Christmas pain

I don’t like Christmas.

It is one of the saddest times of the year for me.

I don’t like Christmas.

It’s always a reminder that my husband left us high and dry for “a better life” in the US. After seven years of marriage and what I thought was happiness, mutual trust and understanding, he decided he didn’t want me or a family, but a rich woman who could give him whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

He left me here saddled with his bills and to raise our two children on my own. When we met I had a job but he felt that a woman’s place was at home and forced, yes forced, me to leave my job.

He did some horrible things to me to ensure I lost my job so I would be dependent on him.

No one believed he did that ’cause he’s Mr. Nice Guy, that person who’s always there for everyone, a strong man — but he was mean.

He didn’t hit me but used his tongue as a knife to cut me down.

Nothing I did was ever good enough. My food was bland, my choice in household items was the worst and I wasn’t a good host.

Some of you reading this might wonder why I didn’t leave. I tried and he told my friends and family I was psychotic, but it was his fault as he was cheating on me and I found out.

They believed him and my father ordered me to go back and make amends as he was a great man and should be forgiven.

It was just more misery and he did what he wanted. He raped me, changed the locks on all the doors so if I left I had to wait outside until he returned home. He wouldn’t let me go to the supermarket or to visit my family. The kids “don’t need to go to day care because that’s what you’re there for”.

My friends and family “understood” cause he told them I was losing my mind, not knowing he was the psycho.

When the kids were older, around five and three, he told them constantly I didn’t love them, which was simply not true. It was his way of making sure I didn’t have any friends. He brought another woman to live with us, she was their care taker and he encouraged them to call her mummy.

He was sleeping with her and I couldn’t do anything about it. She later found out I didn’t have a mental history and that he was mean and she left him, which only meant more trouble for me.

To make my story short, this abusive madman found another woman and plotted to get his hands on her money. He didn’t know she had lawyers who watched out for people like him.

Four days before Christmas he came home and declared he had divorced me and had given me sole custody of our kids and the house but he knocked over the decorated tree, pulled the curtains from the windows, threw the ham and turkey outside in the yard, and crushed the kids by telling them Santa Clause wasn’t real.

He threw the keys at me and told me I was free to go, that I was a blasted idiot and would never amount to anything.

I am university educated, came from a loving family and I speak several languages.

Christmas was the one season I looked forward to as it brought out the best in people and families came together. It also heralded that Jesus was alive.

At times I prayed He would rescue me but then I gave up hope as the man I married became more abusive.

My spirit was broken though and it took a while before I could heal those wounds but my experience left me with a disdain for Christmas and a healthy distrust of men.

My family apologised for not seeing the abuse and I forgave them. I sold the house as much as I loved it (I was the one who chose it) and bought another after I settled some of the bills he left that were in my name.

I’m taking life step by step, day by day and one day I will get back to where I used to be.

I don’t like Christmas because it always takes me back to that time when I allowed a madman to control my life instead of fighting back.

I know I should be happy he left and I got my freedom but it reminds me of the torture I went through at the hands of someone I loved.

Maybe one day I will love again.

— Blue Christmas

Since Yuh Asked, BC, let me begin by saying that you have been through a lot and though you might not recognise it fully, had it not been for the God of Christmas you would not have made it. And look at it another way: it might have been a painful way to learn, but you must certainly be a stronger person today.

Trust God and keep faith. You will probably never forget those horrible days, but you will learn to put them in the back of your mind and smile at the beauty that life is today.

Trust God! And believe in the joy of Christmas again!

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