Control IS Abuse

Many of you don't realize your are in a controlling relationship. I know I never did. People kept saying towards the end of my marriage that I needed to stand up for myself. I didn't know why. I thought I had a perfect amount of say in our marriage since I took care of paying bills, cleaning, the kids, groceries, errands.. and so on and so on.. until one day I realized, I was doing EVERYTHING other than going to work. My ex husband never lifted a finger period other than going to his job. Both kids, he rarely fed them or changed a diaper. He NEVER got up in the middle of the night to care for them, he would throw a fit if I asked him to change diapers. He would say, I was the woman, that was my job. That was control.
I wasn't allowed to work. He didn't stop me from going out to find a job, it was just I had to find one with the same hours and days off as him or no go. That was about impossible. When I did get a job, after I would get a paycheck or two, he would throw fits about me going because he would have to sit with the kids..which never happened. They went to daycare or his family's house. So within a month I was forced to quit my job, even if I liked it. That was control.
His mom and sister were very rude with me. They would constantly criticize, well everything I did, even if I did the same as them..not good enough. If I went shopping for anything other than house hold stuff, I was nagged about being selfish and spending on myself, even though they did that daily. If I would go tan or to the salon I would get ridiculed for spending on myself although they did that and spent way more than me. When I went and got a tattoo, that erupted big time. They were so mad they immediately tattled to my ex and he got mad at me for spending. They would criticize my parenting and tell me I needed to be like his sister, who had no kids at that time.. but I was a bad mom for working and not staying with the kids and when I didn't work, I was bad for not earning an income. No matter what I was a terrible person and he would defend THEM. That was control.
I was told, not asked every time he decided to change jobs and we would move across the country, which was well over 25 times in 9 years. I had to pack everything ALONE. I had to unpack ALONE. That was control.
It got to where he stopped asking if he could buy drugs. He just brought them home even though I would beg him to quit so I could quit. I had no willpower.. He stopped asking if he could go to the bar with his friends if they got off early. He would just come home drunk, and with an 80$ plus bar tab on our bank account. It always ended in a bad fight because the lies would roll in about what kind of bar he went to would pour in. It was always some hole in the wall place that turned out being somewhere where some girl who liked him worked that was super hot and wore skimpy clothes or as far as I know, they "accidentally" went to the strip clubs. He said he didnt know..ya right. That was control.
There is so many ways to look at control. I could go on for miles about my struggle. But I just wanted to share some insight on the subject and maybe help you identify what or who is controlling you!

Abuse can be more than the word itself

A lot of you hear that someone has been abused and you automatically assume physical abuse. There are a great multitude of types pf abuse and I would like to delve into the subject a little deeper.
1) Physical Abuse is as we know where one person is harming another by sustaining damage to their physical body. My ex husband has choked me and hit me in the face. That was physical abuse.
2) Mental abuse is where someone is verbally assaulting you. I had been through a lot of verbal abuse in my day. As a teen I was called names such as fat, ugly, freak, gay, weirdo, and so on. As an adult my ex would get drunk and call me stupid, he called me that a lot. He would call me a whore, bitch, which he called me nearly everyday, I hated that, when he was real mad I was a fat, ugly, slut.
3) Bullies are something we all know is there. Some if us were affected by it, some were not, and some of us were the bully. I was bullied since elementary school. Not just by students but by teachers as well. My first grade teacher would give me detention damn near daily, she went through my backpack to see if I brought toys to school or my security blanket, which I carried everywhere back then. I would get detention for that. She said I would never amount to anything and I was incapable of learning. She was wrong. Students called me names as a kid, I never knew why. In high school I was picked on by the popular kids daily. The cheerleaders would set me up intentionally with random things just to embarrass me. The principal even picked on me. He would send me home for my clothes saying they were inappropriate, I dressed different but never inappropriate, even though the popular girls always had on shorts way way too short for school. They forced me to chose between the 2 things I loved doing. Music and basketball. I chose music and became an instant social outcast, but one of the popular boys got to do both.. hmmm. I was bullied by my ex into doing drugs, random sex acts I was not comfortable with, and babysitting for his friends teen girlfriends while they all went out. I don't do babysitting. I was ALWAYS bullied.
4)Self harm is an abuse most don't think about. It involves cutting, choking, drugs, alcohol...anything that casues pain. I did a lot of that. I started cutting myself in high school during my senior year. That was the hardest year for me. That year I gave up all hope in life and isolated myself from the world. I went through a lot. I was dumped by a boy who I was "in love" with, I ran away for him, I was sold for drugs, used, I returned home and to high school just to be kicked around even harder. I started cutting and scratching my arms and legs when I was angry, which was every day. I also began drinking a lot. I would sit in my room playing the guitar I stole, with a hidden bottle of brandy, would tear up my clothes and make new ones that were weird and dye my hair pink, pierce my face, just to rebel against everyone. I didn't care anymore. I smoked a lot, I stole cigarettes from my grandpa.. sorry grandpa.. and would steal anything and everything from friends and family. With the guilt, I would cut myself.

These are just some examples of abuse. There are many more fine details out there. If anyone has questions or would like to share some info or a story, please feel open to contact me. I would love to hear from you!

When You Never Thought He Would Hit You.

During those alcohol/drug driven days, I became more and more afraid of being around my husband. He would come home from work and before anything, walk over to the liquor cabinet and pour a rum and Coke or Jack and Coke. Then alternate between that and beer for the rest of the night. It became an everyday thing and on the weekends, from about noon til bed, it was a non stop drunk fest. I hated it so much. I got to where I would dread 5pm since that is when he got off work. My days at home, a stay at home mom, which I hated, I would spend the day cleaning, watching after my son, watching TV shows I liked that I didn't get to watch when he was home, and running errands. It was the same routine everyday. I was bored and depressed. I was always angry and looking for a way out. 
It was when we lived in North Carolina and he worked out of state was the only time I was happy. He came home on weekends, which I hated. I would have preferred him not to come home at all. I was free to go out with friends, have a job, and do what I wanted. But when he was home, it was nothing but drugs and getting drunk. It was the night of a Nascar race in Concord, NC was the first time he physically attacked me. We got drunk, went to the race, had a great time, walked home (Across the street from the track) and there was a party with young drunk college kids in our yard. He instantly started inviting them over to take shots and hang out. I was trying to get the kids in bed but there was no way that was happening with young drunk guys and girls flowing in and out. He LOVED hanging out with young college aged people, especially if there was young girls there. He knew I hated it. We were 10 years older than them. He still had the thought he was gonna get lucky with a young girl in our bed. After about an hour of this, I got mad and went off on him. That as you can imagine, did not go to well. He snapped on me, didn't say a word, pushed me down on the couch, jumped on me and started choking me, saying, "die bitch." The door was wide open, no one bothered to come in and help me. My kids were about 8 feet away, awake and scared. I couldn't breathe and was getting dizzy. He still had his hands tight around my neck, holding me down with all his weight. I kicked him hard in the chest, throwing him backwards onto the floor and off of me. I didn't even regain myself, I jumped up and grabbed the kids and ran to the neighbors house, who happened to be his sister. I hid out there that night trying to figure out things. That idiot didn't even bother to come after me, he just passed out. The next morning he realized what happened and I was an idiot and forgave him. I was very stupid before. I ALWAYS forgave him for all the abuse, and the mean words, all the women chasing he did. All the, inviting young girls over to hang out, hoping to get me drugged up for his own personal gain. I despised this man more than any person I have ever hated, but I always forgave him.
Why do we torture ourselves like this? For love? Because we are afraid? Because we don't think we could make it without the other? Because we fear what they would do to us if we left? All of those I felt. I took years for me to get the courage and strength to act. Years of agony, pain, depression, loathing, and anger. It makes future relationships hard. I have been with my new husband for almost 3 years. I still have a lot of trust issues. I get overly jealous when we see a young beautiful woman flaunting herself. I get highly angry with him over just the small things, because that is what my ex would do. My husband is not abusive, he doesn't use drugs and rarely drinks. He is a wonderful man and he has made my life so happy, I just can't help but push him for fear of being hurt. 

Don't Let Him Lead You: Putting up with Control

Trying to find your voice can be the most difficult thing in an abusive relationship. Now, when I say abusive, it doesn't always mean physical abuse. It can be physical, verbal, passive, control, bullying...and so on. I will say I put up with every one of these things through out my life. My first marriage was all the techniques above in many different ways. The physical abuse didn't start til near the end. It is what ended my marriage to this man. Through out our marriage we were both drug addicts. At first it was fun, but then he began making me watch porn for hours with him and forcing me to do things sexually I did not want to do. He begged and screwed with my head to convince me to allow other women in bed with us, which we never did. He would force me to do drugs even though I pleaded with him not to buy them, I was weak and the sight of them made me want them. He knew that so he would buy them, bring them around without my permission, then I would do them and the abuse began. He made me feel like I wasn't desirable unless we were drugged out. He would immediately break out the video camera, make me put on lingerie I didn't like to wear ( I used to be very overweight, I didn't enjoy being seen naked.) He would make me watch his favorite porn scenes and be like the girl on the video, and say the things they would say, do the things they did. I hated every moment of it, but I felt completely powerless and confused. I did them all, and felt horrible inside. I can't count how many times I would say no. No more drugs, please, no more...just to get ignored.
Once I got the drug use slightly under control, the alcoholism, on his part began. I was never an alcoholic. I don't enjoy being drunk, never have. He would get hammered nearly daily. If there was a shortage on a bottle of liquor he liked, I got yelled at and made to go to the store to buy more, even if we were on our last few dollars before payday. The kids were never put first. When we would plan family events, we wouldn't be allowed to go anywhere if there was no alcohol available. We didn't go out very much. The alcoholism was so bad my family was questioning things. He would go to my parents house and guzzle down their liquor til he was passing out on their couch. It was so embarrassing and I had to cover for him. He would get so smashed to where he was passing out nightly. If I would try to wake him, and I always did because I would be mad, I would get called a whore, bitch, stupid, fat, ugly, slut, and many combinations of the entire grouping of bad words I listed. Him being drunk almost always led to a fight. When we were at a restaurant, he would sit and run up a huge bill ordering drinks, then he would start flirting with the waitresses, embarrassing me again. He would make it a point to go to that same restaurant, sit in the bar section as long as the bar tender was a pretty girl in tight clothes so he could flirt with her. He told me he does it on purpose so I would get jealous and mad. After our divorce he told me he did it so I would lose weight and try to look as good as those girls. That was painful. I did lose a lot of weight, let my hair grow out, like he wanted, got a good job, just to piss him off, not for him, but to spite him. It made him very mad that I looked so good for another man, but not for him. I did not even want to be pretty for him. I didn't want him to want to touch me. I hated him with a passion for the things he did to me. The stuff I wrote above doesn't even describe a small part of it.
I will continue my story and hope to guide others find themselves, just like I did. Please feel free to reach out to me with your stories and questions. I can help you find freedom, love, and happiness!