Every scripture held sacred by humanity involves an individual receiving a sudden revelation. Whether it be the sight of a burning bush, riding past a dieing man, journeying down a dusty highway, at prayer in a dim cell or sitting in a tent surrounded by desert sand, the revelation occurs unexpectedly and offers an immediate clarity, a new purpose and a complete change of life.
I received such a vision almost five years ago. It was early morning and mid-summer. I was standing in a place to which I’d found myself being drawn with ever greater urgency over the preceding twelve months – the field gate beside the horse barn leading into the large paddock and resting my head on the shoulder of a mare I’d raised from a foal. A mare that had become more than just tame, more than a pet, she’d become the only living creature that I could go to. She’d see me leaning on the gate, canter over, gently snort into my face and then lean her head against mine and stay there until eventually the dark weight that covered my heart would start to lift.
I’d come to say goodbye to her. I’d decided to take my wife’s advice. She had told me plainly that she now had all of her children from the same father as she’d set out to do and I’d now become superfluous to her requirements. “Why don’t you just go and shoot yourself?” she’d said.
My shotgun was in the barn. Loaded. Waiting.
I’d long since abandoned a successful career. Started and sold a retail business. Bought a farm. Taken up a series of poorly-paying, minimum wage jobs whilst farming by lamplight. Lost the last one due to the recession. Started and abandoned three micro businesses in the last year and had just turned down a guaranteed place as a mature student at university. There was really very little to live for.
And that was when I received my revelation.
I suddenly had a vision of a large road map. But this map didn’t chart where I was going to, rather it marked the route I’d travelled over the last 15 years. Every decision that I’d taken was marked as a junction. I had the choice to go left, or to go right. My choices were marked on the map and I could see how they lead, over time, straight to me, to the present.
It’s seldom that you get to see the results of past decisions so clearly laid out. And I was amazed to see that I could ‘zoom in’ on the various junctions because at each turn there was a paragraph of writing explaining why I’d made that choice. I read those reasons with increasing disbelief. A series of bad choices and each labelled with the same words – ‘Consulted with and advised by (wife)’.
I couldn’t believe that. I’m a man, I make my own decisions and if they’re bad decisions I’ll gladly take whatever results from them. I don’t need to blame anybody else, definitely not going to blame my wife.
But as I thought that, those same little labels became audio-visual clips and every little ‘consultation’ was replayed to me. And I soon realised that I hadn’t made a single decision in the last 15 years.
My wife had been calling the shots. And she hadn’t been making good calls. Actually looking at her calls from a distance, one would almost be forgiven for thinking that she’d set out from the very start with just one aim – to completely destroy the man she’d married.
And that was something else I couldn’t understand. Why would you kill the goose that was laying the golden egg? Why would an intelligent woman give bad advice to her husband when she is relying on his success?
This idea was way beyond my comprehension. I’d been reared to believe that a man and a woman worked together to safeguard and to improve the future of their family unit. I’d seen this being played out in my immediate family. The man might be doing the ‘work’ but his wife was organising dinner parties, keeping her ears peeled for opportunities, networking and generally doing whatever she could to increase their financial security.
It made sense to me. Of course it never occurred to me that other types of family upbringing exist.
It never occurred to me that because my wife had been reared by a single-mother, that she’d have no idea of how a married couple co-operate. I’d always believed that the one person my wife did not want to become was her mother. Hence her wanting all of her children from the same father, hence our long-term relationship. I was so convinced of her determination not to follow in her mother’s disastrous footsteps that I’d married her. After getting to know her siblings I thought that the ‘crazy gene’ had bypassed her. I thought that she was so determined to make a success of her life that she’d be a good partner.
I was half right. She was determined to make a success of her life. But to do that she had to eliminate my career – so that she could slot into it (being an area in which she’d previously dabbled), had to create a family – to maximise public sympathy and finally, become the sole owner of a saleable large property in a sought-after part of the country.
All I had to do now, was make her a widow. Instead I reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone and called the university. They remembered me from a year ago and yes, there was still a place guaranteed for me.
Two months later, early one Monday morning the wife saw me packing sandwiches. “Where you going?” she asked. “College,” I replied, walking out the door.
A few years later when I graduated top of my class, I received a graduation gift from her – the initial draft of our seperation agreement. She moved out shortly afterwards – once it became apparent that I wasn’t going to ‘abandon his family’ by vacating my home. I have another 18 months before I can legally move forward to divorcing her. My new university-learned skills are being used to start a new business.
It won’t turn a profit until after the divorce is finalised.
From the day of my revelation to this I have neither sought nor taken her advice.
Thankyou for reading this. I feel rather embarrassed writing this out because a. I’m showing the world how stupid I was and b. because it seems as though I’m trying to put the blame on her shoulders. But I have since discovered that I am not alone, there are MANY, MANY men out there married or otherwise involved with BPD women.
Boys, believe me, they WILL try to destroy you.
...And in our own despair, against our will, Comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God. - Agamemnon; by Aeschylus
experienced 4 years, 10 months ago.
