Little did I know as a young woman to be aware of the signs.
He was so callous, he lacked empathy, he had no reciprocation of any kindness, he was aloof, he always blamed others for all his circumstances in life and as a child. I felt so sorry for him.
He was the most cold, detached individual I had ever met in my life.
I began to get so sick from mold exposure in the apartments we lived in. Then his mother and he decided to buy a fixer upper home that had severe water damage or sick building syndrome.
I was misdiagnosed for over 23 years for a disease I never had. I was treated for that disease and many others. The medication almost killed me.
He never took time to help me. Not once.
He attached me with a butcher knife in 2002. I was just walking into the kitchen for a drink of water. I had to use my voice to put the knife down. He did so and beat the kitchen cabinets, went to “his room” shut the door and did not come out to the next day.
He claims he does not remember that incident.
Always claiming memory loss, I don’t know, I don’t remember.
He would constantly blame me for all his troubles while I was helpless, disabled and bedridden.
His entire family, siblings, none of these people “feel anything.” His sister told me she did not feel anything when her children were born. I had never heard of anyone not feeling anything for a little baby after being born.
She called it “It”. I was so shocked, never ever met human beings like this.
My husband had stopped talking his dose of Zoloft with out telling anyone. He was so secretive.
When his therapist told me “I” needed to go to the bank, I thought dear God, how am I going to drive. It took me a week to get to the bank and it was too late, he had taken every penny. Claiming he did not know what he had done with the money.
All in all and 24 years of therapy, he is no better. His sister pays for “his” therapy from a family trust. Both him and his sister have a private checking account in another state.
I moved out with my child and he has never paid one dime to support us. His claim was he does not know how. He is 58 years old.
In my life I have never encountered people like this ever.
I am slowly recovering from being treated for a disease that I did not have and trying to recoup my life. It has been so difficult.
I was misdianosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Fibromylagia, Lyme Illness, Duck Hepatis, Mycopalsma Pneumina, you name it, I had it. I was completely bedridden. No one gave a damn about me.
His family could have cared less about me and my little boy.
They would stand and stare at me at the end of my bed while I was so bedridden.
Later when my parents died 2003, I moved into their home. Away from all the mold. No one ever cared how I paid any of the bills. They (his family) simply assumed he was paying for all the bills, he never told them the truth.
He never told his family it was me who paid the bills.
Within 6 months of my mom’s death, I called him and told him, to have all the bills at that moldy house transferred into his name. First he resisted then I told him too bad, then you will have no utilities.
He kept responding, “The bills are in your name! ” I said, “Not anymore.”
Sooner or later he had everything transferred into his name like it should have been rather than my first name with his last name.
I paid for my own funeral, I was so incredibly ill.
He sent my wheelchair back to the insurance company and said he would not pay for a wheelchair.
Once I left, I got a new wheelchair.
I felt safe. That was shattered when I had to ask him to drive me and my chair across town for my doctor’s visits.
He would ram me and my chair into the elevator or into walls. Always claiming he did not see this or that. He was so incredibly cruel.
I finally broke down and wrote many things down and handed it to my doctor at my last appointment in March of 2015. I was so afraid he would drive me to that appointment that day.
Fortunately my son drove me that day. My little 2 lb. 14 ounce love of my life had grown into a full-grown man, and was able to take me to my appointment that day.
If it had not been for the love of my child I could never have escaped that monster.