An ordinary life

We lived an ordinary life by military standards. We were married 11.75 years. There was nothing particularly special about our life. We had three kids. They played soccer. I was the team parent for several years. PTA parents. We weren't rich. We lived on base. My husband deployed regularly. We learned to be flexible. We just lived our life. From the outside looking in we were your typical all-American family.  

What you didn't know...nor did he, was my husband was fighting a silent battle within himself. He began showing signs of PTSD in 2005. I begged his command to have him evaluated. He denied the problem at work and spoke of suicide at home. He said after Recruiting Duty he would be better. It was just the stress and pressure of the duty. I trusted and had faith in him. 

It never got better. It got worse. Our life began to change. My husband was slowly fading away. He was replaced by an agry, hateful, resentful version of his former self. No one knew when he would explode and it would typically be directed at my sons. I walked on eggshells everyday trying to keep his temper down and the family out of trouble. I kept the house clean, made sure dinner was waiting when he arrived from work. I kept the children quiet so he could relax and took the blame for most anything the kids did that might enrage him. As much as I tried to keep him calm, if he didn't have a problem with something he would just make it up. He would create an issue by picking on the kids. He would intimidate them and then send them to their room for reacting to it. I knew it was wrong. At that point he had taken all of my power and I felt helpless to fight it. He told the kids he was boss, not me. Nothing I said mattered if he disagreed. The kids came to know this as fact. I was basically just there to cook and clean and look pretty on his arm for social functions. I don't think that was his original intention but by the end of his life that is what we became.

Our home was full of tension and I could barely stand to leave the house as a family because I could see the look in people's eyes when my husband was "disciplining" the kids in public. I kept my head down and my mouth closed. I will regret that forever.

Eight years later he committed suicide. My inlaws blamed me for his death. I say, you have no idea what our life looked like in the years leading up to his passing. This may be taken wrong but his death was sort of a relief...because what he was doing in the end of his life was not living. It was no life for any of us. We were in survival mode. No one laughed or hugged or sang or danced. We tip toed around him every minute of everyday. It wasn't until he became physically abusive with my children that I demanded he leave and seek help before he could interact with the kids again. The damage had already been done. Words and actions can speak louder than any word in existence.  Our family had already been changed.

Now, he's gone. It came as a shock to many people. We seemed solid, we seemed so "normal". I didn't share my husbands behavior with anyone. I was completely embarrassed and mortified that I, Miss Independent, feminist, I am woman hear me roar....was being emotionally abused. It's not the kind of thing you can bring up over drinks with your girlfriend. I could give advice to other women about never accepting the treatment from a man but I could not form the same boundaries at home. Hypocrisy. I am guilty. 

If I am to blame for anything it is staying far longer and subjecting my kids to the torture. I felt it was like dying of cancer. I wouldn't leave him then. I just knew eventually he would realize he had a problem and seek help. He didn't. I have to pick up the pieces of my forever changed family and figure out how to move on.  I am guilty of a lot of things but I didn't cause my husband's death. Directly or otherwise. I was the one person who smoothed out all the wrinkles , lied for him, made us look squeaky clean. Maybe I can admit to enabling him. Maybe I made it too easy to continue living that way...but until you have experienced our "average" life...I wouldn't pass judgment.