Pleasing the Unpleasable :Part 1

In the beginning, things seemed to be going so great, like everything was falling into place, as if I was right where I'm supposed to be. Back then, my spouse couldn't keep his hands off of me. Constantly, he was embracing every piece of me that he could hold. He brought something out of me I haven't seen in a long time, simple happiness. He gave me a sense of security and for the first time, I trusted his every intentions without a doubt. Every moment our eyes would consensually meet, I had the sense of overwhelming love for him. I found myself making it a priority to make him happy and to never allow him to feel like he was anything other than perfect. For a short time, he made me feel the same. Then things started to change as we became more comfortable with each other. I started to notice very quickly that those feelings he had for me was nothing more then a complete first impression. I found myself constantly begging for his attention. Just one more time, I wanted so deeply for him to appreciate me again. At that point, I don't think I cared if it was just a front, and I held on to hope. Hope that he would just fall out of whatever was bringing on this hatred he had towards me. I hoped that he would one day stop looking at me with disgust and just smile at me. I knew that things just weren't so consensual. I soon witnessed the other side of him pouring out as if he was running from his own happiness. It felt as if I had been mislead the whole time, tricked into falling for the only person he turned out not to be. How could I be so blind? After only a year of our romancing, things seemed to dwindle into something not so appealing. His look into my eyes, if I got one, was now empty. There was only a sense of overwhelming guilt of ruining his life, as if he was disgusted having ever met me.  His jokingly way of putting me down became more frequent and hurtful. After a few years of being with him, I felt like I'm holding pieces of me together with one hand, while the other is acting as a shield against his words. When all the while, I am wanting so badly to wrap my arms around him. My heart was being picked at, little by little. I was finding myself constantly being judged for every move that I had made, every word that I spoke and every decision I made. I was so exhausted constantly trying to defend myself while at the same time, gaining countless hours of disappointment trying to please the unpleasable. Researching on the web of how to make our family blend had become my number one hobby back then. Praying became more frequent, but reaching out didn't feel like an option.  Feeling like a complete stranger in my so called "home", was not where I envisioned my life. Nor was having that sigh of sadness on my face every time I had to return to it. After having spent numerous occasions trying to apprehend anything that went the wrong direction, I started to question if this really is, right where I am supposed to be. I was continuously giving him chances to do better, sometimes even ignoring the hate towards me. I was always finding myself making excuses for his actions. I had always thought about leaving, but then, where would I go. He made me think that I was a nobody, that I was a burden to those around me. I felt as if the only reason I had anything, was because of him. He made me rethink every piece of me until I forgot who I really was. As I became more immune to the verbal abuse, I somehow just let it become a part of my normal every day life. I learned to accept that this was how life is supposed to be and as sure as I was, I was going to stick it out and try to pick up every small piece that was ripped away from me and thrown down and pray that tomorrow was going to be better...I just knew it would. A few years into our relationship, we introduced a beautiful baby girl. She was perfect, just as I prayed for. While being numb to my 'New Normal', things seemed to be doing fine. Then, as time would pass, the verbal abuse got worse and eventually turned physical. Through all the bruises and should have been stitches, I still somehow stayed. He had a way of sympathetically apologizing. He made me feel like he had no choice but to hurt me in those ways and as crazy as it seems, I believed him. As time went on, he had the opportunity to buy a home, which was much bigger then the two bedroom we all squeezed into. I didn't want to go with him and I felt like it was God's grace getting him away from me. It took a lot of convincing but I agreed to finally move in with him once again. I thought to myself, maybe this is all we needed, a little more room to grow. Boy, was I wrong! The minute I moved in and got settled down, things turned more ugly and the pain I went through only got worse. I wasn't allowed to hang pictures up or have my stuff in the yard because "it wasn't my house". All those promises he made just turned to ashes and once again, I felt so fooled. My heart, as usual, had been ripped right out of my body and there he was, laughing, as if none of that mattered.  I was right back to where it all started. How could I do this to myself? Again? I felt so guilty by allowing him to reconstruct me once again. It was almost like all those little pieces that I picked up and hid away, he found, and then hung them where he wanted them, like a trophy of some sort. He started using our daughter to make himself look like a decent human to those who didn't quite know us. I would have him take her to her birthday parties so that she, at least, wouldn't be late, as I was rushing to get things ready, he would tell everyone "her own mother is late to her daughters birthday".  Or  while I was busy cooking and our daughter was just wanting to be held, he would pick her up and say "I'm sorry baby, mommy doesn't wanna be a mommy right now". As the frustration grew, my feelings towards him became more and more slim. I started noticing all the hurtful things he would tell our daughter about me, right in front of me and how much it could effect her little mind. But, sometimes, it would make me feel like such a horrible mom at the same time. As I was feeling down on myself and things were only getting worse, I had a wake up call. This was it, this is the day I plan my get-away. I am going to be free no matter the cost. He finally pushed me to the edge when his abusive hands touched my child. My boy was 16 at the time, but still my baby at heart. That is when I knew, for real, I needed to break away form this abusive cycle. I seen how the verbal abuse was taking a toll on him and how he so desperately wanted it to stop.  Even if it meant I had nowhere else to go, I started making my plans. Having worked with the courts and families in similar situations,  I knew about the Family Court system in Stone County and I knew my odds of gaining full custody of my daughter were slim to none (even an abusive spouse gains 50/50 custody). So, I prepared my children and myself for a life altering event. As I knew, I would be having to share custody of our baby girl. In knowing this, it was scary to think that there would be some days and even nights that I couldn't be there for her. In preparing myself, my daughter, and her father, I would start leaving her with her dad a little more each time. I wanted to make sure she was safe and that he could handle situations without me being there. A few months later, I did it, I finally told him that I was moving out and that I had a place of my own. Sure, it scared me to no end not knowing what his reaction would be. Little did I know, this would turn my world, again, upside down. I was served custody papers stating that he wanted full custody, me having some visitation, and pay him $300 a month for child support. This came as a shock considering I was the one there for my daughter since day one. Yes, I say shock, because as ruthless as he could be, I never imagined him ever wanting her full time. He knew, the only way to really hurt me, was through my daughter.  As time passed, and so much senseless spending on attorney fees, and etc., things just turned worse. We eventually were recommended to take high-conflict custody counseling. As I thought to myself, this is my last hope, I was actually excited about being able to tell my story and I just knew that she would see straight through him. Once again, I was wrong. All the hope I had left was slowly leaving my body and what little was left of my pride, was all I could hold on to. While in the counseling sessions, his evil side came to its surface. As such lies poured out of his mouth, I knew then, that his hate for me was more then I could ever imagine. And boy, was it scary! He was so believable to those who didn't know him. He was great at convincing strangers of what an upstanding father he was and how the mother of his child just took off and left. How the woman he once loved was abusive and neglectful. How could this person, who says they once loved me, become my worst enemy? What am I dealing with here?  What if his plan doesn't work? How far will he go to WIN? I would ask myself these things in fear of what was next to come. I started alienating myself from friends and even family. I was angry but was running out of energy to respond to his manipulation. I still pray for the strength not knowing how much more I can mentally and physically accommodate all the stress.  And to this day, I find myself watching every move I make. I pray that one day he will just stop and do what is in our daughter's best interest. Even though we have a trial date coming soon, I have learned that this too, is going to be another new normal for me and as long as I believe in myself, I can make it through this. I will survive, it may be a stressful struggle, but I will never give up.