Beating The Odds

BEATING THE ODDS

I met Joe when I was fifteen. We were married eight months after we met. I was 16 and he was 19. I could not drive and I dropped out of school right after the wedding. This was the beginning of eight years of struggling, sacrificing, and heartache. I became more and more dependant on my husband. He became the center of my life. I had very few friends and no outside interests. I am confused as to whether he made me become dependant on him or if I allowed it to happen. Maybe it was a little of both. I was young and vulnerable and needed to depend on someone. To keep me dependant on him he used mind games, intimidation, manipulation and guilt trips. He wouldn't allow me to have a checking account or credit cards. He had me believing I could not handle the money - that I wouldn't be able to balance the checkbook and that I would run up the charge cards. He told me we were always behind on our bills because I couldn't figure the budget correctly. So, he controlled the money and, still, the bills never got paid. He rarely let me go anywhere alone. He said there were too many weirdoes out there who could hurt me. Eventually, I either went places with him or I stayed home. I was afraid to even walk across the street to the park - so I never went. He did not make me submit by becoming violent with me. He was, however, violent with other people. He was from an abusive family. His violence often emerged when he was drinking or on drugs. I witnessed many of his fights and beatings. I saw him break the glass out of vehicles with a baseball bat. Even though he was not violent with me, maybe just seeing the violence was what made me submit. Various weapons were kept throughout the house and hidden behind furniture. Such as clubs, baseball bats, and guns. He slept with a sharpened machete next to his side of the bed. Most of these weapons were used in his acts of violence against other people. He had quite a long police record and it seemed like we were forever paying his fines and restitution. If he could hold a job for more than six months, he was doing well. We moved around a lot because, either we couldn't pay the rent and got kicked out, or Joe couldn't get along with the landlords, so we would move. He constantly thought other people were out to get him. He thought the whole world was against him. Each negative thing that happened to him, he blamed on someone else. He completely isolated me from people. We had moved away from my family and we didn't get along with his. He couldn't get along with our friends for very long periods of time. During an argument that was his fault, where he did something wrong, it was usually me that ended up apologizing. I felt as if I was the one who did something wrong. He
would accuse me of doing the things that he, himself, was guilty of. Like being jealous, over possessive, bad with money, insecure. I then felt as if I had to strive to prove him wrong, to gain his respect. It was emotionally draining. I felt like I was making one sacrifice after another. I forgave him each time for being arrested, never coming home, or squandering the rent money. For eight years we struggled and never had a thing to show for it. Meanwhile, I became more and more dependant on him. I still didn't drive. If I worked, it caused problems so I would quit. Any type of stress would cause his drinking to increase. He would drink and take drugs in binges. His behavior was very unpredictable. I felt as if things had to be just perfect for him, so he wouldn't get upset.
Our first daughter was born in 1984. The stress of the new baby caused another drinking binge, which eventually led to Joe being arrested. He had gotten into a fight and was charged with assault and destruction of property. Joe was between jobs most of the time. He refused to get unemployment or help from Social Services. We lived off of borrowed money or money from side jobs that he did. Our second daughter was born in 1986. I finally decided to go back to work, thinking it would help our financial situation. I found a job that paid very well and had excellent benefits. I felt maybe this was the beginning of some stability for us. But four months later the problems started again. Joe was again involved with drinking, drugs, and very unstable people. He was upset because I was working - so I ended up quitting my job, hoping to improve the situation. It didn't help - he would go for days at a time without coming home. When he was home he could care less

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