Way back in 2007, I was beginning to recognize that my husband was manipulative, and that the physical abuse (pushing and shoving) was wrong. I still didn't realize it was domestic violence. He hadn't hit me in the face or broken a bone. I transcribed this conversation about going out to dinner on a Saturday night -- something we very rarely did -- within minutes of it occurring. At the time, he took me out of the house rarely, and I was not allowed to go out on my own. I don't drive, so I couldn't get anywhere on my own. I was completely isolated. I knew no one locally. I wasn't allowed to maintain friendships in real life. I also added my thoughts during the conversation, and what I perceived he was thinking.
There was only one online friend (at the time) that I told the truth (somewhat) about what occurred in my marriage. I sent this transcript to her to ask for her opinion. For some time before this, I had been discussing leaving, taking my cats, and going to live with her, because I was becoming increasingly frightened of the pushing and shoving my husband was inflicting on me. I had been suggesting to my husband that we should see a counselor for more than 3 years, but he constantly refused. We'd had separate rooms for 3 years by this time. I wasn't allowed to sleep with him in the master bedroom.
Almost all our conversations were as adversarial as this one, by this point in time. At the end of this conversation, I was shoved to the ground. Unfortunately, my friend suggested this was just a difference between men and women and how they perceive things, and that maybe he didn't mean to shove me to the ground. I wasn't completely honest with her about how often the pushes and shoves occurred. I am very ashamed about this.
It's difficult to read this now many years later, and after he tried to kill me. If you recognize yourself in a conversation like this with your intimate partner, please leave now! It's only going to get worse, much worse.
I shall call him "ogre" because he is one.
I shall call him "ogre" because he is one.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Time: 6:00 p.m.
Ogre: Maybe you’d like to go out for dinner later because I know you never get out and haven’t been outside the house in like 3 or 4 months?
Me: That would be great.
(She’s so excited, wow! A night out.)
She goes to lay down for a nap which Ogre had prevented me from doing two hours before over his insistence he give her his new customer information which started a row that lasted two hours. She hadn’t slept much the night before, because Ogre had kept her up all night, waking her up, telling her he wasn’t feeling good. He had dragged her out of bed by her hair at one point, and slapped her across the face to wake her at another point.
Time: 6:45 p.m.
Sounds of stomping feet on upper floor in heavy boots, multiple slams of bathroom door and garage door, more feet on stairs, followed by more slamming of bathroom door.
Me: (getting up from trying to take a nap but unable to sleep because of all the noise):
Says: Stomp stomp, stomp, slam, slam, slam.
Ogre: That’s what I’m good at.
(Chuckles smugly. Thinks: “What’s her problem? She deserves a nap? Why?)
Me: What time is it? Oh my God it’s 6:45 p.m. I only just lay down.
Ogre: See you in a bit. (Laughs as he walks out the door of the house.)
She takes a shower, and begins getting ready to go out.
Time: 7:30 p.m.
Ogre returns from wherever he went, and as he comes in the garage door, yells up the stairs to Me:
Ogre: Hey um, maybe you’d prefer if I went to the Outback and picked something up since it’s getting so late?
(Thinks: “I’m getting out of this. She’s not ready. Of course, I didn’t give her a time, but I’ll use that. I don’t want to go out. Screw her.)
Me: Whatever you want.
(Sighs, because she knows she’s not getting to go out tonight so what’s the point in trying. She’s been down this road so many times. If she pushes him to go out, he’ll just act like a jerk. Wonders if she’s going to get pushed or shoved tonight.)
Ogre: Well no, we can go out. You said you never get out of the house. It’s just that I don’t want to be out late.
(Hangs head, puts head in hands for extra dramatic effect, sulks and sighs,” poor guy” routine.)
Me: Late? It’s 7:30, you just got back. You never want to go out this early. I am almost ready and only need 15 minutes to finish getting ready. What do you define as too late to go out?
(Thinks: “How did this happen? 45 minutes ago, he was going out to “run his errands”. He never suggested I should be ready when he gets back. We never go out before 8. I can still be ready by 8 no problem. What’s up with him now? Either he never wanted to go out in the first place, or he decided while out on his little trip he didn’t want to go out. I can’t win here. I should give up before I’m made to feel like this is all my fault. But he won’t let me do that. He knows where my buttons are and he’ll push them all. I wonder if I’m going to get pushed or shoved tonight.”)
Ogre: Well I want to get to bed early and I want to be home before 10:00 p.m. and I just don’t want you to make me stay out late.
(Hangs head, puts head in hands, sulks, “woe is me look on face”, poor guy routine to the hilt.)
Me: Look, it’s pretty obvious you don’t want to go out. Why don’t you just say that and go on up to the Outback as you want. How am I supposed to read what you said about “maybe I’d prefer if you went to the Outback?” What does that really mean? Are you really saying “Screw the bitch isn’t ready and if I have to take her out and listen to her go on and on about Journey, even though I don’t want to, she was supposed to be ready to go by now.” Even though you didn’t tell me that, was I supposed to read your mind? Or what are you really saying? Why don’t you lay it out because I just can’t read your mind?
(Thinks: “Damn it, here we go again. I can’t take these stupid games. Why can’t he just say what he wants instead of having to make me feel like everything is my fault? Now we’ll just have to go through the usual BS routine until he feels sure I think it’s my fault, not his, and he can walk away feeling like a martyr AGAIN. I am so sick of this”)
(Laughs maniacally, and turns his back on her to dismiss her. He walks into the garage and starts washing his precious Corvette towels which are so much more important than her. He wants this conversation over in a hurry so he can get back to looking at trading charts, playing Age of Empires, and he sees a huge out here, if he manipulates this situation properly, and he will.)
Me: It that’s what you mean, yeah, you should say it because I’m sick of trying to read your mind and read between your hints and innuendos.
(Thinks: “Man, I’m so fed up of this. Look at this avoidance technique. He won’t look at me. He’ll act like he’s totally into washing his Corvette towels that cost $19.99, as if they cost an absolute fortune. When he’s ready for the big manipulation, he’ll look at me then, I know that much. Dear God, why do I have to deal with this? Why? Why can’t he just say what he wants? If I say I want to go out now, he’ll sulk all night long and I’ll feel worse than I already do. It’ll be such an awful night and he’ll push me or shove me or something. God, I’m so sick of this. Please make it stop!”)
Ogre: Really? I thought you didn’t pick up on hints and innuendos? You always say that.
(Acts smug now because he knows he’s winning and soon she’ll be eating out of his hand. Gets a grin on his face. Goes into garage and walks towards dryer. This is the ultimate brush-off. He’s won and he knows it, but he also knows she’ll follow him to say something else, no doubt. She’s already feeling guilty, good, he got her, AGAIN.)
She goes into the garage after Ogre.
Me: Yes, I’m terrible at hints and innuendos but I’ve lived with you long enough that I know when you say certain things, you mean something else. Can’t you just pay me the courtesy of saying what you actually mean?
(Thinks: “Here we go. Cast up something she said before now and make her feel bad. He’ll convince her he’s not the one who doesn’t want to go out and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to make her happy. Then, he’ll do the “I’m such a great guy routine.” He’ll imply she’s just a terrible bitch. Go ahead, keep it up, Ogre. She’ll never win, and she knows that. Even if she got him to go out tonight, he’d sulk and be a jerk all night and most likely find 14 different ways to insult her and that would ruin the night anyway. Why is she even bothering to have this discussion? She already knows what the ultimate result will be. He always gets his way. Oh yeah, we’re doing this because he’s got to play it out until he feels he’s manipulated her into thinking it’s her fault. What’s really sad is he’ll probably get her there at some point. He’ll convince her it’s all her fault. He always does.”)
Ogre: Well you picked up on this one.
(Laughs smugly. He knows he’s still ahead here. She’ll cave and he’ll get his way and better yet, he’ll convince her it’s her fault. Oh how easy this is. Maybe he’ll even push her or shove her tonight as well...)
Me: Yes, I did. Like I said, I’ve been living with you long enough to know some of what you mean sometimes. But I can’t read your mind.
(Gets sad and chokes up, because, what’s the point? The evening out is now gone, and he’ll just keep this going until he convinces her it’s all her fault so he can go do what he wants without feeling guilty This is nothing more than another of his mind games. Thinks to herself: “Does he even realize I hate playing this game and it makes me feel worse? Does he even care as long as he wins? How long before he pushes me or shoves me or throws something at me?”)
Ogre: (yelling loudly now) No, I said we can go out, didn’t I? Go and get ready, come on.
(Looks aggressive and very pissed off now. Gets right up in her face, threateningly. He’s not sure if he’s still winning and he thought he was ahead and going to get his way again.)
Forget it. What’s the point in me saying yes now? If I do, you’ll sulk and spoil the evening anyway and then I’ll feel horrible for putting you through an evening at dinner done just for my sake. It’s quite obvious to me you don’t want to go out.
(Thinks: “Any second now, the pouting will begin. He won before we even started. Please God, don't let him push me tonight.")
Ogre: {very aggressive and yelling now}
I said I’d go out, didn’t I?
(Pouts like a teenaged bratty boy. Is he losing here? Damn this bitch.)
Me: Yeah, but I’d rather avoid the hassle and I don’t want to feel like a bigger asshole for putting poor Ogre out by making him take me to dinner. It ruins the entire effect of going out and just makes me feel worse. It’s not worth it. I’d rather stay in and let you do what you want. That way, I avoid all these feelings of how awful I am to drag you out, make you sit through my awful company, and watch you sulk and yawn because you hate it and you’re so tired, and me making you go out, makes you even more tired. Go to the Outback or wherever. You won.
(Thinks: “And there’s the pout. Now comes the “ultimate martyr routine” if this follows his usual schtick, and maybe a push or shove for effect.”)
Ogre: (suddenly kind but with a sneaky look)
Would you rather go later and go to the Thirsty Turtle and listen to whatever music they have tonight?
(Thinks: “Aha, I know this is what she really wants. If I throw this in, I’ll have no guilt that I didn’t make an attempt to make her happy and if we ever do have to go to a counselor, like she’s been suggesting,, I’ll be able to say I offered. After all I’ve said and done so far in this conversation, there is no way she’s going to say yes to this because I’ve manipulated her enough and I can see how she’s weakened. This will clinch the deal.” Looks smug.)
Me: (Pauses)
You know I love to listen to music and that makes me happy. Really? We could go there tonight?
(Taken aback. This came really out of left field. Why is he offering this? He just made it clear he doesn’t want to go out. What am I missing here?)
Ogre: (Angrily)
Okay, let’s do that then. Go get ready. I'll be up too late, but if it makes you happy ...
(Turns away, waiting for her to take the bait, so he can then find a way out of it, make her think it was her idea.)
Me: Well isn’t that way too late for you?
(Thinks: “What’s going on? I’m lost? Am I being played again or is he actually sincerely willing to do something I like and without ruining it by sulking or insulting me? There’s no way it’s going to be this easy. It never is. What is he up to?”)
Ogre: Well let’s see, they close at midnight, I can be home and in bed by one.
(Pauses and sighs for dramatic effect, looks pensive.)
But don't we have to get up for your Unity church tomorrow that you want me to take you to? I know it means so much to you, even though I don’t like it, but you know I'll do it for you because you want to go. I’ll be really tired … it won’t be good for me … and then, if you want to stay for one of those classes or something that you always say you want to be able to attend, I don't know how I'll stay awake to go back and pick you up ...
(Trails off. Thinks “This should do it.” Looks smug but tries to pretend he’s thoughtful. Looks directly at her for the first time in the entire conversation, actually the first time of the entire day, maybe the entire week or month.)
Me: No, let’s not do that. It’s obvious you don’t want to go out. Just go to the Outback and pick us up dinner.
(Thinks: “Dammit, I got taken in again by the “Ultimate Martyr” part of his schtick yet again, didn’t I? He plays that part too well especially when he actually looks at me since it occurs so rarely. But now, I feel guilty. Why do I still fall for this after all these years? He is giving me a choice between dinner tonight or Unity tomorrow. But chances are, he won’t do either. He’s been blowing off Unity for months now. Why am I falling for this again”)
Ogre: Well, then get dressed and come with me to the Outback and then, you'll get out for a few minutes, so you can’t say you never get out. Wait, do you have clothes?
(Thinks: “I’ve used the washer and dryer all week, every day, as I always do. There’s no way she has clean clothes, I hope, or does she? I hope not. I should totally get her on this point.”)
Me: I don’t know, I think I do though. I’m almost ready. I just have to get dressed.
(Thinks: “Wait does he actually want to go out? Or, he just wants to bring me to the Outback to say he took me out? Am I reading him wrong? Why am I so confused?”)
Ogre: Well, go look. (Angrily, yelling) Oh God, look at the time. Do it now, right now! I was going to put this towel in the dryer but I’ll wait and see if you need to dry anything first. You know you say you think I irritate you all the time, well what really irritates me is this kind of stuff with you. Goddamit!
(Pretends to look at a watch he’s not wearing and turns away looking smug again. Thinks : “I know I’ve won.” Begins picking fluff off the towel which is extremely precious and used to wash the precious Corvette. Looks angry)
Starts shouting:
F--k! Shit! Goddammit! F--k! Shit! Goddammit! F--k! Shit! Goddammit!
Me: What’s wrong?
(Feeling trapped here. This is a losing battle. Thinks: “Why am I even bothering? This is more manipulation. I did it again, and for a moment thought he was actually being sincere. What’s the next move in “Ogre’s Ultimate Manipulation Playbook”? Oh yeah, it’s a sympathy ploy, and he’s showing his irritation knowing how much I hate that, and also showing me a preview of what the night would be like if I actually said yes, let’s go out. Wait for it, any second now. He always follows the exact same routine verbatim.”)
Ogre: (yelling)
The dryer got stuff on my towel because I put something in the dryer with it. I didn’t realize. You distracted me. I need to get it washed again. I hope it isn’t ruined.
(Acts like a poor pathetic little boy and this $19.99 towel is irreplaceable. Even fakes a lip quiver to drive his point home. Thinks: “This will get her sympathy thing going. It works every time. I’m home free now. I won’t have to take her out anywhere”)
Me: Okay well never mind, you go ahead and do that, and just never mind. Then, when you get time, go to the Outback and get us some steak. Forget about doing anything else.
(Thinks: “I called that one, even though for a second, I almost fell for it AGAIN. Just let him have his way. It’s not worth it. He should become happy now and make a bad joke. I just hope I don’t get pushed”)
Ogre: Well if I do, you’ll have to watch Larry David with me?
(Laughs. Looks victorious. Knows he won and it’s over and done now.)
Me: You know I hate that show. Even hearing it from upstairs while you’re watching it while you’re watching, it makes me ill.
(Thinks: “There’s the bad joke right on cue. But I love how he throws in a bit of guilt that I won’t watch his show with him, even though he’d never watch any of my shows with me. He’s the ultimate manipulator. He really should teach classes in how to manipulate people. He could make a fortune.”)
Ogre: (Fake yawns dramatically.) You know I’m really tired, even though I took a long nap today. If you don’t mind, I would like to just stay home. Sorry, I know you never get out, and it’s been months. I need to sleep in tomorrow and rest, so let's not do Unity either. Sorry.
