37

"Why don't I leave?" It's an obvious question. In a lot of regards my husband is not respecting me. He has hurt me, physically and mentally. He married me, knowing if I'd known some secrets, I never would have committed to him. I still wonder how many women I don't know about.

I'm amazed I can donate blood.

I remember one time I had a horrible bladder infection. The antibiotic created a nasty yeast infection. Ron was feeling "romantic" - about 1 month after I ran off with him. I told him, I have the bladder infection and the yeast infection. "Well, what GOOD are you?"

When I got sick, he'd have pity parties about how "Sickly" I was. How he "deserved better" and "Even his father got 30 years or so out of his mother". I hear a statement like that and I go huh? But he still says that.

Pretty much the whole time we've been together, I wanted to leave him. Awful as things were with Ron, they were better than the alternative. He was also good at doing the honeymoon thing, at least for the first couple years. "Oh, I'm a beast, how can you ever love me? Let me get you a present, and take you out..." GACK.

Well, the report that diagnosed me with FAS also said I was "Extremely naive and trusting". Ugh. Sometimes, I hate that. I automatically see the good in everyone. UGH.

Sometimes the economics didn't work. Even though I made 18K a year, actually double what I make now (ha ha), I couldn't afford to move out. In the late 90's the housing market was EXTREME. Apartments started at $1,200 a month. We rented a bad apartment in a horrible neigbhorhood for $900.

When I moved to Texas, I told him "Why don't you stay behind until I'm sure it'll work. I don't want you to quit your job if things don't work out". He INSISTED. On some level, he knew he would never hear from me again - except for the "Dear Ron" phone call once I got out of California. He came home one day and said he had quit his job, showed me the double-signed resignation letter. I wonder how many alternate timelines have had us separated since then.

I supported him for a year. On some level I knew about the two co-workers. The "friends" - until he got drunk one night and told me ALL the details. I didn't want the details.

That was actually the most peaceful year of our relationship - he was financially dependent on me. I was the breadwinner. He was kind, courteous, and respectful. From what I recall, he didn't name call, wake me up at night, or get stupid drunk every night. He was supportive and fairly understanding. It was a very anxious time of my life, trying to get settled.

Then he got the business. I quit my job and went to work for him. At first, 16 hour days. We paid the rent out of my salary. Now he says I can't leave without "Dropping a nuclear bomb on his life". In some respects, he's right. He would most likely be unable to work if I left him. You've heard of a supportive workshop - that's me. One day he got very angry at me, and said I didn't do anything to help him.

I requested he make a list of his duties, and a list of mine. His was about a dozen. He stopped compiling mine when he got to 37. I do a lot more than that.

I could run the business without him. He would need a very reliable, honest person. One who is patient, not afraid of physical labor, and enjoys getting hands dirty. One who is happy to do as told, do very repetitive tasks, control inventory and cash, ordering, receiving, book-keeping, while managing all their standard duties without constant nagging. Good luck! The other vendors have been in the business for 20 years, and they're still looking! Their best employee is a family member.

He could have the other vendors manage his business for him; which is what they would do if something did happen to me. I've strongly suggested it.

The thought of spending the rest of one life (his or mine) shackled to a man who disrespects me, curses me, sees no value, gets stupid drunk and verbally abusive on a nightly basis, and has admitted he is kinder to animals than he he to me... sickening. I take this to God, constantly.

Today, he said "Love him". That's all I need to do.

Lord, I can't. He is so hateful. "Let me put my love in your heart, for him."

Last night, I had a dream/nightmare I was raped, but because of the rape, God was able to reach many many people. "Would you allow that in your life?" Yes, I would, Lord. Raped, tortured, beaten, if it's for You I accept. "What he's doing to you is rape, but I need to allow this so We can reach people. Leave him to me, I WILL repay" (Hebrews 10:30)

So I ask God to put his Words in my mouth.
His thoughts in my head.
His love in my heart.
And I feel sorry for my husband. Not a guilt or obligation pity thing; just "You poor dumb bastard, you've got it all wrong but no one can tell you, because you're PROUD!"

I hate to think how God will get his attention; but He will.

So I smile as I hand out my candy and Bibles everywhere I go, knowing that God is using me, and He cries with me everytime Ron goes off.