Sometimes I wonder if our marriage is going to work. I have somehow managed to hold on to who I am despite all of the toxicity. Darkness surrounded me. A darkness my husband attributes more to my mental health than to the environment I was exposed to. That is devastating. I walked in who I was: optimistic, compassionate, and full of life. I woke up one day surrounded by blackness. I was hurt, scared, and self-defeating. He was right. There were mental health issues. Issues from trying to be too strong for too long. Issues from fighting to defend my identity while under attack from numerous sides. I allowed him and his family to beat me down, to dull my sparkle and destroy my wings. I lay on the floor alone, crying, as they all sneered above me feeling validated. This was real to me. I placed myself in an environment that would destroy me, not empower me. I hit the lowest point of my entire life. I now spend every day protecting myself from these attacks.
While I took due care increasing the thickness of the glass on my side of the tank, the sharks are still visible on the other side and I know they can strike at any time. Sure the caretaker can keep treating my wounds, but the wound is still there and eventually, it becomes a scar. Why doesn’t he understand that treating the wound does not eliminate it? I am scared to death of being in that shark tank, feeling wound after wound, and for what? For my husband’s happiness? What about my happiness? Losing who I am to please someone else seems unhealthy – and is actually unhealthy for me. I feel as though I spend more time in this marriage protecting myself than flourishing. I protect myself from his family and alcohol on top of protecting myself from his snarky comments because of the fact that I protect myself. I fear the impact he and his family will have on me long-term. I was so used to being surrounded by positive energy before this relationship that the constant negative energy is very taxing. I cannot and will not continue to sacrifice my happiness and well-being. Life is too short.
Photo: Flickr – Angelo Amboldi