The Ultimate Betrayal

How's this for total bullshit? I just came to realize, via many parts inside, that my now ex-husband, R, was part of the abuse I experienced. What a fucking asshole! The pieces are not all in place but this much I know...he knew what was taking place and helped make it happen. They're also starting to let me in on knowledge about our whole marriage being a set up by "the group."



Some of you may understand this and others may not, but people involved in the cult are at in levels of society, including doctors, lawyers, police officers, and the military. They are also in other jobs that carry less power, such as blue collar positions. Such was the case with R. We worked together and I was married at the time. We knew of each other, but didn't know each other directly. One day I left for lunch and got about a half mile from the office when I realized my tire was flat. Great! Just great! What to do now? Walk back to the office in high heels? Call for assistance? Just then, R pulled up. He just happened to be going to lunch at the same time, to the same place, taking the same route. He gallantly changed my tire and as we talked, it turned out that we had both gone to the same high school, he grew up in a Dutch Christian Reformed Church, his parents and mine square danced together. It was uncanny how many things we had in common. And of course sharing the stories from high school just fostered the connection between us. It didn't take long for him to seduce me, although he'd likely say I pursued him. What I believe now is that long-hidden programming was triggered that made it impossible for me to resist the temptation to be with him. I quickly divorcd my first husband and moved in with R. Or rather, he moved in with me.

The courtship was volatile, filled with low-level phyiscal violence, verbal abuse, and alcohol. But what I thought was love that I felt, was actually fear. On some level, I knew that I was SUPPOSED to be with him. If I had known then what I know now, and if I had had the personal relationship with God that I have now, I would have run for the hills as fast as I could. I remember sitting outside our villa on our honeymoon and saying to myself, "This was a huge mistake and now I'm locked into it." I had no skills or ability to set limits and boundaries, so I didn't know how to stand up for myself. After years of being abused by my family, I didn't know that I COULD say no to something. I thought I had to go along with the program.

Within a few months, I was on a prescription tranquilizer to help with my nerves, which were beginning to fray. The fighting was constant and I felt hopeless that things would change. There were many times I grabbed a kitchen knife and seriously thought about cutting myself. I had not been a self-injurer at any other time in my life, but it was looking better all the time. Looking back, I think that the cutting would have been an attempt to strengthen the dissociation and get me "back on track." Six month after the wedding, we got into a fight and I took the whole prescription, which landed me in the hospital ER. I was given the option to stay for a week in the psych ward, which I gladly accepted (how many people WANT to be there?) because it meant a week of peace in my life. While there, I started to learn new skills that would allow me to say "no" and make choices that were better for me.

My counseling continues for two years and at one point, I was feeling suicidal again. I distinctly remember sitting on the floor in the dark of my bedroom and thinking I had a choice: I could kill myself or I could reach out to my pastor's wife, C, whom I barely knew. Thank God I chose the latter. When I met with her, she explained that God is intimately involved in my life and the struggles we have are not against flesh and blood but against the spiritual forces in the world. It was as if a lightswitch was flipped and things made sense. I didn't suddenly remember the ritual abuse, but I at least began to understand that God was personal...huge for me.

Needless to say, the changes in my life were not well-received by R. When our church went through a major split, he wanted to go with the "others," effectively removing the influence of my pastor and his wife, W&C. I fought tooth and nail to stay put and he capitulated. At every turn, my personal and spiritual grown were challenged. I was accused by R of being in a cult (how ironic), taking the spiritual things too far, discounting any revelation or understanding that the Lord provided.

There was a time when I began cutting myself. I remember it started just as a tiny scratch, wondering how it would feel. It escalated to doing it every day. Eventually, it became something that I did to either prevent dissociating or to enhance the dissociation to protect myself and other parts. It was also a way of punishing myself for perceived wrongs, and at other times to keep from physically lashing out at others, R in particular. Most of the time, he turned a blind eye to the cutting. When he did pay attention, he was angry and told me I was crazy. He cared little that he was provoking and eliciting that kind of response. In no way am I absolving myself of the responsibility for my choice. It took me a long time to realize that I really did have a choice to handle things in a different way.

Over the years, trauma and stress would trigger a switch and other parts would make their presence known. Whenever this happened, he would became angry and unresponsive. He reinforced the incident that caused the switch in the first place. At times, a younger part would come forward and he would treat them like an adult, rather than the 4 or 5 year old that they were. As memories would surface, he would discount and discredit them. At times, he would tell me I was crazy and should be locked up. He consistently defended my family, saying what good people they were. There were times that my mother unexpectedly appeared at my door and he invited her in.

There were other connections, as well. His mother kept my mother up-to-date about goings on in my/our lives. When our house was being built, his brother took both mothers to see the house in progress. Even though we had buried a Bible in the foundation and the house wasn't even complete, I felt an evil presence before we even moved in. Now I understand why. R's brother bowled and drank with my brother every week, so another source of information was available to my family.

Every time I made progress, he would make attempts to set me back. At times, he aligned himself with a family in our church who were Satanic plants, bent on destroying the ministry there. He repeatedly chose this person over me until he realized that their time was limited and the Lord was forcing them out. Then his tune changed. I remember during one time of group prayer in which R was involved, it very clearly came to me that there were spirits of blasphemy and degradation present. I kept it to myself but shared it with my pastor's wife later. Since we didn't know what Randy was involved with, these spirits didn't make sense and it seemed that I misheard. Now...they make perfect sense.

Since we've split, R has made feeble attempts to keep in contact. A text here or there about a friend's health, asking me to watch the dog while he goes out of town, showing up at church out of the blue, making sure he knows that he broke up with his girlfriend. I give him no information.

I am very grateful to the parts who finally were able to step forward and tell me the truth. While R's influence and ability to cue programming was diminished a long time ago, being fully cognizant of his ploys makes life so much less complicated. It is easy to see through his tricks and there is no grey area...it's all black and white for me now. There was a time when I loved him, but that time has passed. I realize that "there but for the grace of God go I." There is no difference between he and I. Both raised in the cult. God saw fit to rescue me from hell. I don't know why me and not Randy, but I do pray that he would come to know Christ during this lifetime.