A look at the past

I found an old blog today.  It was hard to read, but I’m glad that I did.  I’m actually glad that I still have some of the old blogs that I wrote, when I was so deeply entrenched in the abuse that I never thought I would get out.  It’s makes me sad though, to think that I was convinced that life would never change.  The following is a post that I wrote more than 2 years ago, before the very first time I left my abuser.  Of course, there was a lot of leaving and coming back to follow, a lot of confusion and doubt.  But now I can look back with amazement at how far I’ve come.  It’s a great feeling to know that I’m not that person anymore.
I don’t know why I do this to myself. I must be a horrible person. It would be better for everyone in the world if I didn’t exist anymore. I thought I was an OK person until I met him. He has done nothing but remind me how useless and awful I am for the last 5 years. He has beaten me, screamed at me, called me names, and threatened to kill me. He has never been the sweet, loving husband that I had hoped to have – at least not for longer than a few minutes at a time. He hasn’t held a conventional job for almost 5 years now, and expects me to support our family by myself. He has expected that I would do everything – from providing the income, to keeping the house clean and perfect, to raising his daughter – all so that he can live his life. It wouldn’t matter to him if I didn’t show up after work – he hopes that I die. Then his life will be happy. He hates me, and there is nothing that I can do about it. But he won’t let me leave, because then he will have to support himself and his daughter.

Once upon a time I thought that I was a brilliant woman, full of potential. Now, I am nothing. My fate has been sealed, all because I chose to marry the wrong man. Everyday I must face the reality of my mistake, and there is nothing that I can do about it. All I can pray for is to die young, so that I don’t have to live like this for the next 50 or 60 years. I’m completely trapped, and I did it to myself. My hopes and dreams will never be fulfilled – I’ll never be able to go to school, have babies, travel the world, have friends, be close to my family. I have to lie to everyone, including myself, just to make it through the day.

In his eyes I am nothing more than a piece of garbage. The sadder part, is that has become what I see when I look into the mirror. I’ll never be able to make him happy, and because of that I will be miserable for the rest of my life. But I won’t leave him. I can’t. I made a committment before God, and my family and friends, and I won’t break that. Does that make me crazy? Maybe it does. So maybe all of this really is my own fault, and I can remember that everytime there is a new bruise.