I am struggling in my relationship with Max. He requests more attention from me, and I know his request is rational. Truth is that I find it difficult to connect with him in an intimate way on a regular basis. It seems that "everything else" gets my attention and focus, while I place Max's needs on the back burner.

After the emotional abuse, or rather, after I left my abusive husband, I hoped the effects of abuse would disappear. Magically. Without any work from me. Those hopeful feelings minimized the difficulty of coping with life and relationships after emotional abuse. The intelligent part of me knew that after the emotional abuse it would take time to recover from the emotional trauma and regain my mental health. Alas, the intelligent part of me was correct.

Verbal abuse books helped me discover that my marriage problems were rooted in verbal and emotional abuse. I felt relief because up until I read the library of verbal abuse books available, I thought that I was losing my mind. My abusive husband had almost convinced me that every problem in our marriage was my fault. He said I was inept and out of touch with reality. The verbal abuse books taught me that my husband was wrong. But more importantly, the verbal abuse books taught me the vocabulary of abuse so I could finally describe what was happening to me.

Yesterday, Andi commented on Victims Think They May Be The Abuser. Andi said: . . . I reached the point where I feared that the emotional / verbal abuse was going to move towards physical abuse. It has been a long time since this happened. I've moved far away and started over, but I'm still scared, feeling PTSD symptoms, and can't seem to move on. I want so desperately to be whole again. Any thoughts and help would be greatly appreciated.

Life after abuse surpasses the definition of peaceful. There is no one but me to tell me what to do or how to do it.

Trust eludes victims of abuse during their abusive relationship. As much as I wanted to trust my ex-abuser--and told others that I could trust him--it just wasn't so (Trust Issues and Abusive Relationships). I thought if I was trustworthy and expected to be able to trust him, then he would magically become trustworthy and our relationship would spring to life. That never happened because you cannot ever trust an abuser with your heart. But you can learn to trust after your abusive relationship.

As a victim of abuse, my abuser held me to an impossible standard: "Be the perfect woman in my eyes." Whenever I did not think or behave the way his perfect woman did, then I suffered the consequences (abusive anger, name-calling, intimidation, etc.). In his eyes, my goal in life should be to become the woman he wanted me to be...flawless in his eyes. His perfect idealization left no room to be human, let alone myself! Please...Knock Me Off That Pedestal He often told me that he held me up on a pedestal, above all other women, and when I fell off that pedestal, he became angry. This explanation was meant to excuse his poor behavior; it was not an apology.

Some of you find it difficult to celebrate yourselves for the wonderful person you are. Perhaps you can't remember one single good thing about you that hasn't been made fun of, undermined, or turned into a weapon by your abuser.  It is difficult to keep a positive self-image let alone cultivate a positive attitude when someone else attempts to squash you like a crunchy cream-centered bug every time you get "too happy". In time, you may begin to feel like the fight for your Self is futile. A bit down the road, you may wonder why you fought at all. You think that you are not worth the fight - it's easier to become what your abuser wants you to be than to be who you want to be or become.

Brenda M. Bomgardner (@BrendaBomgardnr) tweeted "There is a way to the other side. It is living a life based on your own unique values." She is talking about the life you'll create during and after healing from abuses of all kinds. The trouble lies in defining what values you, the abuse sufferer, want to define as yours after digging yourself out from under the pseudo-values your abuser demanded you to incorporate into your Self.

Although unseen in the tumultuous immediate aftermath of The Day I Left Him, justice was served. Nevertheless, in my pain, I felt slighted by my son who ran from me betrayed by my husband who wouldn't admit the truth punished by the judge who gave custody to my abuser unable to see where my actions caused him any tragic feelings remotely similar to my own (I wanted him to hurt, and he didn't) It seemed he'd won. I felt justice wasn't only blind, but also the stupidest philosophical idea ever imagined by mankind.