Game Changer

Imogene was beginning to feel like the old blowup clown she got from her grandparents for Christmas when she was seven. It stood three feet tall and every time she punched the balloon clown it would fall back only to pop right back up for more abuse. Imogene sometimes marveled at her resilience to take the abuse from Jeff and keep coming back up. She was stronger when she recoiled as of late compared to when she went down. In hindsight, she realized that was the entirety of her marriage. Jeff would knock her down with verbal assaults, ferocious lies, endless intimidation and manipulating. Every time, Imogene would just get right back up and start all over again.

Jeff was pulling out all the stops during the divorce proceedings. His head games were exhausting and the stress of trying to keep up with all of it wore on Imogene. One day as she walked past Jeff, just minding her business, he half-heartedly said something.

“I’m sorry; what did you say?”

“You heard me.” He hissed.

Imogene did not hear what he had said. She had stopped focusing on him months ago. There was no point, nothing good ever came of it. He was always looking to start a fight. Imogene hated fighting.

“No actually, I didn’t. What did you say?”

“I can’t believe you called me lazy.”

Imogene stopped. Her first thought was, did she miss something. What just happened?

“I didn’t call you lazy.”

“Yes, you did. Last week.”

“Jeff, I never called you lazy. Where is this coming from?”

“I told you, but you can’t remember because you were drinking.”

“What? I don’t drink like that.”

“Yes, you do, that’s why you can’t remember anything.”

Imogene almost fell for that. She does have a glass or two of wine while making supper and one with supper, but not to the extent she is falling down drunk, let alone cannot remember anything. The more she thought about it the more she realized she was never tipsy.

“Do not talk like that to me ever again. That is not true and you know it.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Stop talking to me like this. Stop talking lies about me. You have no right.”

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want; now get the fuck out of here.”

Imogene was not going to be dismissed. “I never said that and you know it.”

“Oh, you’ll see. Everyone will know the truth.”

“Stop it. You cannot keep saying these lies about me, Jeff.”

Imogene rationalized, if she was drinking to an extent that was of great concern, why had Jeff never said anything prior to the divorce. If you loved someone and had concerns of their behavior, would you not want to get them help? Did the not say in sickness and in health during their wedding vows? If the tables were turned, even during the divorce, Imogene would have told the father of her children to seek help. Jeff was weaponizing this. He was trying to make her look bad. He was desperate. Imogene was getting smarter.

Imogene had recently learned a new vocabulary word, gaslighting. Jeff had been doing this their entire marriage and he was upping the ante, throwing in all his chips. He would say anything he wanted and it was his gospel truth which he believed. Imogene had her own truth; she was not going to play his games ever again.

As of late she felt more like the game she would play with her siblings growing up in the seventies, Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots. Two players, each with a robot and handles which would move their robot around a ring, would attempt to punch the opponent’s robot with the goal of hitting them hard enough the head would pop up indicating the game was over.

Imogene felt like her head was being popped off with the daily barrage of Jeff’s lies and insults. She would cry in her pillow every night wishing there was someone who would gently push her head back down so she could start the game over with some reassurance she was going to get through this. It was not about winning the game, it was to prove to herself she was not the loser Jeff portrayed her to be.

“You know you are in an abusive relationship?”

It was Elizabeth from book club. That was the night the wine bottle went around the table a few times too many. Imogene was tipsy, but she did remember what she had said the next day. For whatever reason, she had to let it all out. She needed to be heard. More importantly, she needed to hear it for herself.

Imogene cried, “I’m beginning to see that.”

“You are not alone.”

It took a day or two to let those words sink in. When they did, Imogene felt heard. Finally, there was an explanation to the years of turmoil. Imogene realized something very important, how can she expect respect from others when she did not respect herself enough to put an end to the abuse years ago?

That was a game changer.