My heart ACHES for you, Navy Spouse. Been there, been there, been there. I mean that literally.
My first husband was a draft dodger. When he asked me to marry him, after less than 2 months of dating, I was 16 and he was an 18-year-old high school dropout. He was expecting to be drafted any day. This was February 1970, and at that time, the only way for a healthy 18-year-old to avoid being drafted for the war in Vietnam, was to be married and to have a child. He didn't tell me until AFTER we were married, and I was pregnant, that the only reason he had married me and wanted a baby right away, was to avoid being drafted... and, he said, he was too young to settle down with just one person, so he was going to continue to date anyone that he wanted to. That was my marriage #1.
Later, I was married to a career Navy Vietnam Veteran. Then I was married to a career Air Force Vietnam Veteran. Now I am married to a Marine Vietnam Veteran!
So, yes, I've been there, been there, been there. I'm SO GLAD I'm not living in that kind of pain and uncertainty anymore, Navy Spouse. I don't wish it on anyone.
Maybe it's because I have CPTSD, dating all the way back to my earliest childhood, but I personally can only take so much crap from anyone, and then I'm done. I have walked away, with my heart shattered, from men I truly loved and whom I knew were doing the best they could with the brokenness they had... but I simply could not take it any more. It was either leave, or lose my mind, and kill myself. This is why I've had so many divorces. I was the one who left, every time, because I could not stand the hellish pain any more.
I endured 3 and a half years of being beaten by my husband about 2 to 4 times a month (I miscarried our first child after a bad beating). He was also cheating on me constantly, being true to his word of not wanting to settle down with just one woman at such a young age. He even got involved with my own very abusive horrible mother, who was in her late 30s at the time. My narcissistic, sociopathic mother, who had abused me my whole life long, was in complete agreement with my husband's "right" to beat me. She told me so, in front of him, on my 17th birthday, no less, after he had beat me that morning for simply asking if we could go out to get a hamburger and see a movie for my birthday, the way we had done when we were dating. Then, after telling me that my husband had the right to beat me, because the Bible says "Spare the rod and spoil the child," she went over and put her arms around him and sat on his lap, right in front of me, and told him how much she loved him and how sorry she was that she had not warned him about how horrible of a spoiled rotten person I was, before he married me... as I said, I endured that first marriage for 3 and a half years. I stayed, and put up with the intolerable, because I had come out of my insane abusive childhood home with zero self-esteem. I had been taught all of my life by both of my parents that I was unloveable, and that I "drove people to want to hurt me," because I was such a miserable person to be around.
I actually pitied my first husband because, although he had never been in war (being the draft dodger), I knew, because his aunt told me right after we married, that he had been horribly beaten by his father all during his childhood. I knew what that felt like, and I thought I understood that he had learned to be like his dad, to HIT when he was angry or stressed about anything. So I stayed and stayed and God knows I TRIED MY BEST every day of our marriage to be a better wife, a better person, to try to win his love. He told me that the reason he "had to cheat on me" was because I "wasn't woman enough" for him, whatever the heck THAT means. So I tried and tried to learn how to be "woman enough." I read books, like The Joy of Sex, which was popular back then, trying to learn what he wanted me to be, at 16, 17, and 18 years of age!
But, when he beat me in front of our then-2-year-old son, after having promised me he would never hit me in front of our child, THAT was when I found the courage to leave. When I regained consciousness after that last terrible beating, and found myself lying on the kitchen floor with my little boy patting my face and crying... that was it, I was finally done.
After each failed marriage, my fuse got shorter, and shorter. Each painful divorce marriage left me less and less capable of tolerating being treated badly. I estimate that my first husband beat me anywhere from 50 to 100 times during our marriage, based on his pattern of abuse. As I said, I miscarried one baby because of his beatings. He cheated on me with countless others, my own mother was just one of many. He was a sex addict and he was bi-sexual, apparently, as I later learned that he had had affairs with both women and men, during our brief marriage. This was in the days before AIDS, thank heavens. But he did give me one venereal disease, however it was at least curable.
My second husband "only" cheated on me with 3 women (that I found out about), and he only hit me twice, and tried his hardest to break my neck that second time, and that was enough for me, I was out of there, after just 2 years of marriage.
My third husband and I lasted 10 years. But then, as his Navy career was coming to an end, he started drinking heavily. He got drunk one day and beat me so badly that he almost killed me. He broke my nose and my jaw and gave me a bad concussion. It was the ONLY time he had ever hit me in our 10 years of marraige. But I was done, I wasn't about to wait around for a second beating.
The fourth husband never hit me. He never cheated on me, either, to my knowledge. He was much older than me, a safe father figure, really. I was in my mid-30s and very youthful, and he was around 50 and looked even older, when we were married. But when I turned 40, a few months after my first grandchild was born, he told me that he was not nearly so physically attracted to me anymore, now that I was 40, and a grandmother, and I had put on about 10 pounds, and had a few lines on my face. He began to openly lust over other younger women, telling me how HOT this one was, and how he would love to F that one. He started wanting porn more than he wanted me. That was it, that was all he did, he didn't beat me, he didn't cheat on me (not that I knew), he never yelled at me, never cursed at me. He just basically stopped wanting me. He even stopped talking to me! Silent, he was, day and night. He would go a solid week without saying more than one whole sentence to me! So, I left. I just walked out the door one day. I told him that if he didn't love me enough to talk to me once in a while, if he didn't love me enough to prefer my body to pornography, then I was leaving. And, sure enough, he didn't love me enough to try to get me to stay.
When I married my now best-friend-husband in July 2004, the very first day after we were married, he began YELLING at me for something really stupid... he loves to cook, and he wanted what he called an "egg pan," and I did not know what an "egg pan" is ~ (turns out he meant an omelet pan. WHATever!) I *immediately* packed my bags and left. I told him, "I am 51 years old, and I have already gone through the hell of 4 divorces. I don't want to go through another one. But I have gone through too much in my life, I have fought too hard, to finally find some bit of peace and happiness now in the autumn of my life. I love you, I enjoy your company, and I would like to continue loving you and enjoying your company, for the rest of our lives. But I will not be yelled at. If the house is on fire and you need to yell at me to get out to save my life, THEN you may yell at me. But ONLY in an emergency such as that, will I submit to being yelled at! I swear to God I will live in my car at the Walmart parking lot if I have to, before I will ever again stay under the same roof with someone who YELLS at me, or in any way and treats me with DISRESPECT. I don't even care all that much anymore about being LOVED, I only ask to be treated with the common courtesy of RESPECT."
Today, my BFH and I are super happy. Why? Beacuse we RESPECT each other. We treat each other with kindness and consideration, every minute of every day. We do not ever talk DOWN to each other. We do not ever treat each other like we OWN the other person. I don't ever talk down to him like he's an idiot child, not even when he acts like an idiot child, and he never treats me like an idiot child, either, not even though I act like one. We do not ever so much as look at each other with a hateful look, or talk to each other with a contemptuous tone of voice. We very simply treat each other, every day, with AT LEAST the same basic courtesy that most people show to total strangers on the street! (On the rare occasion that one of us slips up and says something in a less-than-kind tone of voice, we immediately apologize, and we readily forgive each other, because no one is perfect.)
After four failed marriages EACH, my BFH and I have finally figured out that having a GREAT marriage, really isn't such a hard thing to do!! PTSD or no PTSD, it is not that hard to simply be polite and considerate and courteous, and to speak in a respectful manner, to the person you share your life with. We don't expect perfection. We accept each other, faults and all. Gosh it's great to be able to just BE ME, and know that I am accepted, and loved, and respected, flaws and all!
Now that I finally have a very happy, peaceful, loving, and fulfilling marriage (albeit with a terribly rocky start!), my favorite ancient Chinese proverb sums up very well, the simple truth I have learned (learned the HARD way!) about what it takes to make, or break, a relationship:
"A relationship can survive anything but disrespect." (Man, those Ancient Chinese were some Smart Dudes!)
<self promotion signature removed>
My first husband was a draft dodger. When he asked me to marry him, after less than 2 months of dating, I was 16 and he was an 18-year-old high school dropout. He was expecting to be drafted any day. This was February 1970, and at that time, the only way for a healthy 18-year-old to avoid being drafted for the war in Vietnam, was to be married and to have a child. He didn't tell me until AFTER we were married, and I was pregnant, that the only reason he had married me and wanted a baby right away, was to avoid being drafted... and, he said, he was too young to settle down with just one person, so he was going to continue to date anyone that he wanted to. That was my marriage #1.
Later, I was married to a career Navy Vietnam Veteran. Then I was married to a career Air Force Vietnam Veteran. Now I am married to a Marine Vietnam Veteran!
So, yes, I've been there, been there, been there. I'm SO GLAD I'm not living in that kind of pain and uncertainty anymore, Navy Spouse. I don't wish it on anyone.
Maybe it's because I have CPTSD, dating all the way back to my earliest childhood, but I personally can only take so much crap from anyone, and then I'm done. I have walked away, with my heart shattered, from men I truly loved and whom I knew were doing the best they could with the brokenness they had... but I simply could not take it any more. It was either leave, or lose my mind, and kill myself. This is why I've had so many divorces. I was the one who left, every time, because I could not stand the hellish pain any more.
I endured 3 and a half years of being beaten by my husband about 2 to 4 times a month (I miscarried our first child after a bad beating). He was also cheating on me constantly, being true to his word of not wanting to settle down with just one woman at such a young age. He even got involved with my own very abusive horrible mother, who was in her late 30s at the time. My narcissistic, sociopathic mother, who had abused me my whole life long, was in complete agreement with my husband's "right" to beat me. She told me so, in front of him, on my 17th birthday, no less, after he had beat me that morning for simply asking if we could go out to get a hamburger and see a movie for my birthday, the way we had done when we were dating. Then, after telling me that my husband had the right to beat me, because the Bible says "Spare the rod and spoil the child," she went over and put her arms around him and sat on his lap, right in front of me, and told him how much she loved him and how sorry she was that she had not warned him about how horrible of a spoiled rotten person I was, before he married me... as I said, I endured that first marriage for 3 and a half years. I stayed, and put up with the intolerable, because I had come out of my insane abusive childhood home with zero self-esteem. I had been taught all of my life by both of my parents that I was unloveable, and that I "drove people to want to hurt me," because I was such a miserable person to be around.
I actually pitied my first husband because, although he had never been in war (being the draft dodger), I knew, because his aunt told me right after we married, that he had been horribly beaten by his father all during his childhood. I knew what that felt like, and I thought I understood that he had learned to be like his dad, to HIT when he was angry or stressed about anything. So I stayed and stayed and God knows I TRIED MY BEST every day of our marriage to be a better wife, a better person, to try to win his love. He told me that the reason he "had to cheat on me" was because I "wasn't woman enough" for him, whatever the heck THAT means. So I tried and tried to learn how to be "woman enough." I read books, like The Joy of Sex, which was popular back then, trying to learn what he wanted me to be, at 16, 17, and 18 years of age!
But, when he beat me in front of our then-2-year-old son, after having promised me he would never hit me in front of our child, THAT was when I found the courage to leave. When I regained consciousness after that last terrible beating, and found myself lying on the kitchen floor with my little boy patting my face and crying... that was it, I was finally done.
After each failed marriage, my fuse got shorter, and shorter. Each painful divorce marriage left me less and less capable of tolerating being treated badly. I estimate that my first husband beat me anywhere from 50 to 100 times during our marriage, based on his pattern of abuse. As I said, I miscarried one baby because of his beatings. He cheated on me with countless others, my own mother was just one of many. He was a sex addict and he was bi-sexual, apparently, as I later learned that he had had affairs with both women and men, during our brief marriage. This was in the days before AIDS, thank heavens. But he did give me one venereal disease, however it was at least curable.
My second husband "only" cheated on me with 3 women (that I found out about), and he only hit me twice, and tried his hardest to break my neck that second time, and that was enough for me, I was out of there, after just 2 years of marriage.
My third husband and I lasted 10 years. But then, as his Navy career was coming to an end, he started drinking heavily. He got drunk one day and beat me so badly that he almost killed me. He broke my nose and my jaw and gave me a bad concussion. It was the ONLY time he had ever hit me in our 10 years of marraige. But I was done, I wasn't about to wait around for a second beating.
The fourth husband never hit me. He never cheated on me, either, to my knowledge. He was much older than me, a safe father figure, really. I was in my mid-30s and very youthful, and he was around 50 and looked even older, when we were married. But when I turned 40, a few months after my first grandchild was born, he told me that he was not nearly so physically attracted to me anymore, now that I was 40, and a grandmother, and I had put on about 10 pounds, and had a few lines on my face. He began to openly lust over other younger women, telling me how HOT this one was, and how he would love to F that one. He started wanting porn more than he wanted me. That was it, that was all he did, he didn't beat me, he didn't cheat on me (not that I knew), he never yelled at me, never cursed at me. He just basically stopped wanting me. He even stopped talking to me! Silent, he was, day and night. He would go a solid week without saying more than one whole sentence to me! So, I left. I just walked out the door one day. I told him that if he didn't love me enough to talk to me once in a while, if he didn't love me enough to prefer my body to pornography, then I was leaving. And, sure enough, he didn't love me enough to try to get me to stay.
When I married my now best-friend-husband in July 2004, the very first day after we were married, he began YELLING at me for something really stupid... he loves to cook, and he wanted what he called an "egg pan," and I did not know what an "egg pan" is ~ (turns out he meant an omelet pan. WHATever!) I *immediately* packed my bags and left. I told him, "I am 51 years old, and I have already gone through the hell of 4 divorces. I don't want to go through another one. But I have gone through too much in my life, I have fought too hard, to finally find some bit of peace and happiness now in the autumn of my life. I love you, I enjoy your company, and I would like to continue loving you and enjoying your company, for the rest of our lives. But I will not be yelled at. If the house is on fire and you need to yell at me to get out to save my life, THEN you may yell at me. But ONLY in an emergency such as that, will I submit to being yelled at! I swear to God I will live in my car at the Walmart parking lot if I have to, before I will ever again stay under the same roof with someone who YELLS at me, or in any way and treats me with DISRESPECT. I don't even care all that much anymore about being LOVED, I only ask to be treated with the common courtesy of RESPECT."
Today, my BFH and I are super happy. Why? Beacuse we RESPECT each other. We treat each other with kindness and consideration, every minute of every day. We do not ever talk DOWN to each other. We do not ever treat each other like we OWN the other person. I don't ever talk down to him like he's an idiot child, not even when he acts like an idiot child, and he never treats me like an idiot child, either, not even though I act like one. We do not ever so much as look at each other with a hateful look, or talk to each other with a contemptuous tone of voice. We very simply treat each other, every day, with AT LEAST the same basic courtesy that most people show to total strangers on the street! (On the rare occasion that one of us slips up and says something in a less-than-kind tone of voice, we immediately apologize, and we readily forgive each other, because no one is perfect.)
After four failed marriages EACH, my BFH and I have finally figured out that having a GREAT marriage, really isn't such a hard thing to do!! PTSD or no PTSD, it is not that hard to simply be polite and considerate and courteous, and to speak in a respectful manner, to the person you share your life with. We don't expect perfection. We accept each other, faults and all. Gosh it's great to be able to just BE ME, and know that I am accepted, and loved, and respected, flaws and all!
Now that I finally have a very happy, peaceful, loving, and fulfilling marriage (albeit with a terribly rocky start!), my favorite ancient Chinese proverb sums up very well, the simple truth I have learned (learned the HARD way!) about what it takes to make, or break, a relationship:
"A relationship can survive anything but disrespect." (Man, those Ancient Chinese were some Smart Dudes!)
<self promotion signature removed>
