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I hate being married.

There, I said it.

I hate every little thing about it. I literally cringe when I hear about someone getting married. I literally cringe at their ideals, their hopes, their dreams for their marriage. I consider this a character flaw. I tell myself to step back and just be happy for someone. Don’t dampen their happiness with my own bitterness – not every marriage is going to be like mine. I understand that, I really do. I am just so terrified that one day these people with all their wonderful hopes, dreams, wants, needs will wake up and be me.

I hate being married. I hate feeling ignored, irrelevant, unimportant, worthless, like so little of me matters.

I wrote the above a couple of months ago and re-reading my draft now makes me realize how far I have come within myself these last few months. I hit rock bottom. I didn’t think I would be able to pull myself back out of it. I considered committing myself to the psych ward and knew I couldn’t because of my children. When I finally realized (and accepted) how completely overwhelmed I was with life, I decided that it was time to work on me.

I cannot change my situation. Don’t get me wrong – I know divorce is an option and one that I soon hope to explore – but it won’t change the past. It won’t change the way I feel about myself. It won’t change the position I have found myself in and it won’t change him. It won’t change the fact that for almost 14 years of marriage I allowed him to make me feel that way about myself. It won’t change the fact that I had based my self worth on what someone else thought of me because I didn’t know any better. I had allowed myself to be put in that position.

When I finally hit rock bottom, when I finally knew the answer for the people that used to ask how much i would take, when I finally decided that enough was enough, I decided that working on me was the only way I would be strong enough to leave.

Emotional abuse is a tough topic to discuss. Part of me wonders if I am imagining it, that maybe I am over sensitive, but part of me knows I am not. Emotional abuse doesn’t leave physical scars. It leaves your entire soul empty, like there is nothing left inside, like you are just hollow. And, after almost 14 years of marriage, I decided to do something about it.

I started counseling – a fact that I have to keep hidden because he is against anyone possibly telling me I am right. He doesn’t want anyone telling me that I don’t expect too much, that a divorce is a good thing for me, that maybe I will find out I am not the crazy one. I also started antidepressants. Generally, I am against medication. I have never been one to take something unless it is absolutely necessary, but I can’t keep crying every single day. I am proud of myself that I swallowed the pride, the shame, the “holy shit, this girl is crazy” in order to let someone else help me help myself. It seems so simple, and yet, it is so huge for me. It gives me hope.

Hope – I don’t think I remember the last time I had hope that the person I used to be still existed. My counselor told me the other day that that person – I am still her.  She may be pushed aside because of emotions or circumstance but I AM STILL HER and I can get her back. I think those words sealed the deal for me that I was doing the right thing. I think maybe I just needed someone else to believe that I wasn’t a lost cause.

I hope that I am strong enough to leave. I know it will be hard and I am sure that my life will be a living hell for leaving but then, it is a living hell now. I dread going home. There are days where I sit in my car for a few minutes (as long as I can before my 3 year old realizes Mommy is home!) and convince myself that I have to go in. I have to suck it up, put on a brave face, and be prepared to deal with whatever he decides to throw at me today. How can leaving be any worse than that?

Maybe I really am the crazy one. As I type these words, I wonder if it’s crazy to have to make yourself strong enough to leave. I wonder if it’s crazy to work on yourself so you can leave your husband. All I know is that right now, at this moment, I am reclaiming myself, the woman I used to be. I am reclaiming that I am an individual outside of my marriage. Most of all, I am reclaiming the fact that I have worth.

I hope I succeed.