This Ruined My Marriage But I’ll Never Stop

This could be really juicy, right? An unchecked brain can imagine all types of scandals and possible reproachable behaviors. This post could go so many ways! And who hasn’t done something during their marriage that forever affected the relationship? Obviously, I have.

A black-and-white photo of a married woman wearing a Harry Potter necklace holding hands with her husband. There is a black zigzag line dividing the two people in the photo showing that the marriage is over.

Let me start by saying that I was way too committed to making my marriage work. Is that possible? Yes, absolutely. Don’t get me wrong – marriage takes commitment. You know that. But there’s a healthy way to do it and a “suck your soul straight outta your eyeball” way to do it. My intense commitment to my marriage involved putting me and my children in harm’s way and I deeply regret what I did.

I so badly wanted my marriage to be awesome. I think most people want that. However, as an Adult Child of Alcoholics, I was keenly aware of the other option and what it does to a person. I so badly wanted to give my children a happy, lovely childhood in a happy, lovely family. I was willing to do anything and give up anything to achieve it. And, believe me, I did.

I didn’t realize it at the time but I think I kinda saw my marriage as part of some twisted proclamation of triumph over my childhood circumstances. I had grown up in so much chaos and I had always wanted to have a “normal” family. I guess I thought that being married with a cute, little family of four would prove that I had defeated the dysfunction and done something better. I had successfully made my happy family finally happen!

So when my husband took a sharp turn from goofy geek to scare-me-shitless sadist, I saw my whole world being engulfed in the fiery flames of dysfunction yet again and I did what came naturally to me: I became a firefighter. I vowed to prevent and put out all of the fires single-handedly while also KonMari folding all of the laundry and writing handwritten Christmas Cards each December! Take that, dysfunction! You’re not taking me and mine down!

It feels really embarrassing to tell you some of my “firefighting” ways. However, I’ll tell you because I like you and I don’t want you to make the same mistakes that I made. So what did just some of this “firefighting” look like?

  • I read literally everything I could find – all of the books and all of the blog posts – on codependency, communication, marriage, toxic in-law relationships, etc.
  • I wrote letter after letter filled with “I” statements, forgiveness that was never asked for, and oodles of encouragement. I knew he was a good person at heart! He could do it! I was rooting for him!
  • I bought motivational artwork to hang on the wall. I put up affirmations around the house. I sent lovey-dovey emails. I gave him gifts. I made lists of everything that I liked about him so I could only focus on those aspects of his personality.
  • I kept a backpack filled with diapers, wipes, water bottles, snacks, cash, toys, and books right next to the door so the kids and I could safely make a quick get-a-way when he flew into a rage and things got scary. Oh, and spoons! Because sometimes it took a while before I felt safe enough to go home. Dinner time would be upon us and the kids would be hungry. I would often buy Yoplait yogurts and granola bars at the store to eat. I didn’t want him mad that we went out to eat without him…
  • I forgave and tried to fix all of the crazy bad financial decisions he was making that were plunging us deeper into debt. I sold everything of mine that I could think of to pay off debts while he sold maybe 3 video games and kept racking up the bills.
  • I made a “Bad Day Box” for him so that he could reach in for a surprise any time he was upset. Yep. I thought fun greetings cards, candy, and knick-knacks on demand might curve his rage and untreated childhood trauma…
  • I literally begged on my knees. My stinging, tear-filled eyes full of desperation. My stuffy yet snotty nose swollen and red. I begged him to help me fix our marriage and do right by our children. He often just ignored me. Usually, he would go mess around on the computer.
  • And the list goes on…

I did everything I could think of to do during my firefighting days. And none of it worked. I shouldered so much guilt during this time for being a “shitty wife” who couldn’t make her husband happy, protect her kids from the damage, or do anything right. I started to wonder “Why am I not enough?” which scared me because it is the EXACT SAME thing I used to wonder about my alcoholic and addicted parents. See how my childhood trauma was playing out in my marriage? Oooof. Big time.

I stumbled into Al-Anon during all of this because it seemed cheaper than therapy. That’s me being honest. I went to work on my own childhood stuff with my parents but you know what happened? With increased exposure to a great Al-Anon family and personal help from my sponsor, I started to realize that my husband’s behavior wasn’t my fault (just like my parents’ addictions weren’t my fault) and my mindset started to change.

So what heinous and shameful atrocity did I commit that nailed the final, rusty nail into my double corpse-filled marriage coffin?

Here it is, my friend:

I committed to my recovery. ? I know, shocking!

I started:

  • Thinking that I didn’t deserve his abuse
  • Asking for what I needed
  • Telling my truth
  • Caring for myself
  • Saying “No” when I wanted or needed to say “No”
  • Working the 12 Steps
  • Creating boundaries

Do you know what I ultimately did? I started feeling better! And that really pissed him off.

The more I took care of myself, the angrier he got.

The angrier he got, the more aggressive he became in every aspect.

The more aggressive he became, the more terrified I felt.

The more terrified I felt, the more I sought solace in my Adult Child of Alcoholics and Al-Anon recovery work. This kept going until the situation became an arsenic-laced air fryer and the marriage burnt to a crisp. Stick a finalized divorce decree in it, it’s done.

And you know what? 

I wouldn’t give up what I’ve learned and how I’ve grown for anything. Not even a pawn shop-purchased ring on my finger and all the symbolism it held – both real and imagined.

I don’t mean to downplay any of this or make it sound like I just had an easy-to-come-by epiphany one day and everything was smooth self-care from there. That is so not even close to the truth. Adult Children of Alcoholics have a hard road ahead of them – I don’t have to tell you that. And it has indeed been brutal. My cute, little family of three is still trying to work through some of the dystopian-like aftermath of it all. But you know what? I have hope that we’ll get there. I think we’ll be okay. Better than okay even! And do you know why? Because I learned the importance of committing to my own recovery and how my wellness affects everyone I love. I know how important it is and, as I said before, I’ll never stop. Not ever.

Can you relate to any of my story? Let me know in the comments. And thanks for being here. ❤️