I have also been the victim of emotional abuse for years. But in my case, I really believed I deserved it because I was also a substance abuser. Although I would be sober for long periods of time, and struggle hard to remain that way, the emotional hell never really ended. What I truly failed to realize was that by being so emotionally abused, I was being thrown into a hole that truly hurt my ability to recover and my ability to help myself.

I'm only now strarting to truly recover. And beginning to understand how awful my marriage is. I'm only three weeks back from rehab (I put myself there). I had been emotional, finanally, and finally physically abused -- and truly believed I deserved every minute of it. That I deserved nothing better. The counselors broke it down for me. If I didn't deserve better, then I would die. And I definately would never stay sober, because all day long I heard what an awful, terrible person I was -- how weak, and terrible, how I had ruined his life, how I would never be worth anything to anyone, how I would probably die young, etc. etc. etc. Someone finally said, "have you had enough pain yet?"

But still I came back thinking "well, I'll see if he's thought things over while I've been away. I'll see if he's changed." Even though he'd been a holy terror on the phone (to the point where I stopped calling him at all) while I was six hours away in rehab. But no, why would he change? The problems were all mine. He said I came back a bigger [censored] than ever.

It all became amazingly clear when we had an ice storm one morning and I went outside to see if it was possible to walk the dogs. I slipped, fell on the ice and cut my face up quite badly (stone cold sober). Lose teeth, lips split, mild consussion (and I have epilepsy -- so that's no joke with me)-- big gash on my eyebrown/forehead, world spinning, tons of blood. The whole nine yards. I finally stagger inside, crawl up the stairs with a kitchen towel pressed to my head and bang on the bathroom door. My pissed off husband screams at me for being so stupid, but then says yes, he will take me to the hospital. I go downstairs to wait. And wait. And wait. I try to call a cab. Operators at the cab company are busy. He's still doing his morning "routine" I guess, God knows. I'm pissed, but figuring I won't die. Then I start getting REALLY dizzy and nauseous. He comes down the stairs and starts futzing around and BITCHING at me. I said "Look, we have to go". He actually started screaming at me. I never scream at him. But seriuos amunition was required. So I grabbed the wall and screamed back top of my lungs that I was getting worse, this was seriuos, and WE NEEDED TO GET TO THE HOSPITAL NOW.

We went. When we got there, he helped me to a chair. I turned to him and told him (very calmly) "I want you to go home". He left. After 13 stiches, lots of x-rays and an MRI, I took a cab home. I didn't mention to him the questions from the social workers where I finally talked about the abuse. He actually came screaming at me again trying to tell me that he had been so upset because he had taken me to the hospital so many times before yadda, yadda, yadda. I told him I wasn't going to be treated like this anymore and that he should leave. He got really pissed and told me "I'll leave, but it's my choice." and stormed out.

I was shaking. I was hurting physically and emotionally. You wouldn't let a DOG bleed in your hallway for a hour, he lets me? asking for help? that tells me everything I need to know.

Then he whirled around with clenched fists at the bottom of the walkway to come back up. I slammed the door and threw the top deadbolt. He had keys, but that bolt has no key. I was angry, yes. But mostly I was afraid. Of him. I never realized before how afraid I was of him. He kicked the door and said he was going to call the police. I asked him what he wanted and he drove off. For 2 and 1/2 days. No word.

He reappeard after that still screaming at me for "throwing me out of his own house."

I'm through. My family supports me. They now know the truth (EVERYBODY thought he was SUCH a great guy. Hard to defend THAT story though). In moments of weakness after two days I asked his best friend and his sister if they had heard from him, and of course my family knew what happened so he generally didn't look so great (although he's got one sister who's convinced i'm a demon and he's a saint. who cares.)

listen to phil collins "I Don't Care Anymore". Take out the obvious anger and you get where I am. This marriage has nothing, absolutely nothing left for me. Nothing that matters anymore, at least. I just don't want to be hurt anymore.

He is incapable of apology but obvious trying to be "nicer" these days. How long will that last? I don't care. I truly don't. He talks all the time about the wrongs I've committed against him, but cannot see how much he has hurt me. REFUSES to see. All I want now is out. I'm worried he'll lose it when I tell him. That's my biggest fear right now.