Broken Spirit's personal story
When my ex and I were courting, she seemed like a fantastic person. The entire 18 months was a growing journey, as I saw her being always interesting and funny. It appeared that we were connecting well and growing more in love. We discussed marriage and finally came to the wedding day and it was a good experience.
Four days into the honeymoon, she completely changed into a person I did not recognise. I found myself confused, alone, on one of the decks at our resort – we were supposed have dinner together. She was sulking in our hotel room. Gradually, as the weeks and months went by for us, the newly-weds, her attitude changed and she was more unhappy with her life. She would increasingly complain about the most trivial things, the floor tiles because it was a hassle for her to mop. The range-hood because it was home-made. The faucet because of one reason or another, always complaining about something.
The complaining became personal and by about 6 months she had used the f-bomb, she'd told me to f*%# off. It didn't stop, but just got worse, although I thought it was just an adjusting stage for her, since it was her first serious relationship. We managed to have a child and she seemed okay during that period, but she ripped a major tendon in her groin one week before giving birth, so I bathed her, carried her, nursed her until she was able to support herself again.
When she was mobile again, her complaints started against me personally again. It was ‘my fault’ that she ripped her tendon. It was ‘my fault’ that she was in pain. God was punishing her because of me. Why? I asked myself. My first-born was about 4 and a half months when she began to physically abuse them, yanking the bib off without releasing the tie first, shouting in their face and so on. While I was holding my young child at 5-6 months, she pushed the office chair into my shin in a fit of anger. The hostility continued and I began to resist her, confused that she was taking so long to adjust to being married.
Her family could hear us fighting from in their house, as we lived in the granny flat. We rented a house of our own and the fighting picked up again, the abuse against my first-born continued. My child was 26 months when my ex and I got into a physical fight because she was f-bombing my 2 year old and f-bombing me. Somehow, we managed to have a second child and very soon after, she began to shout at them while they were on the baby change table. The yelling from her just went on every day and I didn't know if I'd come home from work one day to find my children dead or alive.
I couldn't work a full day for a few years as I was concerned for the status of my family. She wanted me to go to work, come home, cook, wash the dishes, care for our kids, clean the house, while she had coffees with her sister and friends, then come home to watch TV until late, while reading junk mail – that was her routine. I was not able to do all those chores as my work was heavy and demanding, but I did a lot of house work, my favourite tasks were caring for my children, I loved being a dad and still do to this day.
But the fighting and shouting continued, the character attacks, the slander, the name-calling continued. Her family had joined in the criticism early into our marriage, before we had our kids because I wasn't of their ‘heritage’. By the time we had moved into a rented house, her family were isolating me from their family events, insisting that I stay home, but she was to go with our kids to their parties and gatherings. It was a battle against my ex, her two horrible sisters and her narcissistic mother. The men of their households were spineless and were subdued, but I was still a fighter.
Eventually, my spirit broke and I became so depressed, that once I'd get my kids fed, bathed and off to bed, I could only manage to go into the small study, lock the door and watch the computer screen, I felt completely useless. Eventually, she was blackmailed by her family to choose between them and me, she chose her family and packed up her things and left me, took my children and sued me for as much money as she could get. What a nightmare.
Years gone by, she hasn't changed much, except her anger has subsided, but she's still incredibly selfish, lazy, and money-hungry. My eldest child suffered greatly in their school grades, had yellow teeth because breakfast to them was a candy bar that my ex gave them in the car on the way to school. When I would go to their house, I could hear my eldest and their mum arguing and shouting at each other from outside the door, I had to wait about 10 minutes before knocking.
After a few years, I succeeded in gaining shared custody and my children's health improved, emotionally, physically and self-confidence has grown and their grades are much better. Their teeth have gradually become cleaner and they see a black and white difference between their mum and I. My ex still won't make them breakfast and my eldest is now 15 years of age. I clearly remember how many times she shouted in my face, “I hate being a wife and mother!”. I'm glad that part is over. I got my light out of the dark tunnel.