Social Anxiety

  There’s some hurts that never go away. They lessen over time, you stop thinking about them everyday, but they’re still there with you. When I was 19 I started seeing a man that had been a friend of my family since before I was even born. He was 24 years old than me, but because he’d alway been around off and on and my family seemed to like him I thought he was a good guy. We’d only been seeing each other a month or 2 when I got pregnant. He let me move in with him and he said he’d take care of everything. He said he would support the baby and me and my other daughter. I thought it would be great, I found someone to take care of us, I didn’t have to worry about making it on my own with a child. I did love him, not in the I’m crazy about you want to spend my life wih you kind of way. But in the I know I’m safe with you and you’ll always take care of me kind of way.  At the time I thought it was the I’m crazy about you kind of love and I truely believed that I would spend my life with him. We’d only been together a few months, I was only 20, and I didn’t know much. As time passed I found that we really didn’t have anything in common. I never felt comfortable talking to him. I don’t think he felt comfortable talking to me either, because conversations between us were few and far between. Time went on, we had another baby.The post partum depression I had was horrible. I think my husband was in denial over it. Our relaionship became very strained. I tried to talk to him about it. I told him I wasn’t happy. His response was always the same “I’m happy so you need to get over it”. I told him I needed to feel like I was more than just his maid and his whore, but he was happy with the way things were. I don’t know that he ever really loved me. I think what he loved was the life he had. The Leave it to Beaver life that we protrayed to the people on the outside looking in. People looked at us and thought we had a perfect little life and family together, so why wasn’t I happy with it? When I moved in with him I had no car, no license, no money, nothing. I was totally dependant on him for everything. My anxiety started getting worse. It was so bad that the only time I left the house was if I was with him. I wouldn’t, couldn’t even go outside to play with my daughter. After about a year we moved, into a house that he choose, I had no say in it at all. The house he chose was almost next door to my dad and grandma’s houses. I thought it was pretty nice, now I could go over there and visit with them. I don’t think my husband liked me spending so much time over there because he started telling me that my family was talking about me. That they had said some pretty negative things about me. At the time I believed him. He was my husband, he loved me, why would he lie about that. Now that I’m older and out of the situation I think he told me those things to alienate me from my family, to keep me away from them, keep me at home where I belonged. There was quite a few things like that that he used. He knew I had always felt unwanted by my father and he would make comments about that too.This man, who claimed to love me so much  never showed it. Maybe he thought he did and I just didn’t see it. He was a great provider. He made good money, he kept us fed, he kept a roof over our head, kept us warm. He would have bought me anything I asked for, and he did, except for one thing, one thing that I thought if he really did love he would have bought me. An engagement ring. He never bought me a ring, I don’t know why. And the way he asked me to marry him said anything but I love you. His words were “We need to get married so you can be on my insurance. You can use the ring your mom gave you.” I should have known things weren’t going to work after that. Time goes on. We were married for 5 years, we had to beautiful children together. He was happy with his Leave it to Beaver looking life. I was unhappy with no hope for a change in site. I went out one night with my sister in law. We went to a bar, had a coupld drinks, danced and flirted with a few guys. It was a lot of fun. It felt good to feel wanted again. It’d been so long since I felt like I was wanted. So many bad things happened after that. Cheating. Rape. Physical abuse. Verbal abuse. I thought I’d be able to write about them but I can’t. You think all the hurt is gone, but it’s still there, and it doesn’t take much to relive it. I filed for divorce. Because of his abusive, controlling ways it took me 3 or 4 years to actually get out of there. That was what I had intended on writing about, but I got side tracked. Stuck on how I messed up so bad in the begining. If I hadn’t had any anxiety would have done the same thing?

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