WHERE MIGHT I HAVE BEEN ALL THESE YEARS?

I just remembered I used to have this blog . . . It certainly helped me work out my thoughts and feelings about divorce. Divorce was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. And I've done lots of hard things.

I ended my writing in 2017, the year my house was involved in a fire. I never mentioned that on the blog. But I was in shock for a long time. Also, someone was interest in getting a book published that year on divorce caused by pornography and they thought I would be a good resource since so many people "came out" to me after my own divorce. That has never materialized. Nobody wants to publish such abhorrent knowledge. I can't blame them.

But I do believe that working out my life "after fire" was the main thing I did at that time. That whole ordeal didn't get remediated until more than a year after it happened. I also had two more surgeries on my ankle, one in August 2019 and one six months later in February 2020. That took almost everything I had to recuperate. I had more to deal with than divorce, which I wanted to "release" from my every day psyche.

Then there was the pandemic and then there was an earthquake . . . 

. . . and then I retired from my job. That made me happy to be able to do the things I've always wanted to do but had to work. Haha! Everything I love to do can be done in my house and by myself during a quarantine--writing, art, music, crochet, reading . . . I learned I am a social introvert. I like my me time, but also like intimate gatherings. That served me well in 2020.

And my grandchildren were born starting in 2019, and one almost every year since. My life has been full of love every day. When they're here, my house is a happy place.

I have to admit, though, I still have triggers that lead me back to the abuse. I ask God every night, why do I keep thinking about this? It's been long enough away from that ordeal. But I suppose there are so many issues involved that I am still learning . . . every day.

I recently came upon several YouTubes on Narcissism. I tell ya' . . . that might just explain everything. And coupled with pornography addiction . . . Oi. Both are pervasive behaviors.

This therapist is my favorite on narcissism: https://www.youtube.com/@SurvivingNarcissism. The videos are not too long and he has many that have answered lots of my questions. From there, others will pop up that might help you as well. Also, I've discovered a lot about empaths on YouTube. I know I am one, though I keep it tamped down now. Empaths are usually the perfect narcissist's prey. As is  stated in this blog, the nicer the person, the bigger the challenge for the narcissist. 

I'm not the same person I used to be. When I think of that person, who lived in an emotional prison, I think of the patsy I was. I don't want to be hoodwinked again--beguiled, deceived, betrayed . . . I am still damaged from that. I don't trust people--can't even think about it.

I truly miss the nice person I used to be all those many years ago. I am now a very guarded person where once I was friendly and outgoing. I'm cautious. I don't show emotion readily as I used to, not even with my children. I have to force myself to smile and laugh sometimes, saying to myself it's okay to smile; it's okay to laugh. It used to be he could bring up any issue with a smile or a laugh. I just kept my face and my demeanor "even" so as not to stir up trouble that might blindside me.

But my face feels good when I smile! And my grandchildren always make me smile, and I'm not afraid of being that nice, kind person to them.

I have to give myself some credit for overcoming the after effects of my marriage considering all that I experienced. But being divorced is not my identity anymore. I am a whole person all by myself. I've discovered my love language, if those really exist, is giving handmade gifts, which I try to do often. I love the essay by Ralph Waldo Emerson about "Gifts":

". . . Next to things of necessity, the rule for a gift, which one of my friends prescribed, is, that we might convey to some person that which properly belonged to his character, and was easily associated with him in thought. But our tokens of compliment and love are for the most part barbarous. Rings and other jewels are not gifts, but apologies for gifts. The only gift is a portion of thyself. Thou must bleed for me. Therefore the poet brings his poem; the shepherd, his lamb; the farmer, corn; the miner, a gem; the sailor, coral and shells; the painter, his picture; the girl, a handkerchief of her own sewing. This is right and pleasing, for it restores society in so far to its primary basis, when a man's biography is conveyed in his gift, and every man's wealth is an index of his merit."

I must say, re-reading this blog from start to finish after so many years has been a walk down (the terrible-awful) memory lane. I found the video on Forgiveness to be helpful--again. I have released the terrible-awful over and over, but the C-PTSD follows me around to this day. Most will ask why? My answer is "I don't know." It just happens. I can't control when I'll be triggered and I have no control over responding to the PTSD. It's a trance. When I realize I'm in it, I do stop it. But minutes may go by. Many, many minutes.

I'm not sure I've released that terrible-awful completely, but the words of my friend--turn the other cheek and walk away--seem to be my answer for forgiveness. I walked 2,000 miles away. Another friend, who's a therapist, said I'd probably never be able to fully forgive, but to just stop judging him. There is One Who will be in charge of that one day. That has helped and has eased that burden. 

Also, he told me I have nothing to be ashamed of, or to apologize for. He should be the one who's afraid of me, not the other way around. What I'm actually afraid of is, on the few occasions we're in the same vicinity, at any moment I could spew a million hurts and rages at him. It takes all my restraint not to--which is why I could never be in an intimate setting with him. Even though he is the offender, I would look like the villain if that happened. He was just in town and at my granddaughter's primary program at church, which is probably why I'm triggering so much. But it will calm down eventually.

I do always like to combat the dark with being thankful for the light--the miracles that exist in my life. And I do thank God every day and every night for my now wonderful life. I have all I need. I am blessed. I have discovered my real self, and I like me very much. In fact, I discover new things all the time.

I now have grandchildren, and they bring me such joy and happiness. They are young enough at this point in time to not know why they have this single Grammy in their lives--without a male counterpart. I suppose it will be soon enough they will figure it out and question. But I hope I've shown them enough love that they, in turn, will love this Grammy, who loves them with my whole heart and soul. 

 

I hope this blog has helped the few people who have discovered it. I don't think I'll write again. I think readers will glean a lot of information from here if they need it. And, again, I'm sorry you might need this information. It's rough. I'll just keep it "out there" in cyberspace. I've never monetized it. I wrote for my own catharsis. I don't really want to be discovered, but a few have come forth and said it was helpful. That's all I can ask. 

Verbal Abuse, Part II: depression is destructive

By Susan Knight

Have you ever seen the 1941 movie "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" starring Spencer Tracey and Ingrid Bergman?

I couldn't watch it. I tried, but I realized something hit home for me. . .I couldn't quite put my finger on it. The realization that I was being verbally abused hadn't arisen from the deep, dark recesses of my psyche. That took someone blatantly telling me I was verbally abused by my husband.

How shocking that was. A friend called me from across the country to tell me. It came at a good time. God is good. His timing is excellent. Had she called me at any other time, I wouldn't have believed her and probably never spoken to her again, as I was keen on saving face, looking good.

She called me the week my husband went on a business trip, right after telling me "I have no desire for you," and refused to be intimate with me. I was devastated. Up until that point, I believed he loved me, despite how he treated me. Those words--that sentence--became the beginning of the breakdown of my cover-up, knowing my married life was a lie.

Thank you, friend, for having the courage to call me long distance (in those days) and tell me my husband was verbally abusing me. She had noticed it when we were on a vacation in Utah. Probably more people noticed it, too, but denied it like I did.

Watch this YouTube music video of segments of Ingrid Bergman's portrayal of an abused woman and follow my play-by-play: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4rT02hKWxyw.  *
My commentary is in italics. You can read that after you watch.

-As you watch, notice how Champagne Ivy Pearson is vivacious and spunky in the beginning when Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde comes into her life. She is in love. This is how it was with me. I think the spunkier, smarter, happier you are, the more the abusive predater sees you as prey. He must win you. He must have you. You are a challenge.

-Mr. Hyde amps up his abuse, but she still thinks this is the man she loves and who loves her. When my ex first starting showing signs of anger (right after the honeymoon), I wrote it off as him having a bad day. He had many bad days.

-She is cautious, yet gives him the benefit of the doubt. Benefit of the doubt happened almost every day for me. How about you?

-She pretends he is the same person she loves and thinks he loves her. As good people, we can't believe that everyone isn't good like us. We turn the other cheek. We deny what is really going on.

-He gets full control of her. He won't let her out of the house. She isn't allowed to have friends in. She doesn't know what to believe. She chooses to believe he is the man she loves. This happened every day. Every day.

-She becomes depressed. She is confused.  Did you know "confusion" is at the bottom of the ladder of abuse? Teasing is the firtst rung; confusion is the second.

-She is afraid of him now, but she is still confused. She blames herself. Maybe it's because of something she did.  This is how they get you.

-A friend sneaks in to see her, consoles her, and Ivy opens up. Friends are the ones who save you--let you know how wrong you are. They let you know you are worth being saved.

-Ivy is in the throes of depression, sinking in the quicksand. She drinks to try to put it out of her mind. Some drink, some take pills. I couldn't have lived without Prozac, which I took for the last 15 years of my marriage. Without it, I would have killed myself. Yes, literally. I thought about it quite often. I thank my Heavenly Father that I had the courage NOT to drive into that stone wall or telephone pole.

-She acquiesces to his abuse. She knows she can't control it. She begins to hate him, yet, she can't believe he would hurt her. She doesn't realize how hurt she already is. She is abused. She is ruined and she realizes it. In the movie, she wants to commit suicide and asks Dr. Jekyll to help her.

How many major depressive episodes have you had? Depression, auto-immune diseases, PTSD loops--these are hints, the symptoms, that something is wrong with your life. Please don't let it be so obvious to others, and denied by yourself. Please address the issue of your verbally abusive marriage, or any abusive relationship you are in, or have had in the past.

And one more thing. At the end of my marriage, when I was so depressed, so betrayed, so out of my mind, our marriage counselor told me to get out of my marriage as quickly as possible. He said either my ex was going to kill me (verbal abuse can turn on a dime to physical abuse **), or I would kill myself.

Imagine how that made me feel. And, for once, I actually believed him. No other therapist had ever said that. Luckily he could see my ex-husband for what he really was--a narcissist, an adulterer, bi-polar, angry. None of the other therapists ever could.


* The song, "She Couldn't Laugh," which accompanies this music video, is also a beautiful rendition of verbal abuse.


***Spoiler alert *** 

If you know the movie, you know how it ends. Mr. Hyde kills Ivy. He kills his fiancee's father, then his best friend ends up killing Mr. Hyde. If you have the courage to watch, please do. You might see yourself in that movie and wonder why you're putting up with verbal and/or physical abuse.

Be Kind. Sympathize.

Oh, how I know this so well. Looking back, I can't imagine what my friends thought of me. I always felt poorly. Depression, Lupus, Fibromyalgia, PTSD, Hypoglycemia, chronic back pain . . . these dis-eases invaded my body and made me old before my time. I was fighting a hard battle.
The reason why I am happily divorced is because I now have none of the autoimmunes. They all disappeared on my two-week, cross-country journey as I escaped the old and welcomed my new life.


I hope, if you are fighting a hard battle, if you suffer from dis-ease, you will feel well again, too.

Are Autoimmune Disorders Eating You Alive?

By Susan Knight

Whenever I hear that women have autoimmune diseases I straight away think, "I wonder if they're having marital problems?"

It's a natural reaction. I suffered with autoimmune diseases my whole married life. They come on gradually, like that story about the frog that is tossed into a pot of tepid water. The burner is turned on and the frog doesn't notice the gradual change in temperature until it's too late and it's cooked.

I was cooked, so to speak. The last marriage counselor I went to told me, very bluntly, that I was going to die. He said either my husband was going to kill me because his verbal abuse would turn into physical abuse, or I would die from the inside out from all the autoimmune diseases I had. Fibromyalgia and lupus were the biggest, followed by allergies that were added to almost on a yearly basis.

What was miraculous to me was, as I escaped my marriage and fled out west, I noticed a decided change in how I felt--even while driving across the country.

An autoimmune disorder occurs when the body's immune system starts attacking itself. For instance, pollen isn't harmful to the body, but people with pollen allergies have immune systems that perceive the pollen to be harmful. The body releases antibodies to destroy the so-called invading substance.

Did you read that right?  Yes. The body starts attacking itself.

This happens often in abuse and sexual abuse cases. It's not enough that we're being abused or molested, but our bodies, which are screaming at us that something is wrong, finally start attacking from the inside. This, in my opinion*, is because we have used up all our resistance in fighting the outward attacker, and now the attack has gone inward, but is misplaced.

The body is saying, "Okay. I give up. I really can't take this anymore." But the abuse keeps coming and there is nothing left with which to fight it. The body knows something is wrong, so it goes berserk fighting anything that comes along that seems foreign.

Some auto-immune disorders include Allergies, Dermatomyositis (type of skin rash), Hashimoto's Thyroiditis, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, MS, Rheumatoid Arthritis, Lupus, Celiac Disease-sprue (gluten sensitivity), Fibromyalgia, Type II diabetes, Hypoglycemia. **

Joints, muscles, connective tissue, red blood cells, skin, blood vessels, endocrine glands--these all can be affected. Symptoms include fatigue, fever, rash, hives, malaise (feeling ill in general), muscle pain, joint pain, and many more.

I also believe these auto-immune diseases cause situational depression and even major depressive episodes (what we used to call nervous breakdowns) because we don't feel well and don't know why. Everyone thinks we're hypochondriacs. We're not wearing band-aids, or casts.

The depression is two-fold. It's caused by being ill-treated by an abuser, plus being misunderstood by our friends.* Who wants to be around a downer person? So we put on a happy face to look good.

But a depression discussion will be left for another post.

Until then, examine your life. Is your body screaming at you?

Mine did. It was like a voice within me that was suppressed down in the basement or a dungeon, banging on the door, screaming, "Listen to me! Let me out! You know I'm right!"

But I wouldn't let it out. I wouldn't acknowledge it. I knew, deep, deep down, it was my husband who was causing me to feel like this. But I had to maintain the perfect family facade. I had to save face, look good.

I'm begging you. Please listen to your body. Your psyche, your inner self, knows you and only wants the best for you.

Listen, even though you're scared.  Don't wait thirty-three years like I did. Start to love yourself, and get help, if you need it.

The up side is, I am so much happier with myself. It's still hard to show emotion, though. I had to suppress it for so long. I have to remind myself to smile, or laugh. I am worthy to do those things, even though my abuser made me feel less worthy to show emotion--of any kind.

It's my prayer that my readers will realize they are worthy to be loved, to show emotion, trusting that the love is reciprocated by so many. I know it's hard. I am still trying. It's probably one of the steps I have left to climb. But I will succeed. . . some day.

*This is just my opinion, though I'm sure psychologists could back it up, like my marriage counselor did
**http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/ency/article/000816.htm