No. He would not. Yet here I am, struggling with the decision - to leave or not to leave (my marriage). I have two small children. I am a Christian. Christ loves us unconditionally and would not, no matter what, leave us. We're called to take up the cross and follow him, right? And my persecution on this earth is so miniscule compared to what he endured. The world tells me I need not suffer. Christians tell me I am not of this world, my time here is short, and I am to follow the Word. I know I just have to be in prayer about this. But I'm feeling rebellious there, too. Why??? A life run on self-will sucks. Yet I persist in reaping the suckiness. Stubborn alcoholic.
I met him in an AA meeting in 1995. I was in a slowly dying relationship. I was not a Christian. He was F-I-N-E! And his smile made me blush and turn the other way. We thought we were doing things the right way. This time things would be different. We were not going to repeat the dysfunctional patterns of past relationships. We started individual therapy with the same counselor before we even started dating. I broke up with my boyfriend and I "mourned" the relationship at the suggestion of the counselor, setting our "first date" well in advance so we wouldn't do the rebound thing. Can you say "self-will"? Seems to be a buzz word here.
We dated for two years before marrying, living together for nine months prior to the wedding. There were lots of signs that things were crazy, but this was the sanest relationship I had ever been in! And I thought that, since we were so committed to working on ourselves and the relationship, we could conquer anything (there's that self-will again). Who was I kidding?
We know now that he was bipolar, but being untreated back then, erratic behavior ensued. There was definite verbal abuse, and he was not the only one dishing it out. He broke things that belonged to me, used the car as a weapon of terror, stopped working on our relationship because he was "tired of working on it", decided during the engagement that he believed in "open" marriages. I think God was sending me the rope but I wasn't grabbing hold of it. There was only one thing left to do. Get married! The wedding was elegant. I'd do it the same way if I had it to do over (almost).
Less than a year after the wedding, he came to me with the admission that he had been "injecting intravenous narcotics for 4 days." In layman's terms, that's shooting dope. I didn't believe him. I thought he was putting me on until he showed me. His body was covered with bruises, from between his toes, up his legs, groin, covering his arms, up to his neck. I was sick. I couldn't speak. Here's my husband, been sober for years - now a junkie. I had considered the possibility of him cheating on me one day, but had never imagined this in my wildest dreams.
Now what should I do? I didn't go to Alanon, though I should have. Another rope from God perhaps? I chose to stay. (I have been blessed with an overabundance of loyalty, which has served me well - at times.)
I have come to understand, after many years of denial, that I was under the attack of the enemy within our marriage, disguised as verbal abuse from my husband. Patricia Evans does a great job of painting a clear picture of verbal abuse in her books on the subject.
I met him in an AA meeting in 1995. I was in a slowly dying relationship. I was not a Christian. He was F-I-N-E! And his smile made me blush and turn the other way. We thought we were doing things the right way. This time things would be different. We were not going to repeat the dysfunctional patterns of past relationships. We started individual therapy with the same counselor before we even started dating. I broke up with my boyfriend and I "mourned" the relationship at the suggestion of the counselor, setting our "first date" well in advance so we wouldn't do the rebound thing. Can you say "self-will"? Seems to be a buzz word here.
We dated for two years before marrying, living together for nine months prior to the wedding. There were lots of signs that things were crazy, but this was the sanest relationship I had ever been in! And I thought that, since we were so committed to working on ourselves and the relationship, we could conquer anything (there's that self-will again). Who was I kidding?
We know now that he was bipolar, but being untreated back then, erratic behavior ensued. There was definite verbal abuse, and he was not the only one dishing it out. He broke things that belonged to me, used the car as a weapon of terror, stopped working on our relationship because he was "tired of working on it", decided during the engagement that he believed in "open" marriages. I think God was sending me the rope but I wasn't grabbing hold of it. There was only one thing left to do. Get married! The wedding was elegant. I'd do it the same way if I had it to do over (almost).
Less than a year after the wedding, he came to me with the admission that he had been "injecting intravenous narcotics for 4 days." In layman's terms, that's shooting dope. I didn't believe him. I thought he was putting me on until he showed me. His body was covered with bruises, from between his toes, up his legs, groin, covering his arms, up to his neck. I was sick. I couldn't speak. Here's my husband, been sober for years - now a junkie. I had considered the possibility of him cheating on me one day, but had never imagined this in my wildest dreams.
Now what should I do? I didn't go to Alanon, though I should have. Another rope from God perhaps? I chose to stay. (I have been blessed with an overabundance of loyalty, which has served me well - at times.)
I have come to understand, after many years of denial, that I was under the attack of the enemy within our marriage, disguised as verbal abuse from my husband. Patricia Evans does a great job of painting a clear picture of verbal abuse in her books on the subject.
In addition to calling me a wide assortment of names, there was violence on things. He smashed our headboard to splinters with a baseball bat, broke my things, threw my stuff around, threatened to divorce me if I smoked another cigarette (back when I struggled with that), took the credit cards and checkbooks and got in my face while I was taking a nap with our beautiful daughter and said, "You'd better get up off your lazy a** and get a f***ing job because I'm leaving you and I'm taking all the money - the checkbooks, the credit cards, everything. Get a f***ing job!" He has not been honest. He has erratic mood swings and tries to control everything about me. He does not know me. He rarely looks at me. He doesn't talk to me, he only tells me what to do or what to change.
Why am I still here? Well, technically I'm not. I'm staying at my parents' so I can take care of myself outside of the dysfunction. The kids are with me. I'm here because I've always believed he's a sick person trying to get better, not a bad person. When one of his deals is over, he always comes out shining on the other side, very apologetic and taking all the right steps to get better, willing to do anything. I'm here with the goal of reconciling. Jesus loves me unconditionally and would never leave me no matter how sick I got. I am called to try to be like Christ. My vows were in front of God (even though I was not a Christian). He is the father of our children, and our daughter is 5 and in love with him. Will it hurt them more for me to stay, or leave? What would you do? WHAT WOULD JESUS DO???
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