Couples, Barbara's Story, By Callen Damornen

I just love weddings. They are always so full of hope and promises. The bride is beaming in anticipation of an exciting life with her Prince Charming by her side. The groom is excitedly bored wanting the formaility to be over so he can get to the party and the honeymoon. A potential couple expecting the rest of their lives to be a great experience without thinking ahead of that cloud which should be lifting in a few weeks.

That fog covers the eyes of the couple who can't resist the hypnotic spell which tells them that they are unique and unlike every other couple who gets married. It's the other couples who have problems. Other couples get bored with each other. Other couples have fights. Not the couple contemplating taking the vow to be with each other until death. That couple thinks of that part of the marriage vow as a secure life, not a prison sentence similar to a killer who gets committed for life.

Perhaps this is the wrong time for me to be cynical about the institution of marriage, but I fear for my little sister. Here I am when only 12 years ago I was in the same boat as Betsy. When I got married to James I also had stars in my eyes. I wasn't hearing any of the comments, barbs, or pot shots of marriage or even about my boyfriend. I wrote them all off as if they didn't know what they were talking about.

Back then, as far as I was concerned, James was the only man who could ever be good enough for me and thought it would be a shame to let him disappear from my life. I wanted to get that commitment from him no matter how much he hesitated in giving me that part of his life which meant he would have to grow up. So I blame myself for the mess I am in.

Don't get me wrong. James is not an evil monster and I am not a saint. As a person, I love him and admire him. I just sometimes wish we weren't married. I have vivid fantasies of being rich enough to have separate houses close to each other. When I got married, I never wanted my husband to be my child. At least with my two children I know at age 18 they can't wait to leave and start their own lives. With James, I am stuck with him until one of us dies. The thought can be depressing sometimes.

When Betsy met Gerome, all of our family and some of her friends were surprised. We just could not see how he could be a good catch. He was a nice enough guy, but seemed a bit too nice. He seemed to have so many weird quirks it seemed as if he would be the perfect, permanent, little brother. There just seemed to be no man in him, he was all little boy who wanted to play house. How could I tell Betsy? It wasn't any of my business, besides, I didn't really know him too well. Perhaps there was another side to him that he has yet to show anyone.

I remember when I first started going with James. He was quite different from the other guys I used to hang around. James was my second serious boyfriend. When I met him, I had just decided to permanently end any hopes of Peter and I being a long term couple. I had my problems and issues and he just couldn't be there for me. He had a promising life ahead of him and the last thing I wanted to do was hold him back and to resent me for life. Sure, it was mean-spiritied of me to not tell him outright that there would never be hope for us. He just one day found out I was engaged to someone else after not speaking to me for months. He assumed I just wanted space which is why I haven't contacted him and he was busy living his life. He had no idea that in the breather time I had not only met someone else, but was planning to live the rest of my life with him.

My family liked James okay, but he was still kind of a punk. He came from a dysfunctional family which was very controlling. James also has a temper problem which would result in him outdoing a 2 year old tantrum when things don't go his way. I would try to ignore the embarassment I felt and the condemnation of my family over his behavior. I figured he would eventually grow out of it when he felt more secure. I knew he wasn't perfect when I asked him to marry me. I was perfectly fine with it. I was okay with him when he refused to sit down with me to talk about our future. I was okay with his decision not to have kids until we were well off. Then two years passed and I was starting to grow impatient.

Modern thought is a couple should live together before getting married so you know exactly what to expect. We did just that. I knew how he was. I knew how his family was. I still wanted to marry him. I practically had to force him down the aisle because I wasn't about to be his concubine for much longer. I cooked for him. I cleaned up after him. I did errands for him. I helped pay bills. In every sense, but the piece of paper, I was already married to him. It was only under threat that if he didn't get that so-called "silly piece of paper" that I would move out and find someone else who wanted to marry me.

James did his part. He married me. We had a fun honeymoon. We looked forward to a great life together. Then the nightmare began two weeks later. A series of one bad thing after another happened with his car, the boss getting on his case for mistakes he made, then the final nail in the coffin - he missed a concert. That sunk him into one of the worst tantrums I have ever seen. He would not listen to reason then went on a drunken stupor for about 2 weeks. During this stage, he showed up at work completely bombed out of his mind and threatened people at work before passing out in the bathroom when I was called to come and get him.

I did what I could to encourage him to apologize in hopes that he would get his job back. He did, but got fired anyway. That was the start of a rocky year of marriage. Broke and on welfare while I was working minimum wage jobs and he was being unreasonably picky about the jobs available. He wanted a job that would pay him more than his skills could ever get him in a bad economic time and refused to work for less than he thought he deserved. There was no reasoning with him. I loved him and put up with it.

Besides, I could see James was in so much pain that I couldn't abandon him. I gave James a chance to redeem himself in my eyes and he did. He found a job and we moved to a new place. Money was tight, but we managed.

The last thing anyone wants to hear when they are struggling financially is there is a baby on the way. Clash of the egos being what they are, James and I fought. He was demanding I abort the baby. I refused. He was threatening to kill himself in front of me with a gun. I fought with him to get the gun out of his hand. I miscarried days later. I don't know why I didn't leave him then. I had the perfect out. I looked at him and saw a person who was scared and vulnerable. I worried what he would do if I left him. I sort of blamed myself for him being so miserable. I couldn't just walk out on him... Or could I?

He had a fight with his father and threatened to kill him. I had enough of the violence, the tantrums, and his bad behavior. I left and didn't let him know where I went. James went crazy calling all my friends to find out where I was hiding, but the few who knew where I went would never tell. Word passed on to me how he was so upset and missed me and needed me. I finally broke down and called him. He apologized and said he would change. He said he could never live without me. Like a sucker, I fell for it and came back. James was good for awhile, but old habits just would not go away.

Yes, to this day, James still has his tantrums. It's a fact of life I have had to just accept. It is tiring and hard to deal with, but I feel so trapped sometimes, escpecially when his tantrums are usually a result of what he did himself. He misplaces things all the time and finds it is easier to blame everyone else for his inability to keep track of his stuff. True, sometimes the kids or I would move his stuff in order to look for something else. James has this habit of leaving his stuff everywhere, even placing them on top of other things. He also has short term memory. He will swear he put an item in one location when it will be in a totally different location, but that doesn't stop him from going into a rage mode.

I may not be the most organized person in the world. I am actually far from it. I resent the hell out of him to expect me to be his memory. I work 2 jobs from inside our home along with raising our 2 children. Just because I am in the house, he thinks I am physically able to not only keep the house clean and organized, but can also work my jobs. I have yet to figure out a way to do more than one thing at a time. He still does not get that concept. He treats my jobs like a mere hobby instead of taking them seriously. He doesn't mind the fact that I am making money, sometimes more than he does, but when my job interferes with his ability to find stuff, or to be his memory, or to do his errands, or when he wants to use the computer which is the prime vehicle for me to work...then my job has to take the back burner to him and I need to put my life on hold for his needs or I have to listen to him huff and puff and have a silent, hostile tantrum.

Just because he works 2 jobs outside the home, he acts as if he has a legitimate excuse not to help out around the house when he is actually here. On rare occasions, he will clean house, but that is usually the point where he can't tolerate looking at the mess any longer and will insist everyone stops what they are doing and clean up - because HE wants it done now! On the other hand, if I do clean house while he happens to be home, he seldom will join in and help out. He does not understand the fact that I am doing far more work in a day than he does over the course of a few days. By the time he wakes up I have usually already completed several tasks and then have to get his clothes laid out and make sure he has everything ready for work. Is it really MY problem that he doesn't want to be bothered with waking up until a half hour before he has to leave? No one lays out my clothes for me when I have to get my kids ready for the day at six in the morning. No one fixes my breakfast. No one wakes me up. More than anything this makes me feel more like his mother than his wife.

He also acts as if the world revolves around him and his own problems. When everyone else seems less than sympathetic about it, he goes into a rage. If dealing with businesses, forget about the other customers who may have been waiting longer - you must deal with him now! If a policy in the business says they can't do things his way, they had better bend, but God forbid if a customer comes to him asking him to bend the rules! Even at home, if he has a problem, everyone MUST stop what they are doing and take care of him.

He has also taught me to be emotionless. If I get angry or frustrated or sad, he yells at me to shut up. He doesn't want to hear me or the kids whine as he puts it. We have no other choice but to listen to his tantrums and whining, but no one else is allowed to have these feelings. I vent my frustrations in other ways which would be considered dangerous to my health.

What really bothers me more than anything is the fact that I am not allowed to have an opinion and voice it. He can go off on me anytime he wants and scream at me in the most degrading and humiliating way possible, but I cannot even defend myself or tell him anything. If I can see what he is doing is wrong, I can't point it out. I have to sit back and listen to him screeching at me. Then he expects me to clean up his mistakes he brought on himself while I silently accept it. I hate him for that. I am not the perfect, submissive wife who will be okay with whatever he does. I can't take it much longer. I hate being married to a child.

I hope for Betsy's sake that Gerome will be good for her. I hope when the fog lifts and it finally dawns on her what she got into that she doesn't realize she is in a nightmare. I will just sit back and watch the ceremony in tears.

Weddings make me cry. They have so much potential like mine did. I cry tears of happiness in hopes that this couple is doing the right thing. I cry tears of anger realizing how I am stuck in a place I hate. I cry tears of joy in realizing that in spite of all the problems and pain James gives me, I do love him more than anyone else in the world. James can be the most intelligent, loving, funny person you will ever meet. He would go out of his way to help anyone in need. He is so sweet and vulnerable. He needs me. I just hope Betsy isn't just settling for Gerome. I hope she will not look back 12 years from now and rationalize her decision to stay in a bad marriage.