Women Have Issues

My precious kitty had developed skin cancer on her soft pink nose due to sun exposure. Tears had burned my eyes with the thought of euthanasia. Needing empathy, I expressed my concerns to my husband. Who knew that could happen to a cat? 

Soon Kitty had four babies. The pretty calico soon developed a mean streak. The yellow tabby with big feet brought such laughter that my kindergartner named him Proud-Walker. The runt we called Cutie. A neighbor’s child claimed the unnamed fourth kitten. 

Of course, anyone with young children and a litter of kittens knows how those kids wear down any mother begging to keep them all. No. But I did cave with keeping Cutie along with her mother, Kitty. My kids had those two pets as bedfellows their entire childhoods. By the time Kitty got skin cancer, they were busy teenagers with a lifetime of memories, so the diagnosis hit hard.

Heartsick, I faced the decision of euthanasia. 

Pouring out my heartache to my husband, I expected sympathy, a hug, comfort. Instead, he said, “Take her to the vet. They will do it—then put her in a plastic bag and throw her out.” He didn’t skip a beat, rather went about his important day without a flinch.

Horrified, I felt sick as if I’d been punched in the stomach.

As Kitty suffered more each day, I knew she needed an end to her suffering. I called the vet. The children and I went to the dreaded appointment with our scared Kitty wrapped in a soft blanket. The doctor, filled with compassion, performed the necessary deed. Rewrapping our limp Kitty in her blanket, we drove home. Other than digging a hole for the burial, my husband didn't speak or participate in our little funeral. The girls and I wept.

That night, the nightmares began. In the dream, when I died, my husband wrapped me in a plastic bag and threw me out. I woke up screaming in horror. I felt helpless. Violated. With the dream recurring night after night, I asked my doctor to prescribe sleeping pills.

The experience seems as if it occurred yesterday. The recollection triggers difficult emotions. At the time, I lacked education about emotional abuse—my normal.

What I know now that I didn’t know then . . .

• Emotional abuse may lead to chronic pain, depression and anxiety.

• Emotional abuse occurs when a person’s words instill fear.

• Emotional abuse occurs when your spouse remains indifferent to your pain.

• The sleeping pills led to a dependency on prescription drugs.

 This experience, while unhealthy, was my "normal." Until I realized I had a problem, God could not teach me His ways. Until I learned the dynamics of abuse and dysfunction, I could not learn how to relate in healthy relationships. God led me on a long journey of healing and recovery. With his loving arms around me, and by His almighty power, my life has been transformed from a helpless victim to a woman of strong faith seeking to fulfill His purposes for my life--God pleasing instead of people-pleasing. 

If you are sick and tired of being sick and tired, please join me in pursuit of God, recovery, and transformation.