After an admittedly brief courtship followed by a month apart, I moved her with me to San Diego, and three months later, we were married.
Almost immediately, I noticed her desire to change me. I chalked this up to the "sacrifices and compromises" I had heard that marriage entails, and so I went with it. I got all new clothes, and, at her behest, took time away from my hobbies (drawing, writing, video games, and reading) to give her more attention.
Now comes the first major problem, pornography. I have always liked the aesthetic appeal of the feminine form, admittedly, but the few relationships I'd had before my marriage had fashioned me into a more reluctant pursuer than most, and I would while away errant sexual tension with pictures of naked women. I never really liked watching other people have sex, though.
My wife found a folder on my computer with the aforementioned material, which I hadn't hidden, and proceeded to lay into me about emotional infidelity. The pictures were deleted, and I had unwittingly given her her first trump card with which to diffuse any future protests I could lodge, but that comes later.
Next, came the issue of my female friend. I had known this woman for two years before my wife had even expressed interest in me. Pair that with the fact that I wasn't really attracted to her sexually, and the fact that she was dating one of my other friends, and you have a fairly platonic relationship, at least as far as I knew.
In the Navy, we are required to "stand duty" which comprised of being onboard for twenty-four hours every eight days to cover any of the various security watches we are required to stand. Since my friend was on duty during the same days, we hung out together. Needless to say, my wife had a problem with that, and so I stopped. A little while afterward, My friend gave me a ride home because my wife was an hour and a half late picking me up, and I couldn't reach her on her cell phone. Once my wife finally met up with me back at home, I explained how we missed each other, and she went ballistic. She slapped me, and claimed that I was cheating with my friend. After the all-night argument, I had given her yet another trump, and the next day I made up some ridiculous reason, and ended my friendship. Later, my wife acknowledged that her most of her previous relationships had ended because of her partners infidelity, but that didn't keep her from using it as a trump.
I had mentioned before that writing was a hobby of mine. During another perusal of the home computer, she came across some old writings (once again predating even the earliest semblance of our marriage) that were about me, and a fantasy woman. Long story short, another trump card, and the deletion of all of my earlier writing for good measure.
Now, to anyone reading this, it would seem that my wife was domineering, pushy, and unbearable, but we did have good memories as well, she was very caring, and we went on rides together, and we talked a good bit. The only really bad part was that if any conversation or situation began to sway out of her control, she'd play a trump, and I would bow out for fear of re-igniting the hellstorm those subjects had already proven to be. I think this practice made me start to tuck away a bunch of bad feelings...
Soon after, my wife became pregnant, and our life began to change in expectation of the new child. It became much more noticeable that the times I had to go for my job had placed strain on her, and I tried to make the time better for her by giving her all my attention, and to cope quietly with her mood shifts and the like. My least favorite of these was the seemingly random calls for a divorce. I would always talk her down, but it would come along again for the rest of the marriage. Unfortunately, this would also become tucked away.
Some of her friends from work (she had stopped working to keep from exposing the baby to harm) threw her a baby shower, and after a fun afternoon. We came home to one of the worst low points in our relationship. As soon as we crossed the threshold of the door, she let into me accusing me of desiring her friends. (We had had a similar conversation much earlier about my apparently 'wandering eyes" and I had long since acquiesced by looking at the ground when we were in public, and not speaking to any woman much more than a few sentences.) I attempted for a few hours to talk her down, and after seeming to find purchase, we went to bed.
Later that night, She woke me up with the same argument, and I had had enough at that point. I got up, and went outside the bedroom. This allowed her the opportunity to harangue me from the far side of the door with epithets that I never expected to hear from her because of her supposed Christian background. (I've only cursed at my wife on one occasion, but it isn't yet) That was it. I put my fist through the drywall outside the door.
This drove the fight to new levels and she threatened to call the police. I stupidly unplugged the closest phone, and tried to get her to calm down, as this was a soberingly new level of hysterics I was previously unaccustomed to. After she threated to walk out, barefooted, pregnant, and disheveled I stood in the doorway. After a few of the seemingly bottomless slaps that earned me, I told her to plug up the living room phone and call the police if that would keep her there, and she obliged. (The cell phone didn't have service in our apartment, just in case you were wondering)
When the cops arrived, I was handcuffed and incarcerated for CDV because apparently disabling the phone, and blocking the exit are illegal. I spent a few days in jail before the charges were dropped, and I went home. The Navy demanded that I have anger counseling at the family services building on base. There, I had my faults paraded out for me, and was told that my anger had no basis, but I swallowed it all. I was also told to enact a verbal contract with my spouse that entailed me having the right to postpone an argument to a specified time (not more than a few hours) to allow me to cool. I was skeptical of this because my previous attempts to walk away from arguments were seen as cowardice from my wife's point of view. My skepticism was duly placed apparently, as my first attempt to reschedule an argument led to me yeling (read: cursing) at her at the top of my lungs until she stopped talking, and then going to sleep on base to avoid more fallout.
After a few more arguments, it was finally close to the time for her to deliver the baby. I fought with the Navy to let me stay, but they assured me that I would be flown back as soon as labor started. that was also a lie, and I met my daughter when she was three days old.
Stupidly enough, I thought that the end of pregnancy marked the end of "The Fighting Time," as I had been apt to call it in my mind, but this was not the case. "The Fighting Time" was here to stay. A few months later, my wife found more pornography on my computer, and threatened to leave. While she and the baby were in another room, my frustration overcame me and I (stupidly) broke a window while throwing the folding chair in our room around. After more Family counseling, in which I was told that any aggression (from chucking things to hitting a pillow) was wrong, and I was obviously not adhering to the verbal contract I had made earlier.
The aftermath of this was that I worked hard to remain deadpan and stoic whenever an argument came up. I would even go out of my way to avoid them. Then I hit my wife for the first time.
I don't even remember what we were arguing about, but I put up my emotionless facade once again, and she decided to go to a new tactic to goad me, She called my mother a b*tch, and I slapped her on the right cheek.
If you will indulge me, my mother was murdered when I was twelve, and I was raised by my grandparents. My wife had never met my mother, ever. I will never be sorry for the slap I gave her for that.
After her attempt to appeal the situation to her family backfired, she and I made up, and we went back to the usual (read: clockwork) minor arguments.
Soon, it was time for me to get out of the Navy. I had had enough of missing my family, and I had one last deployment before I got out, so I sent her back to South Carolina so that she could have her family as a support, and she could find us a place to live when I got back. We had arguments about various minor things during that time, and she was disappointed that she could only get her old job as a waitress back. Sensing her distress, I ventured she should go to the nearby technical college and get some medical classes under her belt. (She always wanted to be a nurse)
When I separated from the military, I came home, and she had certifications in Phlebotomy and Medical Transcription. Now I had to find a new job, and that would spur the next terrible arguments. Namely, she wanted to be away from her family. She even threatened to leave if I didn't find a job in a new city. Fearing this, I took a new job in Charleston despite the travel involved because she was getting antsy with us living off of savings.
Once we had settled in, new contradictory arguments also came to roost. She wanted a job, and declared that she had an offer already, but turned it down because I wanted to move. She also declared that she missed her family, and was lonely because I had to travel with this job. After a few weeks of hearing these, I set to work. I performed a job search for her, wrote her resume, filled out her applications, put together an interview package, and walked her through a few dozen mock interviews after i got home from work. When she finally got a job at the local hospital, She seemed happy for a moment, but new concerns replaced those after my first road trip with the company.
Even before my first road trip, i had been searching for jobs I could move to and still make enough money to subsist, but most of the available jobs were either just like the job I had taken, or a severe decrease in pay. As he dissatisfaction grew, I began to devote more time, and money to her. I would watch the baby by myself to let her go out with friends, and I would work hard to allocate extra money to let her buy herself special things. I also take time to give her massages and I try to keep her from lifting a finger when I'm in town. Even after I am summarily dismissed, first from having sex, and secondly from even sleeping in the same bed, I continue to try to put a good face on things.
Fast forward a year to late 2006. I get a call at the hotel I'm staying in during a job in Gerogia, and she says she wants a divorce. I try to talk her out of it, by addressing her fears that I'm not looking for a new job, or that I don't sseem to love her anymore, but it's no go. I get home on the 22nd of december, and she tells me to get out. I tell her that I have to find somewhere to go, and she acquiesces, but I can tell she's still stewing. She lets little barbed comments slip from time to time, but I do my best to shrug them off.
Now it's Christmas, and this is the only other time I hit my wife, and the one I regret severely. We're driving back home to visit the family. My daughter is asleep in the backseat, and she says "I want you to move out when we get back." I don't snap at that point, but the straw is perched precariously over the metaphorical camel's back.
Later, she's driving, and doing one of my least favorite driving activities, text messaging and driving. I tell her to stop doing that while she drives, but she is indignant, and so I make a grab for the phone. (Stupid mistake #1) I don't quite get it, but manage to wrest it from her hands, and it tumbles to the floor. That's when it happens, She curses me, and I slap her in the mouth. (Stupid mistake #2). I don't know how, but my daughter manages to sleep through probably the worst argument I've ever had with my wife. Needless to say, the divorce is kinda engraved in stone now, but the story doesn't end there.
We don't have enough money for me to move out. She's addicted to psyhics.
But we did see a lawyer. he explains to my wife that she has to be separated from me for a year to file for divorce because she has no other real legal grounds. I don't drink, do drugs, smoke, cheat or beat her up. (yes I told him about the slaps) I also take car of my child, and work hard to try to keep her with the Joneses. (within reason)
Now last night, my daughter is in her room, and finds a pink thong sized medium underneath her bed. I already grudgingly agreed to move out by January 22nd to enact the separation, but I think she may have planted the underwear to give herself a route directly to divorce. She vehemently denies this, but there's no other explanation I can come up with.
Now the real problem, despite everything, i love my wife very much. I've never really asked much of her except being there. The sex isn't even really important to me, but I fear it's over. You guys (and women, if you care to) can give me advice if you like, but I've been bottling this for a long time, and I really needed to vent more than anything.