Leora tries to run away from home to get away from Seth’s attacks, and Eli’s teacher gives me a book she has written on domestic violence. I see my husband profiled on the pages and know I can’t raise these precious children with this volatile, selfish, irrational man.
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Homeless... at Home
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Yesterday was our anniversary. By both calendars, since it's the 19th.
The past few years, I have sat down to write an end-of-year / anniversary summary of our year.
This year, though, I find it hard to think any farther back than the revelations of a week ago, when Rafi had his seizure, and Seth told me that there had been another one a year ago - told me so hesitatingly, guiltily, evasively, defensively, angrily.
I have made an appointment with a neurologist. Our family doctor checked the basic things and found Rafi to be healthy. I'm just going to ignore Seth's wishes that I not take this problem outside our home.
When the children and I were in Ohio last week for Christmas, two days after Rafi's seizure, my parents gave Eli a pogo stick and all the cousins were trying it out in Kay's driveway. When I saw Rafi, with Eli's help, bouncing up and down, all I could think of were those loose connections in his little head.
I had a forty-year-old vision of my old Tiny Tears doll. If she started leaking at the neck when I fed her, Dad (Daddy) would have to pop her head off, all dangling with tubes from the neck, and reinsert the tubes that connected her mouth to her tear ducts.
I rushed toward Eli and Rafi, stopped the bouncing pogo stick and cried, "Eli! Be careful with him!" I reminded Eli that we didn't want Rafi bounced around too much until we had had a chance to find out why he had had that seizure, as Uncle Paul had recommended.
And then I got a flash of another, more recent vision. Ruthi's son's bar mitzvah a year and a half ago, in the kibbutz clubhouse. As in Kay's driveway, a ring of grownups on the outside watching the rowdy gaggle of children in the middle, showing off for us. "Now me!", "Watch me!", "Ima, look!" And Eli was swinging Rafi around and around and Rafi was laughing, and then Seth charged in, as I had a minute ago. "Idiot! Leave him alone!" Jerking Eli out of the mass of children by the arm. "You're going to hurt him! You stupid jerk!" Lifting his hand to hit Eli, then shooting me his hate look and deciding better of it.
At the bar mitzvah, I didn't understand why Seth thought that swinging Rafi around might hurt him. But if Eli did that to Rafi now, I would react as I had to his bouncing his little brother on the pogo stick.
Because a year ago, I had never seen Rafi have a seizure.
But Seth had, hadn't he.
I wish I belonged to a culture that wails. I want to wail out my misery. My chest is full in a way that ticky-tacking on this keyboard will never relieve.
My husband - Rafi's father - had seen him have a seizure. And he didn't think it had been an inconsequential 'fainting spell', did he.
And Seth - Eli's father, too - tried to blame Eli. Tried to make Eli - gentle Eli who was helping his little brother to have a good time at the party - seem like the rough one. The one who is to blame for Rafi's problems.
Bastard. I don't think I've ever said that word out loud. But if it describes anyone, it describes a person who behaves like this.
That was the start of his vendetta against Eli and Leora, wasn't it. To turn the guilt away from himself. Toward his own seven and nine year old children. Since then, we've heard his constant litany of "They're always hitting him!" "They're always rough with him!" Seth is re-writing history, isn't he. Now, if it is discovered that Rafi has suffered from head trauma, it will sound familiar for Seth to point out, "Well, Eli and Leora are always so rough with him …"
That's the most dangerous and the most antisocial trait a person can possess. The habit of making excuses for yourself after every misdeed. Because that disables all the mechanisms for self correction and for ethical dealings with others.
Ay! Ay! Ay!
My baby is injured. My tiny boy. After all the worrying during that pregnancy and when he was in the preemie ward. After struggling to keep his weight up the first two years when it was so hard for him to eat. Worrying about his deafness and those sick spells and everything. And his father just slams him around and slams him around until he gets hurt.
Well, it's late. Time to go upstairs and crawl into bed beside the lowest creep I can imagine.
Happy 19th anniversary. Ay! Ay! Ay!
We were with Seth's parents for the weekend. On Sunday we went to the New Jersey Science Center and saw an interesting exhibit on virtual reality.
But the real demonstration of virtual reality had come on Friday evening. We sat down to eat soon after we got to his parents’ house, and once we were all served and eating, Seth's mother asked how we all were. I hurriedly shoved a huge forkful of potato salad into my mouth so that I couldn't answer. I wanted to see if Seth would respond as you would expect of a father whose six year old had had an epileptic seizure a week before.
Seth was also concentrating on his potato salad. Granted, he didn't have much time to stall before Leora volunteered, "Rafi had a seizure, Grandma!"
I haven't often seen Seth's in-control mother look shocked, but her eyes flew to Seth. Who had tisked his annoyance, and was glaring at Leora.
"Seth? You didn't mention anything like that on the phone!"
"Aw, it's nothing, Mom. He apparently hit his foot and had some sort of fainting spell."
"It was a seizure, Seth," I swallowed in time to remind him, "Like an epileptic seizure."
"Grampa used to have fainting spells," Seth reminded his mother.
I looked up at her and she was staring at Seth with a shocked look on her face. Her mouth half open.
"But this wasn't a fainting spell," I corrected gently, slowly, distinctly. "It was a seizure. Convulsions."
"I was going to call 9-1-1!" Leora declared, and proceeded to narrate the whole event in great detail, prompting Rafi for his parts in the saga. Eli nodded vigorously when she came to the part he had seen, when he and Seth came home – Rafi sitting on the table, my face and Leora's as white as Rafi's. Both of us every bit as breathless as he was.
Though Leora was talking, and Rafi was the topic of conversation, Seth's mother continued to watch Seth. There wasn't much to watch - he just stared at his food and calmly ate.
She'll never say, but I know that she was also remembering all those smacks on Rafi's little head over the years. All the times he grabbed those bony little shoulders and shook. That sound - of a crying child being shaken - 'uh-guh - uh-guh - uh-guh'. Remembering that she has told him it can cause neurological damage.
But Seth just sat there inside his grafted-on virtual reality helmet, in a different reality where none of his actions ever have consequences.
I've taken Rafi for an MRI and a CT and an EEG.
The MRI and CT came out normal, as did the exam the neurologist conducted. He said that the seizure could possibly be due to being hit as a small child, or it might be something that would have manifested itself anyway. But that it's always a good idea to avoid trauma to the head. Well, duh!
I hadn't told Seth about the visit to the doctor, or about the MRI and CT he ordered, but I needed his cooperation for the EEG - Rafi had to be kept up all night, except for two hours of sleep, poor kid.
Rafi's EEG is normal, also. I feel better now that he's been checked out. And I feel better that Seth knows I took him.
I'm so glad my baby is OK.
When the children and I were at the family reunion up at the Island, last summer, we played a game called Taboo. You have to get your team mates to guess the word at the top of the card, but there's a list of related words that you're not allowed to say while giving the hints. You stammer around and wave your arms and in the end, half the time, one of the taboo words just bursts out. I'm awful at it!
I got the game for Mom and Dad, and we played it - Mom and Dad, Kay's family and ours - this weekend when we were visiting Ohio.
And … Seth never misses. He looks at the card and just talks normally, and never pauses or grins sheepishly or stutters. And never utters a forbidden word.
We all marveled.
Does Seth always have a leak-proof filter guarding his words? So that he can be absolutely sure never to say anything that's not exactly what he means to convey? Am I always getting a processed, guarded, censored version of his thoughts?
When I converse with someone, much of the communication is by facial expression. I react non-verbally to what they say, and the other person, in turn, responds to my reaction (incredulity, amusement, intense interest...) as well as to my words.
With his poor eyesight, Seth wouldn't pick up on a non-verbal 'comment', and I wonder if I'm subconsciously thinking I'm communicating with him when I'm not. I do, of course, make many allowances for his myopia. I don't move things in the house that he might need to find. I'm careful never to leave a transparent drinking glass someplace where it wouldn't be expected.
I realize that his obsession with TV is partly due to its being a window on the world. He has probably seen the bridge of the Enterprise in more detail than he's ever seen his own living room.
Eli has so much trouble falling asleep at night. (I told him maybe that's where all his interesting ideas come from - from having time to ruminate.) He says he feels worried - but doesn't know about what. In Israel, sometimes Eli would get a teddy bear from Leora's room to sleep with. Here we don't have any stuffed animals – or any real ones, either - and last week Eli said he thought maybe that would help. A few days later, we were all in Toys R Us, and Eli and I found a nice huggable teddy bear. (THAT was the most fun I've had shopping, in a long time - going down the aisle hugging stuffed animals. Some of them purr or moo at you, nowadays.)
But Seth wouldn't let us buy it. The kid is ten years old. He's not a baby, and should just grow up. A ten year old should be ashamed to sleep with a stuffed animal.
So we didn't buy it. Last night, Eli said wistfully, "Ima, I wish we could have gotten that black bear. Of course, Abba didn't need to sleep with anything when he was my age. He moved down to Grandma and Grampa's basement to sleep. Anybody who doesn't even want to sleep near people isn't going to need to hug a bear."
I'm wondering if I should defy Seth on this one.
Wait. He just bought himself a $3000 laptop computer (which, with his infallible bad luck in buying things, had to be sent back for repair). Did he ask my permission?
I'm glad Eli is willing to express what he wants. Kay's two boys (aged nine and eleven) got nice stuffed cheetahs for Christmas and they were sleeping with them. Maybe if Seth had slept with a teddy, he would have wound up being a friendlier person. Plus the very practical fact that I'm the one who (not every night, but when Eli's insomnia really hangs on) is awakened. Seth doesn't care whether the children are asleep or not. Eli's trips to the bathroom don't interrupt his StarTrek or his sleep. Seth has always ridiculed Eli's loving, caring inclinations. Has tried to turn the word 'sensitive' into a dirty word.
I'm sitting here staring into space, sort of buzzing, thinking that I might go out today and buy that bear. I'll use my grandparents' money - maybe that will soften the blow.
Well, I went out and bought that bear. I was nearly in tears at the checkout, and I realized that this might be the first present I've ever bought for one of my children. A few years ago, I decided I was going to go out and buy anything the children NEED, without asking Seth about each thing. But I've scrupulously limited myself to school supplies and underwear. I didn't really ask permission for Leora's birthday party, this year, either, I guess. (I'm broadening my definition of what a child NEEDS.) Seth always bought the Hanukkah presents, and we don't do birthdays. I love these children so much, and it hurts so much to see Eli upset. I would do anything to help him. So now, at least I have done this.
Eli loved the bear. I think it was not only the bear itself, but the fact that Eli could come to me with a problem, and I could show that I'm with him.
The idea of buying it with my grandparents' money, though, gave me a fantastic idea. I'm sure that if my grandparents could have met these nice great-grandchildren of theirs, they would have wanted to buy something for them. So I took Leora and Rafi to Toys R Us, and had them pick out animals, too. And I told the children that if they have grandchildren I would like to have met, to please take whatever money I leave them, and buy them something nice with it. So. Happy ending.
In the twenty five years since my grandparents died, this is the first time I have spent any of their money. Once when I wanted to buy myself some clothes, and Seth said no, I offered to use that money, and he saw how unreasonable that sounded, and relented.
Something my father did years ago has affected my child raising philosophy. He opened the refrigerator, and the cat appeared. He pulled out the meat drawer and took a big pinch of ground beef from a package, and gave it to her. He said he keeps that package there for her. Why? Well, she's a member of this household, and needs to know she deserves consideration. And that the other members will do things just for her. A cat can only understand this in terms of food.
Well, I want Eli, Leora and Rafi to understand that, too.
Guess what! Ima talked back to Abba for the first time!
We were walking to the kosher pizza place and Abba said he wonders if they'll ever get right on red after stop in Israel.
I didn't understand what he meant, so I said, "What do you mean?"
And he said, in that nasty way where his voice stamps each word (like what you do with your feet when you stamp), "I! mean! what! I! said!" Abba says that any time he says something and we don’t understand it.
And Ima burst out, "Don't say that to the children, Seth. They SHOULD be asking for explanations if they don't understand something."
He gave her a shocked, angry look. We were all so surprised! Even Ima, I think.
Abba always calls us kids and Ima always calls us children. Children, to me, sounds like your dear little ones that you love with all your heart. Kids is another name for baby goats.
Love, Leora
It puts up such a wall when you have a skeleton in your closet.
My skeleton, of course, is that I'm a convert and Seth doesn't want anybody to know. We never mention it, between us, and if I read to him from a letter from my parents, and my mother mentions a church event or holiday, Seth starts stamping his feet to drown out my words.
When the children and I came back here after soaking up a week's worth of Christmas, I had to remind them that it's not something we talk about to other people. Get them in on the conspiracy.
It's one of those facts that - if you don't mention it, it's not giving the true picture, and if you do, it might be given too much significance.
Like - I don't know whether I need to tell the school, here, about Seth's treatment of the children. Maybe it's not significant, and would be given unwarranted significance if I did mention it. But maybe it is significant, and the children will be managed more appropriately if the problems at home are acknowledged.
It has finally started snowing. I had wondered whether my poor Israeli children were going to see any snow at all this winter.
The children and I sledded at Sara's across the street, then watched a movie while we ate supper in the play room. Seth ate alone and went for a solitary walk. That's OK. He gets depressed by too much merriment. I would rather have him recognize this, and stay off by himself, than to be around us and pull us down to his grumpy level.
On Sunday, the children and I sledded and built a snowman. Eli made a bird feeder out of a milk bottle. We made molasses candy on snow. Leora is into kitchen chemistry lately. Seth had escaped with Rafi to the Air&Space museum for the afternoon.
It's too bad Rafi missed it. Everything was so lively and so friendly. This is home. This is what my childhood was.
This Confederate Widow book continues to spook me. She's been thinking of leaving her crazy husband, but never gets around to it. Now he has blinded their son on a hunting trip, and she berates herself for procrastinating.
I tell myself that if something really bad happens, I'll get the children out. Sounds like some fool's formula for investing in stocks. Wait till it plunges, and then unload it. Sure fire way to lose.
The revelation of Rafi's siezure - if I read about that in a book, wouldn't I be screaming at the child's mother to count that as the Big One and get the children out?
We intellectualize too much. A cave mother, watching her child being hurt, wouldn't sit there saying, "Well, maybe Ugg is going to stop any second now, and maybe it'll just be worse if I interfere ..." She would grab the nearest mastodon tusk and start swinging and screaming. I have done a worse job at protecting my children than your average chicken.
Poor Leora. I always thought she was so tough. But I think Seth has finally gotten to her. For years he's been trying to break her spirit. I think that what he has finally broken is her heart.
Yesterday evening, I was getting supper on the table, and the children were watching TV up in our room. Seth came home, and went up and joined them. I was just taking the salmon loaf out of the oven, when Leora came down. In tears. More than that. In an emotional state I have never seen before. She was ... I guess 'devastated' is the word. My sunny, philosophical, bossy, tough, know it all, 'names can never hurt me' Leora. At first she was incoherent. At first it was just "Ima" over and over. Wrenching sobs. Gulping for air. Verging on hysteria. I wondered, if she had gotten hurt, why Seth hadn't attended to her. Why he hadn't followed her downstairs to explain what had happened. Then, "See? See, Ima? He hates us! He has always hated us and he always will, and he'll never change. You keep saying he has changed, but he hasn't."
"Leora! Honey!" I hugged her. "Nobody hates you! What happened?"
Through her hiccuping sobs, I finally got the gist of what had happened. On TV, there had been something about punishment. And Seth declared, "I've had three punishments in my life, and their names are Eli, Leora and Rafi."
Of course, I said what you say in a case like that, "Oh, Honey, he didn't say that. Maybe you heard him wrong. Here, we're ready to eat. Salmon loaf and mashed potatoes and blue lake green beans, just like Gram makes. Your favorite meal. Go call Abba and the boys, and let's eat."
"I'm not going to call Abba. He hates me. I'm just a punishment to him."
Leora looked at me and sobbed, "Ima! He's the only father we've got!"
It was a quiet meal. When Leora is away for a meal, things are much quieter than when she's around. When she's there, but quiet, staring into her plate, it's even worse. Wiping her eyes now and then, sniffing, leaning on an elbow, preoccupied, pushing the food around. Sighing jagged sighs. Leora. 'My light'. She really does light up my life, and the whole household. Last night she was a very weak glimmer. After a few minutes of trying to eat, she went up to her room. None of us looked at Seth during that meal.
It's not even so much what Seth said. My father, for all his joking around, would never have said anything like that, but if he did, we would have grinned and given his shoulder a push and said, "Aw, Dad! You're kidding! We're not punishments for you!" Knowing that Dad is really chest-swelling proud of each of us. That he feels we're his four greatest blessings. That the worst punishment he could experience would be to lose one of his children. Doesn't Seth see that everything these children have experienced with him since as long ago as they can remember, all indicate that he might really feel punished by having them? Couldn't he see that his statement would hit home? Would hurt them? Or did he want to hurt them? Why would he do everything he does, if he didn't enjoy hurting us?
That one statement brought back for Leora all the abuse she has gotten from Seth over the years. It made this last year, when he isn't actually hitting them, telescope down to insignificance.
I really think that Seth has … lost one of his children.
Ima keeps telling us that Abba is better now, just because he's not hitting anymore. But he didn't change at all. He is still him, inside.
I hate it when I know he hates us.
Me and my brothers were watching TV tonight. Abba came in and said, "I have three punishments in my life, and they're Eli, Leora and Rafi."
And I knew he wasn't joking.
I stumbled down to Ima. I felt like I was fainting or dying or something.
When Ima saw how sad I was, she sat down on the floor, and I sat on her lap. I told her that Abba said the three of us kids are his punishments. She said, "I'm sure he meant it as a joke." But she knew it wasn't.
I couldn't eat anything, so I came up here to write to you.
Love, Leora
PS - On Friday I have to give in my report to Mrs. P.
The things I typically say to try to calm things down after Seth hurts them are unfair to the children. Their perceptions are legitimate, and I try to pretend that things are better than they seem.
When they went to bed last night, Leora asked Eli if he thought Seth was joking. Eli said that Seth was probably trying to be funny, but that it was an awful thing to say.
It's too bad, because just the day before, Leora had whispered to me that Abba was being nice to her the past couple of days and she didn't know why.
Last week Leora was talking about whether Rafi should stay with Abba if we get a divorce. She seems more confident than I am that one is inevitable. Eli said he didn't want to talk about divorce.
Last week, Seth pretended to roar at Rafi for something he wasn't really mad about, and Rafi thought he was serious, and came running to me, screaming, afraid. What does Seth expect?
Well, there have been repercussions of Seth's mean comment two days ago.
I was helping out in the first grade class this morning and the headmaster and Leora's teacher came in, looking very much upset. The headmaster said, "Um, Ms. Dekel? Um ... We ..." He indicated Anne, "Well, we don't exactly know where Leora is ..."
"You don't???"
"No ... She seems to have ... run away." The headmaster looked at Anne.
"Shlomit, I just told her that her report wasn't long enough and that she should add to it, and she ran from the room shouting, 'Now you hate me, too. Everybody hates me!' I had no idea she would leave the building, but we've looked for her everywhere."
"OK," I said, breathlessly, putting down the pile of homework papers I was distributing, and getting a nod from the teacher I was helping, "I'll check at home."
My Leora. My Leora. There's no worse feeling than wanting to hold your child, knowing she is afraid and alone, and not knowing where she is.
I half-ran toward home, though the gray March morning, and the Sussmans' familiar brown station wagon pulled up alongside me. "She's OK, Shlomit. She's on your front porch waiting for you,” said my neighbor, mother of six. She grinned. "I gave her my jacket."
"Thanks!" I called as I trotted on.
Leora was on our porch, wrapped in a big parka. "I'm running away from home, Ima. But Mrs. Sussman said I should get some stuff, first. Warm clothes and food. Anyway, I wanted to say good bye to you, Ima, but you weren't home." She dissolved into tears, and I realized how infrequently Leora ever cries.
"Leora, you have to go back to school. They're looking all over for you."
"I'm not going back to school. And I'm not living in this house anymore where Abba hates me. And Mrs. P hates me now, too." At this she broke down. Leora idolizes her teacher.
"We have to go back to school, Honey. Mrs. P can get in trouble if you're supposed to be in the school building and you're not. We can talk about it afterwards."
So we went to the headmaster's office. I should have talked to him first and given him the background - explained that Leora was reacting to what had happened at home earlier in the week. That the school was just getting the fallout. But, not understanding the situation, he started scolding her as soon as we walked in. "Leora, you must never leave the school building without permission!" Leora wailed and ran out of the office. "I'm sorry, " I said, "there's a bad situation at home right now. I'll just take Leora home, if that's OK, and I'll talk with you later?"
Leora and I hugged and rocked for a long time. I explained that the headmaster was just doing his job, and that Mrs. P was right to tell her where she needs to improve her work. "And deep down in his heart, Abba does love us." I was only quoting what Seth's mother has said to me a dozen times, and what I have told myself hundreds of times. But I know I don't believe it anymore. And my tuned-in-to-reality daughter doesn't believe it, either.
Finally Leora cried herself to sleep. And I came down to the family room to write this up.
I'll have some company today; Leora has been suspended from school for a day, for leaving school grounds without permission.
Her teacher said Leora has seemed upset for a couple of days, and she thought I should know how Leora answered a question she posed to the class the day before. They're talking about what things make them feel good, and what makes them feel bad, and what they can do when they feel bad, to help themselves feel good. This is a unit on drug abuse. Leora's contribution was that she feels scared when Eli sometimes acts as mean as their father is.
I can relate to Leora's feeling of wanting to just step out of her life, but of having no place to run to. Maybe that's why extended families should live close together. So there's always an aunt or cousin to take you in.
I don't know how much I should tell the headmaster, tomorrow, about Seth.
Today I tried to do what I have done for the past three years when Seth is especially bad, and I'm especially discouraged. I decided to read the printout of a diary entry I carry around in my wallet for just such occasions.
One day, Seth seemed so cheerful and normal, and I was so happy, that I wrote it all into my diary. I printed it out, and I since then I read about that good day when I need to renew my hope for the future.
Today, when I went looking for the paper, in the zipper pocket where I keep my driver's license, at first I thought it wasn't there. I was looking for the fresh crisp page it had been when I first put it in there. This ratty re-creased paper stuck in here couldn't be it, could it?
But it was. Furry and falling apart at the creases. So worn in places that the words have nearly disappeared.
And I realized that it's been many many times over the months that I have needed to give myself an infusion of hope for the marriage and the family.
But today, even reading about how he greeted me with a smile and helped Leora with her homework and played with the boys, didn't give the desired rush of hope. I feel like a ball that has lost its bounce.
I have this dog-eared piece of paper in front of me. It's entitled, "Good Day". But by now, its message is as worn and tattered and limp as the page on which it is printed.
Today I went to the school to talk to the headmaster and to Leora's teacher.
Somehow, their obvious concern for Leora and for our family caused me to reveal more than I had intended about the situation between Seth and the children.
The headmaster was concerned and apologetic, and said he wished he had known.
He told me I should get away from Seth. For my sake as well as the children's. That I'm young and pleasant and have my whole life ahead of me. I have so much to offer. I should not stay with an abusive husband.
He asked whether the children have had counseling. By the time social services in Israel tried to set up family counseling, the worst of the physical violence had stopped (because of Rafi's seizure, I now realize) so nothing more was done. We came over here soon after. Now that the headmaster mentioned it, it seems obvious that they should be helped to resolve their feelings, even if they're not being hit right now.
Anne was also shocked to hear what Leora had been going through at home since she was small. Smaller. "You should talk to Kathi," she told me as we left the meeting.
Eli's math teacher has researched the topic of domestic violence, especially as it is dealt with (or not dealt with) by the Christian church. And she even wrote a book on the subject. It's called, 'Battered Helpmate'.
I caught Kathi just before she left for home, and she promised to bring me a copy of her book tomorrow.
If anyone had told me that one of the most serious conversations of my life would take place with a clown with a red nose and multicolored strips of foil for hair, I would have been quite surprised.
Today was the Purim carnival at school. It was hilarious. The headmaster dressed as a vampire, and all the children were in such imaginative costumes.
In the middle of the show, Kathi (as a floppy, funny clown) came and told me she had a copy of her book in her car, so we went out to get it - I was in scrubs and stethoscope with little stuffed creatures peeking out of all my pockets.
Kathi gave me a much-needed reality check. She said that if Seth is so bad with the children now, when they're small, he'll really go ballistic once they're teenagers and will be expecting to make decisions for themselves.
It's amazing how little you can know about a person. I know Kathi as a fantastic math / science teacher who has finally shown Eli that he can learn. Has given him a feeling of self-confidence about school, and love of math and science, that he has never had before. I would never have guessed that she has also done extensive research on abusive households and is pushing to get the church to take a more active role in helping the battered families in its midst.
Watching Kathi talk about such a serious subject, with the big wide ear-to-ear lipstick clown grin that never left her face no matter how sad her words and her eyes, reminded me of myself all the years. Keeping that grin firmly in place. So the children wouldn't realize that I, too, was scared. It reminded me of what I see in photographs of Eli. The 'cheese' smile underneath his sad, haunted, frightened eyes.
OK. I'm going to bed now. Leora seems better except when Seth is in the same room. I'll read "Battered Helpmate" tomorrow.
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All material quoted from the book 'Battered Helpmate' is under copyright (1990) by Kathi Whong Edwards. It is used here with the permission of the author.
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Wow.
I'm reading Kathi's book. I can't even read it sitting down. I'm pacing or standing. Exclaiming out loud. Crying, here and there, too.
I'm reading with a highlighter in hand, and just about every paragraph has yellowed phrases, now.
How is it that Seth, and so many of the men Kathi studied, thought up the same techniques? If you asked a normal healthy person draw up a plan for torturing another person, or even just for making sure to always get their own way, they wouldn't think of more than a couple of these tactics. How do these abusers instinctively come up with the whole set? Are people like Seth just programmed differently from the rest of us?
The book discusses several universally used psychological techniques: verbal abuse, inconsistency, traumatic bonding, and the religious factor. Quotes from the women she interviewed give examples of each technique. So many of them describe things Seth has used against us.
- - - Verbal Abuse - - -
BATTERED HELPMATE >>> "… the insult, the put down, the disrespectful tone."
BH (interview) >>> "… calling me stupid, telling me I couldn't do anything right, and always degrading me any way he could … calling me names … I was incompetent, ugly, stupid, and fat. … He would put me down sexually with insults. … He rejected me sexually early in the marriage."
These paragraphs remind me of the early years of our marriage. There isn't such a constant barrage aimed at me now that we have children. Because now he spreads his insults among the four of us.
Whew. I just 'watched' one of those film strips they used to show us in grammar school. A collage of the nineteen years of our marriage flashed by in my head. And I realize another reason the barrage has lessened. He doesn't have to work very hard, anymore, to convince me that I had better not risk his anger. The job is done. In fact, I do it myself, now, before he gets a chance.
As I wrote that, I had a thought that brought tears to my eyes. Back when we were first married, I used to 'watch' a filmstrip of how I thought our marriage would unfold, over the years. I imagined doing things together, getting to know and trust each other. Friendly glances that could say so much because we would know each other so well by then. We would fix up our home together. Raise our children together. That movie portrayed an alternate reality.
- - - Inconsistency - - -
BH >>> "… the adjustment she must make to the constant, inconsistent, and unpredictable mood swings displayed by her husband."
BH (interview) >>> "The only thing predictable about Fred was that he was predictably erratic. … It was like walking on eggs. I never knew how he was going to react."
BH >>> "… they don't have any control over what they do. They don't even remember it afterwards."
For every paragraph on this page, a dozen examples from our marriage flash into my mind. I have exclamation points in the margin, next to the highlighting. I'm not imagining it. I'm not the only person to be subjected to this.
And, here I am, exactly:
BH >>> "… stifle her own moods, doubt herself, and cease to make decisions. She lives in fear and emotional paralysis. She has no control over her own life. … no matter which way she steps an egg will break, so she is unable to proceed."
There I am. Over and over, thinking of something I should do, say, buy, and then thinking of any one of his myriad possible reactions, and deciding, 'Better not.'
BH (interview) >>> "I ceased to be who I was. It was like I had a split personality, the me that I was when I was around others, and the me that I had to be to keep from rocking the boat too much when I was around Tom. I think I eventually got confused about which me was really me."
If Seth didn’t go on his business trips, we might not even know there was a ‘real us’.
- - - Traumatic Bonding - - -
BH >>> "The only person around is her husband, who, feeling guilty, may offer affection to make up for his misdeeds. His wife needs affection so badly at this point that she accepts it. The source of the pain now becomes the source of the relief."
That was us, in the hospital after Rafi was born. I was flooded with relief that Seth was back on my side after he had abandoned me during the pregnancy. I longed for his visits. I promised myself that if I survived, I would try to be a better wife.
- - - The Religious Factor - - -
BH >>> "...her duty to remain with her man."
In Judaism, 'Shalom Bait' - peace at home, or harmony between husband and wife - is considered of utmost importance in society. I would be failing not only Seth and the children, if I let us split up, but the way I had been raised.
I guess the one being hurt always asks, 'Why me?'
BATTERED HELPMATE >>> "… inability to deal with unreasonable people. Maybe the other people in her life are all reasonable ...."
BH >>> "They are willing to be "Mommy" to an emotionally immature man, to care for him and make him feel more important. Ironically, they lack the most important mothering technique, that of demanding that the "child" grow up!"
Maybe this is why, davka now, I have lost patience with Seth’s immature tantrums. I have been mothering him for nineteen years. When a child gets to this age, your urge is to push him from the nest. I need Seth to grow up, now.
This chapter is full of sentences I underlined because they describe what I feel.
Here at the end of the chapter Kathi describes the emotional state of ‘Emancipation’.
BH >>> "There is one more emotional state we should look at. It is one the woman cannot experience unless the relationship ends. I include it here because women's reactions to freedom help demonstrate the emotional burden they had previously been forced to bear. … overwhelming sense of freedom … at long last she can let down her guard and relax."
BH (interview) >>> "I felt happy, excited, scared, triumphant, relieved, emancipated!" - "I felt relief! I was just so happy to get out, I agreed to everything he wanted in the divorce settlement."
BH (interview) >>> "I can remember watching a show on TV where they interviewed a lady who was in jail for murdering her husband after a lifetime of being abused by him. She said she liked being in prison, because prisoners have some basic rights and protections that battered wives do not."
I'm trying to imagine a future where every week of the year is like the weeks Seth is away on business. When we laugh and cuddle. Cook and eat good food. Visit people. Have serious (or not so serious!) conversations at dinner, without the scrapping and snarling. The children would be able to come out of their shells and stay out.
Once he gets on that plane, I'm in a state of euphoria. We all are. I look up and around at the world instead of down at my feet. I talk to neighbors and to strangers. People inevitably comment, "You're different from how you usually are!" Life is so easy when it's just us.
BATTERED HELPMATE >>> "The abusive relationship creates a home environment that is far different from most people's experiences. … the battered wife must adjust to her marriage."
Kathi discusses adaptations that are all too familiar to me. The cautious behavior, the cover up, the false hope and the self-sacrifice.
- - - Cautious Behavior - - -
This is me!!!!!
BH >>> "The battered wife knows that her husband is a powder keg that could go off at any moment. She expends enormous amounts of energy just trying to keep the peace. She is always trying to please and appease, always fearful that she will make a wrong move. Her diligence does not stop even when she is ill or pregnant."
And look! Me with Rafi:
BH (interview) >>> "I was two months pregnant and I started bleeding. I went to the hospital and they told me to stay off my feet. I came home and lay down for awhile, but then I got to thinking about Tom coming home soon, and the toys were scattered all over and I hadn't made the bed. I straightened up and even vacuumed so he wouldn't come home to a messy house and be mad. I had a miscarriage that evening."
BH >>> "This cautiousness contradicts the popular belief that women ... do something to provoke it. … it takes so little to provoke an abusive man. The "provocations" leading to a violent incident are too trivial even to be called provocations."
We never know what Seth’s triggers are.
- - - Cover-up - - -
BH >>> "… rationalized their husband's behavior by attributing it to insanity, a temporary period of rebellion, a physical health problem, ... a lousy childhood or a combination thereof"
Right. So many sentences in this diary start with 'Maybe he ...'
- - - False Hope - - -
BH >>> "She may feel that a few changes in the total situation would make a difference. … but nothing changes. The problem is not caused by all these external things. The problem is in the abuser. Until he changes, nothing will change."
Until Seth changes, nothing will change. I can try to fix things but until he changes, nothing will change, will it.
- - - Self Sacrifice - - -
BH >>> "Related to false hope is the sense of duty and responsibility the wife may feel for her abusive husband. He is a sick man and needs help. She is his Florence Nightingale."
Ah. How many times did I tell myself just that.
Ah. Yes. Why.
Among other reasons, Kathi mentions reputation, children and threats.
- - - Reputation - - -
BH >>> "Embarrassment might be a reason for staying. It is hard to admit publicly that you have been degraded and taken advantage of by your own spouse."
- - - Children - - -
BH >>> "She does not want to make them fatherless, economically disadvantaged, or forced to bear the stigma of divorce."
But Eli and Leora and Rafi have been fatherless all along.
- - - Threats - - -
BH >>> "One real threat the woman may face if she leaves is retaliation."
BH (interview) >>> "... rather than threats of bodily harm, Vern used custody of the children. He would have her declared an unfit mother because the house was messy."
At Sandy's he said I wasn't a good mother. I wondered, then, if he was laying the groundwork for a custody battle. And he doesn't even like them.
Kathi mentions violent background, low self esteem, manipulation, extreme jealousy, poor verbal communication, inability to love, dual personality, attitudes and values.
- - - Violent Background - - -
BH >>> "… they generally do have a poor relationship with their parents, and may have been abused themselves, or at least neglected..."
Two workaholic parents - it might have felt like neglect to Seth.
BH (interview) >>> "… was mean to the cat ..."
That disturbing incident with Stripes years ago - scaring her just to scare her, and feeling so gleeful that she feared him. Is that the high he gets from hurting us?
- - - Low Self-esteem - - -
BH >>> "They are insecure, dependent, and lack assertiveness in other areas of their lives."
BH (interview) >>> "Tom couldn't make decisions. … I learned early to just give him the affirmation and compliments he was seeking. … He was a brilliant man who needed to prove it over and over again. He viewed the world as out to get him. … frightened on the inside and macho on the outside. He was really very dependent on me."
The decisions Seth demands to make are the trivial ones that couldn't really go wrong - what to eat, how to clean, what I should read. I'm left with the things that matter - how the children are raised and educated.
BH >>> "In addition, he may doubt his masculinity and sexuality, even fearing he may be a homosexual."
Seth's crush on Sam made me wonder.
- - - Manipulation - - -
BH >>> "Domination, rigidity. He must be right. He must be in control. If guilt and persuasion don't work, violence becomes necessary. Independence of action and thought are an affront to him, proof that he has lost control. His wife finds herself constantly in the role of having to appease, to adjust to avoid the slightest word or action that might suggest that she differs from him in any way."
That time when Seth shouted at me, 'You're just like me! We don't need other people!'
BH (interview) >>> "… the television … he was king of the castle and sheriff of the TV..."
Wow! The TV thing! 'I didn't say you could turn it off!' His obsession with controlling the television was one thing I was sure was pure Seth. And here it is, mentioned in Kathi's book!
BH >>> "Abusive men need to control everything ... denied access to checking accounts and money ... made plans without consulting the wife, resulting in her having to change hers if there was a conflict ... demanded privacy but had no respect for anyone else's ... rejected the wife sexually."
That's my husband, isn't it. That's my marriage.
- - - Extreme Jealousy - - -
BH >>> "...fearing to let his partner out of his sight"
Seth’s not wanting me to go out in the evening. Hating the idea that I was at work, out from under his scrutiny, but then hating the idea that I was at home, with freedom, when I took those months off. No wonder he wanted me to work with him - ride the bus with him, eat lunch with him, be where he could always check up on me.
- - - Poor verbal communication - - -
BH >>> "… unable to identify or express feelings, and unable to articulate needs … I should innately know his wants and needs. And if I didn't, that was proof that I really didn't love him."
Seth’s requirement that we communicate in hints.
- - - Incapable of loving - - -
BH >>> "… or even of receiving love. The 'love' they have for their wives would more appropriately be called possession."
- - - Dual Personality - - -
BH >>> "erratic mood swings, leaving their wives constantly unsure of what their reaction will be to any given circumstance."
Been there – seen that.
- - - Attitudes and Values - - -
BH >>> "he must be in charge, define all goals, and make all decisions. Things go his way, and his way only. He must receive deferential treatment from his wife and children even when his demands are unreasonable. … the king when it came to sex: when, where and how often."
Seth has always tried to strip me of everything that is ME.
BH >>> "He has missed the boat as to what life is all about."
He really has, hasn't he. Poor Seth.
BATTERED HELPMATE >>> "Psychological abuse is his trade mark. It is what sets the stage for physical abuse and enables him to get away with it ... a kind of brainwashing … The tactics used are the same as those listed by Amnesty International in their Report on Torture."
Seth always knew just what to do to be mean to us. When I saw the list in this chapter, I realized that he didn't have to figure it out - it just comes naturally to some people. A normal person would never think up these tactics. I don't want to be married to someone who did.
The psychological games Seth played with me really did allow the physical attacks on Eli, Leora and Rafi, didn't they. If I hadn't already feared Seth, I might have been able to stand up to him when he got physically abusive with the children.
Kathi lists the tactics of isolation, monopolization of perception, demonstration of omnipotence, enforcing trivial demands, threats, induced debility and exhaustion.
- - - Isolation - - -
BH >>> "… systematically eliminates outside contacts by objecting to the wife's friends … may even purposely move his household away from family and friends … it gives him a monopoly on the wife's social contact. His views on her value and dignity are the only ones she hears. She has no opportunity to prove herself in any other arena. Any dictator worth his salt will tell you that isolation is a necessary tool of effective brain washing."
Moving to Israel?
- - - Monopolization of perception - - -
BH >>> "… keep the wife away from outside influences … censored his wife's mail … no social life unless he arranged it."
Seth said that my friend at work was poisoning my mind against him.
- - - Demonstrations of Omnipotence - - -
Seth does this thing where he puts his hands on my neck, or one of the children's necks and says gleefully, "I could snap your little neck if I wanted to."
- - - Enforcing Trivial Demands - - -
BH >>> By insisting on very trivial requirements, the abuser alleviates the need to enforce bigger ones. If the consequences for not folding the towels the correct way are so dire, heaven help the wife if she does something really bad."
- - - Threats - - -
BH >>> "… when you're dealing with a maniac … no empty threat!"
- - - Induced Debility and Exhaustion - - -
BH >>> "… to weaken the victim of abuse and make her less likely to rebel … totally drained from trying to meet the husband's unreasonable demands … even when sick."
There it is. The unhealthy diet, lack of sleep, cold showers, over-exertion during my pregnancy with Rafi.
Oh, good! Maybe this chapter will help me understand what sets him off. Kathi mentions perceived threat, sadism and his own reactions to his behavior.
- - - Perceived Threat - - -
BH >>> "… that he has not maintained dominance and total control … perception that he's losing control of situations, his wife, his life."
At Sandy it came out that he really remembers me as actually taking liberties he was afraid I would take.
- - - Sadism - - -
Over the years, there have been way more violent incidents than sexual encounters, so I guess it's not that the violence turns Seth on.
- - - Reactions - - -
What I always wondered. Now can he live with himself afterwards?
BH >>> "… few men understand their violent behavior … feel that it is normal … their duty … no sense of guilt or shame … defended their right to their behavior, assigning blame to the wife …"
BH (interview) >>> … "He said, 'I never hit you' He doesn't even remember!"
I often find myself, when I finish a good book, holding it to my chest afterwards.
As I hugged Battered Helpmate, I felt that I was hugging all of those women who were living with abusive men.
I sat there for a good half-hour, breathing hard, staring into space, while the ramifications swirled around.
I can't stay with Seth, can I.
I can't stay with my husband. I can't stay with Seth.
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All material quoted from the book 'Battered Helpmate' is under copyright (1990) by Kathi Whong Edwards. It is used here with the permission of the author.
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Copyright 2020 Shlomit Weber
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