One of my greatest faults during my negative marital experiences was my inability to allow others to see what was real. Regretably, I actually believed I was protecting my children by not telling anyone. I didn't want them to have to speak out and risk their being hurt if I was too weak to follow through with leaving. I see now that I was wrong in doing this, but it certainly didn't feel "wrong" at the time. The actual and perceived danger was too great. Most often I denied the reality of it, believing it was my fault. I thought, "I just needed to change something about myself and the violence and degrading behavior will stop." My self-talk often included statements like, "There must be something wrong with me because this type of behavior would not happening or be so severe if I were acceptable." After much help and educating myself I can now recognize this as not only inaccurate, but a distorted thinking pattern that was reinforced by daily put-downs and insults.

One of the first angels in my life who dared to reach in and push past the "bull" was a co-worker. She recognized the signs that I did not want to admit to. I jumped when anyone entered my office. I had constant dark circles under my eyes and was tired all the time. I was often sick with infections and migraines. I began to lose interest in things that were once enjoyable to me. I stopped being involved with friendships. My work began to suffer. I lacked the ability to concentrate and often forgot what I was saying in the middle of saying it. I'd fade away during meetings as my mind wandered and the voices around me lowered to a dull whisper. I'd doze off at my computer, exhausted from not sleeping night after night. I was a department secretary and executive secretary to three directors and this was no way to be behaving.

She came into my office one day and shut the door behind her. As usual, I nearly jumped out of my skin. She came to my desk and said, "Spill it." Wide eyed, I looked at her and said, "Spill what?" She asked what was going on and let me know the things she was noticing in my behavior and appearance that were out of the ordinary for me. She told me she knew that things were not right at home and wanted to know what was going on. She was very direct and it surprised me. I began to shift into a protective/defensive mode and made excuses for my behavior changes by telling the partial truth. I hadn't been sleeping well (true) and was a little nervous (understatement) because of lack of sleep. Just as I started to hear myself make excuses, she cut to the chase and asked direct questions. "Why aren't you sleeping?" "What is happening at home that keeps you from sleeping." I couldn't keep it in. It was like a flood wall came down inside and I started to tremble. (For more than five years I continued to have this physiologic response when I thought about or discussed what went on in our home.) Needless to say, when she took me to lunch, I "spilled it."