Denial - Not Just a River in Egypt

For me, one of the most difficult parts of the "healing journey" has been the lack of validation from certain people. Sure, mental health professionals have been very supportive -- especially those within the "domestic violence community." A few select friends and several of my family members that I've been brave (or stupid?) enough to share some of my experiences with have been somewhat sympathetic. But there have been several key people along the way whose purposeful denial of reality has undermined the very foundation of my "self."

There was the well-meaning "Christian" counselor who told me it was okay for my
husband to do whatever he wanted to me sexually whether I consented or not because:
"As a Godly wife, your body is not your own. You belong to your husband now, and must do whatever it takes to keep him happy." You don't want to know how much she charged per hour for her pearls of wisdom!

There was my mother-in-law who SAW my husband drag me by my hair, HEARD him
screaming obscenities at me in front of the children, and physically "tussled" with him
HERSELF. When I *ANONYMOUSLY* left a prayer request in church, she scolded me and said "we don't talk about things like that outside of the family." Her solution: "Maybe if you kept the house a little neater he wouldn't get so upset. Every man has needs. Maybe if you met his physical needs more often, he wouldn't get so angry. I know there's nothing calms my husband down more than sex. You should try it. My son might have a little bit of a trouble with drinking, but you know he loves you and the kids so much."

There were my parents who KNEW he'd been convicted of threatening me with a loaded shotgun, had seen him ON VIDEO trashing the place and screaming at me, saw my broken
windshield that he'd shattered with his fists, saw me limping sometimes, but STILL let me go back to him and just let him take me and my baby clear across the country without any objection. "You're a big girl now," they said, and washed their hands of the situation, "You made your bed, I guess you gotta lie in it. He says he's sorry. Everybody makes mistakes."

There was the cop who responded to our house and took the statement from our 11 year old son saying that my husband had purposely thrown some things and broken them. I confirmed that my son was telling the truth, but the officer said to me: "it's no crime for him to be drunk or throw things if he feels like it. It's his house and he can do whatever he wants to in it. He says it was an accident, and I've got no reason not to
believe him," and then he and my husband went out on the front porch and had a good laugh.

There was the judge who told me that my husband threatening me, spanking me with a
leather riding crop, forcing me to perform various sex acts, etc was not "real" domestic
violence/abuse because I had never reported it to the police, he had never broken any bones, and I didn't have any conclusive medical records or other "hard evidence." He said that the fact that I had stayed with my husband for so long obviously proved that "it couldn't have been all that bad."

I can forgive the deluded counselor for believing that spousal rape is biblical. I can forgive my mother-in-law for not wanting to believe that her precious "baby" is a monster. I can forgive my parents for not realizing how terrified I was of my abusive husband. I can forgive the cop for being a typical chauvinistic imbecile. I can forgive the judge for being clueless and insensitive. But there's one person who's continued denial STILL gets to me.

You see, my ex-husband has NEVER admitted to anything he said or did to me -- not even just between the two of us.

He's told his family I'm crazy & made it all up. He's told our children that "mommy's sick in her mind" and should be committed to a mental hospital. Even RIGHT AFTER raping me, he'd be upset with me for sitting too long in a tub of ice cold water (numbs the pain a little). "What the f*ck is wrong with YOU?" he'd scream at me. It didn't matter if he'd held me down, tied me up, or whatever, he always insisted that I had consented.

Honestly, the last few years that we were together, I didn't even bother saying 'no' because it didn't matter. Besides, I swear he got MORE turned on by forcing me, so it was less painful to just give in.

When we first got married he'd follow me from room to room all night long, crudely groping at me and fingering me. I'd even hide in the shower. One night I slept on the front porch in winter to avoid him -- anything was better than ... yuck.

Anyhow, he would ALWAYS deny any wrongdoing on his part. He'd say I was just being a "paranoid, frigid bitch," or that I "liked it that way," etc.

To this day he doesn't believe he's done a single thing wrong and he's playing the victim role for all it's worth. "Poor me. My wife left me for no reason at all. She' s crazy. She's ruining my life."

His denial didn't just involve the rape though ... For example, one night he punched huge holes in an upstairs wall. I finally went to bed once I thought it was safe. The next morning I saw that he had stayed up all night patching the wall. He even repainted it.

The only way you could tell what had happened was by looking on the opposite side the wall (it was cracked all the way through because he'd hit it so hard). I told his dad the next day what he'd done and my husband said I was making it up, that I was just trying to start a fight & looking for attention.

He'd set a cup of coffee on the table, walk past and knock it off & spill it, and then scream & curse at me IN THE OTHER ROOM for making a mess & make ME clean it up. As if I could magically have teleported myself into the kitchen to spill his coffee?

Some of the more severe things he just outright denies & says they're figments of my imagination. Like one of several times miscarried ... He claims I "tripped" on the newspapers on the landing ... and that it was MY FAULT that the newspapers that ONLY HE READ hadn't been put away. And when I had to have surgery twice in the same year for severely thrombosed internal hemorrhoids & related injuries from his anal rapes, he blamed it on "pushing too hard to poop" because I'd been pregnant and said it was the "pressure of the baby pushing down" that had caused my problems with "bad constipation."

He denies ever spanking or beating me -- even when I'd show him the leather riding crop the next morning he'd say, "I have no idea where that came from. I bet YOU bought it. Or maybe your GIRLFRIEND did!"

Truly, he made me doubt my own sanity. And I did have a nervous breakdown 4 years ago as a result of his twisted mind games and denial.

Somehow, I keep telling myself that if he'd just admit to ONE THING he did, I'd be OK. But he never will. I tell myself that maybe he blacked out from drinking too heavily & just doesn't remember -- because that's easier for me to deal with emotionally. I simply can't understand how he could hurt me over & over again and then claim he didn't.

Lundy Bancroft's books are pure gold. I only wish I'd read them years ago -- could have saved myself a lot of heartache. I can't tell you how much time & energy I wasted trying to get him to own up to what he was doing to me -- when He simply DID NOT CARE.

Sometimes I wonder if he's just a psychopath that's incapable of empathy. I'm still not to the place where I'm strong enough to 'not care' whether or not my experience is validated. It just hurts so much to know that he got away with it for all those years without any consequences.

He always had an explanation for everything. Bruises on my hips were from me being clumsy and bumping into furniture. Pictures of bruises weren't actually pictures of me, he'd say. And if they were me, he'd accuse me of having had someone digitally alter the pictures. If a doctor would send me an order written on a prescription blank saying not to have sex because my pregnancy was at risk, he'd tear it up and take me anyhow.

Then when I'd miscarry, he'd say it was the doctor's fault, that he or she was incompetent, and make me change to a different doctor.

Sometimes I still doubt my own perception. I know I shouldn't, but there's a long way between the brain and the heart ... and when you're told you're stupid & crazy for so many years, after awhile you start to believe it. I figure since it took him so many years to essentially "brainwash" me, I can't expect to undo the damage overnight.

Still, I do get very frustrated. I hate what he's done to me and I hate that he can't just own up to it. Part of me feels like I'll never be "right" until he admits what he's done to me, but I'm not holding my breath that he'll ever face the truth.