Since first finding recovery – from an abusive childhood, my addictive tendencies, abusive adult relationships…I find that there are times when I continue to get a cosmic ‘bonk’ on the head to get my thinking straight. Lately, it’s been on my heart to learn a lesson on commitment. I was telling a friend at work one day, after she had disclosed some personal things to me, that while i was involved in many programs and activities in high school and beyond, and became a volunteer at church and with Girl Scouts and the like in my adult life…I’ve never felt like I’ve been truly ‘committed’ to anything (yes, even my marriages, as short-lived and abusive as they were). The reason I was so involved and remained so involved in any extra-curricular that would have me (band, choir, sports, cheerleading, annual staff, FHA, 4-H, etc.), and went running with my girlfriends, took jobs, went to sporting events, and dated guys I had no interest in was, I was willing to do whatever it took to get me the he** out of that house…the one I less-than-affectionately refer to as The Funny Farm. This may be a bit off-topic, as this website is more about recovering from a current / former adult abusive relationship, and not so much about recovering from childhood abuse, but I have learned that the reason I kept finding myself in abusive relationships where I was devalued, is because I was taught that I wasn’t worth much…at some point earlier in my life…otherwise, I wouldn’t have put up with that from so-called friends and ‘lovers’ who could get away with bloody murder, but as long as they said those three little words….. I find I admire people who exhibit strength (but not brutality), and assertiveness (but not aggression), two things that my personality has been pretty short on. Then I come to websites like this, and befriend beautiful people (who perhaps the cosmos / universe / creator / etc. brought into my life for a reason). They tell me about the abuse they have endured, but aren’t quite ready to accept it as such. I read and hear about abusers crying that because their targets / pets / puppy dogs / possessions are growing tired / gaining strength to stop putting up with their evil, that means the person wanting out isn’t serious about the ‘commitment’ they made. They blame us for wanting to end things, that we’re ‘giving up’ or throwing in the towel. That they are more committed (read: ‘better than’ you and I) because they’re willing to stay for the long haul (and *suppressed gag* ‘put up with’ us and all we’ve put them through!!! ). To that I say BULL. BULLSHIT. BULL, F-ING-SHIT!!! Commitment is not a timeline. It’s not a number. It doesn’t mean getting to treat someone like crap because they made you a promise (with or without God’s blessing). There is breadth and depth to it. Commitment means giving fully of yourself to something, like a marriage. It’s the difference between going to school to get a diploma and going to get an education. It’s the difference between saying, “You said you’d stay with me forever! You promised me! How dare you leave?!?” and “I will spend the rest of my life showing you that you mean the world to me.” My parents have been married for 40+ years. Conventional Wisdom calls that a “successful marriage.” Nevermind that they have emotionally crippled their children in the meanwhile. That they have no clue as to what ‘love’ is. Their ‘success’ has no bearing on the fact that neither of them have been totally committed to one another or the marriage, with their whole hearts, from the beginning. My mother wanted someone to play opposite her starring role, as husband (second billing, of course). My father wanted to ‘do the right thing. / assuage his guilt. They put on what I call a “One-Act Play” because it’s always the same…Mother picks and picks and picks (you’re home too late / you’re home too early / you didn’t pour my juice / butter my toast before I asked you to–nevermind that you prepared the entire meal and set the table and all I had to do was drag my ass out of bed to walk to the kitchen–, etc.) at every little thing Father does. Father gets tired of it, and raises his voice or tells Mother off. Mother stops what she’s doing (usually eating…greater dramatic effect that way), to cry (so all witnesses can see what a bast*** he’s being to poor, emotionally crippled mommy), to go lock herself in their bedroom. She has spent the majority of my life saying all manner of nasty, negative things to and about him. He used to drive off…now he just sits and finishes his meal in peace.For all his faults (rage, extra marital affairs, etc), I’ve not once, NOT EVER heard him retort back anything even remotely as hateful to her as the things she says to him. Just a few weeks back, she said, with me in the room, “He’s such a sh**face.” then repeated to him, “You’re a real sh**face.” and her tone was almost mocking / joking. (why isn’t there a puking smilie on here’??)The point is…what is commitment? Is it abusing someone to the point of them believing their only choices are (a) an affair to find comfort / hear someone, anyone, please! tell them they are worthwhile at the risk of being found out and subject to further, now ‘justified’ abuse, (b) leave the relationship and be labeled a lowlife for abandoning poor helpless spouse (who will no doubt start a character assassination with any and all who will listen, or may even attempt an attempt at attempting suicide~for dramatic effect), and keep them from their children / try to alienate them from all supportive friends and family, or (c) ending it all by taking their own life thereby traumatizing the family even more? or even just staying, miserable, sad and lonely, slowly withering away with all manner of unexplained aches, pains, symptoms, slowly dying one little piece at a time? is that what commitment means to an abuser? That’s not what it means to me!What does it mean to you?