didn't talk back... surely.
I am trying very hard to wage a battle against this part of my self and the rebelious part. The part that says, this is not your life. Your life should be much more than this abuse. Your kids' lives must be much more than this...
I need someone to know. I need you to know what is hidden behind my smile, what goes on behind the closed doors. I want you know that when he says "we" there is never such a thing. It is only me. "We" never took the kids to the playground. "We" never took them to the doctor. "We" never stayed for days in a hospital. He will use the word "we" to show people he is a good father but in reality he is a piece of shit. There, I said it.
My story will unfold for you. You will get to know me for who I was, how I came to be in this situation and (hopefully) see me get out of it. I need witnesses. I need someone not to let me quit.
Will you help me? Will you follow me?
M.
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