I have posted this page in an attempt to reach other people who may be experiencing psychological abuse, like I was. If what you see here reminds you of your own relationship, please seek help! No one deserves to be abused, and there are agencies and lawyers to help you.
I have changed the names of my ex-husband, myself, and my kids to protect our identities. Otherwise, the entries here have been copied straight out of my journal from the time leading up to my divorce.
I am NOT necessarily suggesting that divorce is the only answer. In my case, it was the only viable option. Please seek counsel from mental health and legal professionals before you take any drastic steps.
These are just a few instances culled from five years of psychological abuse. I will add more over the coming months, as time permits.
Here then, are select entries from my journal, written in the final months of my marriage:
- Late June 1996-- (The first real sign of trouble) After my son's birth, Marv (my husband) tells me he cannot afford to be stressed and short of sleep when he goes back to work (in August), so he will be sleeping in the basement until the baby is sleeping through the night in his own crib (instead of the cradle in our room). Marv says he will take his pager downstairs with him, so I can reach him for help if I need it. About half of the time that I page him for help, I hear the pager buzzing somewhere upstairs. I experience considerable stress using a breast pump 12 times a day and managing an infant and 21-month-old on my own. After a time, I quit bothering to page him, because it isn't worth the hassle. I tell him I feel abandoned and devalued as a person. He tells me to "deal with it." Marv sleeps in the basement for more than four months.
- March 17, unknown year, late 1990's-- I attend my friend Irene's surprise birthday party. Since she loves white wine, guests are asked to bring a bottle of white wine as a gift. Marv knows I am going to the party, and what the theme is. (Because Marv's wife before me was an alcoholic, I had made a commitment to be alcohol-free as a show of support to him and my stepdaughter.) I attend the party, but do not drink any alcohol. When I arrive home after, Marv greets me at the door with a big, passionate kiss. I think, "How romantic!" until I realize he was just checking me for alcohol! He admits that he didn't trust me to honor the commitment I voluntarily made, nor did he trust me to tell the truth about it! The funny thing-- I don't even care much for wine. Wouldn't have had any even if I hadn't made the commitment!
- Sometime Mid-2000 to present-- Marv comes across a box of my old stuff from college. In the box is a pile of old letters from assorted friends of mine, thrown into the box when I packed my dorm room, then forgotten. He reads them all, and then begins to interrogate me about the contents. Any time a letter is from someone with a gender-neutral name (like Pat), Marv assumes the writer is male. He interprets everything in the most insulting, damaging light possible. One friend had written to me expressing thanks that I stood by her as a supportive friend when she made the decision to get an abortion. Marv accuses me of brainwashing her into getting the abortion. For many months, he brings up material in those letters, most of which I had completely forgotten. For every male writer, he asks if I ever slept with him, though I have told him many times I had only ever been with two men. He asks me repeatedly if I've ever had lesbian experiences with any of my female friends, and when I say that I have not, he asks, "Are you sure?"
- December 2000 to present-- Marv becomes obsessed with the idea that I am addicted to what he calls "suck and f***" music, or "porno." He originally starts in on this crusade after hearing the song "Pretty Thing" by Tin Machine. He reads all the lyrics on my CDs, or looks them up on the internet if not pre-printed. He expands his witch hunt by doing research at the library on the effects of rock and roll on brain development! (Mind you, I was an adult, listening to mainstream rock on my own time. I was not playing music in front of my children that would not have been appropriate for them, I was not listening to particularly "hard core" music, and I was only listening for brief periods, when I had time.) Marv tells me often that I am in the grip of Satan and severely addicted to pornography, but that I am in denial. He equates adult rock music to Hustler magazine. Marv orders me to remove certain CDs from our home, because he doesn't want porn in our house. If an artist has recorded one song Marv doesn't like, that artist's entire body of work is labeled "trash." See below for a partial list of banned musicians. Eventually, Marv declares he will not be intimate with me on days I have listened to rock music, even on the car radio! He interrogates me every night about my listening behavior of the day. He is withholding affection in an attempt to shape my behavior. Marv brings up the "porno music" topic EVERY DAY, making threats or abusive comments about my moral development.
- January 2001 and following-- Marv begins monitoring every penny I spend. Each day he asks me what hours I worked, what I did before, during, and after work, what I did for lunch, etc. He carefully asks me, multiple times, if I've bought anything. Later I discover he has been searching my purse for receipts. I catch Hell from him if I've forgotten to tell him about a soda I got at the gas station when I filled up the car. I begin finding ways to hide small purchases from him, because I am so tired of the interrogations, and feel so violated, like I have no safe haven. Marv goes so far as to have the employees at Borders pull up my order history on the computer so he can keep track of my purchases. Even after I sternly order the manager not to share my information because I am being harassed, he is still able to get the information! He also calls my father and tells him not to buy me any gift certificates that could be used to purchase CDs anywhere. Marv constantly asks me what I'm thinking, too, so I don't even have privacy inside my own head! This constant monitoring goes on until I move out and file for divorce. At one point, Marv telephones my stepdaughter while he is out of town and asks her to look in the CD changer and tell him what discs are in there. He never even asks to speak to me, so I have no idea he has called. Later he questions me about the CDs, trying to trap me in a lie. He still tries to use the children as spies, too.
- February 2001-- I begin noticing that whenever I get in my van after Marv has driven it, all my radio station pre-sets have been changed to the local Christian radio station. Eventually, he gets into the habit of changing my radio stations even when he hasn't been driving the van! I ask him repeated times to leave my stations as programmed, because I would never dream of tampering with his, but he continues to do this. It's not that hard to use the seek button to find a station you want to listen to without changing someone's settings! What a nutcase, to go to all this trouble just to mess with me! This kind of intentional, controlling behavior is classic abuse. It's futile, because I just re-program the radio each time. His little effort to expose me to good influences only serves to anger me and waste both of our time!
- March 2001-- Marv deletes my bookmarks from Netscape because he doesn't approve of them. Then he uninstalls SimCity and The Sims from our computer because he thinks they are evil.
- April 17, 2001-- In the evening, while I am picking up my dad at the airport, Marv takes all my CDs (about 65 discs) into the garage and throws them up into the air. He then runs over several of them with the kids' little red wagon. As I gather them up, in tears, he stands over me and mocks me. "Those aren't your children! Why are you crying?"
- April 18, 2001-- The kids overhear me talking on the phone to a friend about last night's CD incident, and they tell Grandpa about it at dinner in front of Marv. Boy, am I in for it! After the kids go to bed, he makes non-specific threats and insists that I tell the kids it was all a misunderstanding, or else.
- April 19, 2001-- As Marv stands by to make sure I get it right, I tell the kids, "What happened with Mommy's CDs was an accident. They fell down and Daddy helped me pick them up." Later, on the way to school, the kids and I have a good talk about how we all know what really happened, and that Daddy told me to lie to them. (Actually, we've had lots of good, honest talks since then, too. He continues to lie to me in front of them, and they always set me straight later. Does he think the kids are stupid, deaf, or dumb? They scratch their heads and ask me, "Why would Daddy lie about that?")
- May 25, 2001-- As I'm driving to Ohio with my dad, Marv goes to work and prints address labels with prayers on them, then sticks them all over the librettos and rear paper covers of the few CDs I have left at home. Multiple stickers are applied for each CD, all covering the faces of the artists, so some of the pictures are ruined upon removal. He tells me he has applied the stickers because he wanted me to think about the prayers.
- Summer 2001-- I spend three separate weeks in a mental health full-day outpatient treatment program. I would get buoyed up by my therapists, go home, fall apart, and end up back in the hospital. ALL the therapists and other patients were telling me my husband was not going to change, that I needed to get a divorce. One time, Marv faxes song lyrics he has printed off the internet to the hospital, and asks the nurses to share them with my therapists so they can see what "filth" I am addicted to. Most of the songs are ones I have never heard, from albums I don't have! The therapists all laugh and roll their eyes about what a jerk he is. During this time, Marv also makes a habit of going through my journal and making notes. On some pages he writes "This is bulls***!"
- July 5, 2001-- My children tell me Daddy has told them I have a giant butt, that I am way too lazy, and that I am weird because I get stressed out. They also tell me he has asked them to listen in when I am on the phone, so they can tell Marv if I am talking about him.
- July 8, 2001-- Marv leaves on a trip to Dallas. The rest of the day is remarkably tranquil, I'm happy, the kids are easy to manage.
- July 22, 2001-- As I am walking on my treadmill and listening to a CD on headphones, Marv comes downstairs and asks me what I'm listening to. When I tell him the name of the album (Instinct, one of Iggy Pop's mildest efforts, content-wise) he says, "On a holy day?!" Later, when he goes back upstairs, he says, sarcastically, "Have a nice, holy Sunday!" He then drives off in a huff for several hours. When he comes home, he accuses me of sneaking the CD downstairs.
- End of July, 2001-- The kids and I move in with Grandpa (my father). Over the next several months, I file for, and obtain, a divorce. I also lose 50 pounds and am able to stop taking all nine of the prescriptions I was taking for anxiety, high blood pressure, and asthma.
- August, 2001-- I still have property in the house I was sharing with Marv. One day, I go over to get some more of my things, and find a note taped to his bedroom door. The note tells me that if I go in his bedroom, he will break into my house, steal my vibrator (guess who bought it for me?) and show it to my father! The note is handwritten, in Marv's handwriting. I still have it, in my "show to a lawyer, if needed" file.
- October 5, 2001-- The day after our divorce is final, Marv cleans out our American Century joint accounts, taking much more than his share per our divorce agreement. He kept telling me, each time I asked, that he was too busy to go in and divvy up the money with me. We had agreed to go in together and close out the accounts according to a formula in our divorce decree, and had an unwritten understanding that neither one of us would touch the accounts until then. Stupid, trusting person that I am! Of course, I discovered much later that Marv had already looted the accounts. Fortunately, he agreed to pay me back my share after I threatened to have him arrested at his workplace. He even wrote me a check that didn't bounce! (But he did heap lots of verbal abuse on me as he handed it to me!)
- December 22, 2001-- My ex-husband remarries! This is his fifth marriage, to a woman he had been married to twice before, at the age of 20. They were married then for a total time of about six months. Best of luck!
- Now-- I am happier and healthier than I have been in years. My kids are doing very well, both at home and in school. With the help of some fine lawyers, there is an agreement on file that prevents my ex from defaming me to the kids and requires him to limit his interaction with me to appriopriate language and topics.
If you've been helped by this page or have other helpful links to add to my list, please write to me
Send me an email!
If you are a fundamentalist or abusive person and you flame me, I will report you.
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