IrishMist -> RE: Reality or fantasy? (4/2/2009 8:07:23 PM)
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Ahh Misst, you sure love to stir the cauldron lol. I was very young when I got together with my late husband…I met him when I was 16 and moved in with him two days after I turned 18; against the advice of my parents, I might add. ( He was quite a bit older than me by 23 years ) The time in between when I first met him and when I moved in with him was spent learning about each other…oh yes, he was not hesitant about going after what he wanted, despite the legal aspects of ‘messing’ with a teenager. He had decided he wanted me and as far as he was concerned, that was all there was to it; so he set out to show me that I needed him as much as he wanted me. Learning about each other; a lot of people automatically think in terms of discussing dreams, goals, wants and needs with a partner and seeing if they connect in that area. Not us. Our getting to know each other consisted of …. Him telling me exactly and in great detail, what would be required of me. IF…IF he allowed me to work, all paychecks would go directly into HIS account; I was to have no access, whatsoever, to any form of money/credit. I move into HIS house. It remains HIS house; in HIS name. All bills are in HIS name, he will pay them. He will carry ALL insurance on me; medical, dental, and life. He had his three youngins living with him from a previous marriage ( he had full custody with no visitation for the mother ); I would take over their care, following the rules that he set for them. I was to see to it that they were fed, clothed, given homework help, etc etc. There were quite a few more that were on this master list that he had, but I think you get the general idea. He was, to put it simply…a strong and vocal dictator who wanted things HIS way…no questions asked, no exceptions. Other areas covered the facts that…Yes, he was extremely abusive; physically, mentally and emotionally. He knew it. I knew it. He did not bother to try and hide it; I did not ask him to try and hide it. I LIKED it. I liked abuse. So, in that respect, we were perfect for each other. He could beat on me all he wanted, when he wanted, however he wanted…and in return, he gave me free reign to do the same with him. The only absolute rule he had in this area was that the youngins were to NEVER witness it; and it was a rule he followed for himself also. He never, not once in 15 years, laid a hand on me in front of them; nor did he ever, not once in 15 years, ever put me down in front of them. So. Here I am with a man, a lot older than me, with three youngins, and I agreed to his wishes. When I got pregnant, I actually legally signed over total custody and guardianship to him. He did not even have to ask me to do it; I did it on my own simply because…that’s the way he wanted it, so that’s the way it was. If I had one day decided that I was tired of him and wanted to leave…it would be without her. So, Here I am, living with a man, raising a family….and having no life of my own…or at least that is what I was constantly told by friends and family. If I remember correctly, my sister told me ( when HE was in the hospital when they first diagnosed him with cancer ) that it was time I ended the cycle of abuse and left the miserable son of a bitch. I laughed at her. Literally. My words to her were “ do you really see me as so weak and useless that I could only stay with a man because you think I am unable to leave?” She could not understand the pull he had over me. Not fear. But total adoration and admiration for a man who had gone out of his way to help an out of control psychotic who was bent on destroying herself and those around her. You are probably wondering what all this has to do with what you posted. Well , let me say that I disagree with what you said. That man OWNED me; mind body and soul; totally, and without complaint. That man could and DID beat me on a regular basis…and I am not talking about these ‘pre arranged scenes that everyone else thinks of’ I DID…figuratively and literally…give up all rights to be with him. Believe me; the reality of facts that make up my past are in no way fantasy or fiction.
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