You will recall saying this when we got married. You said this as a vow. A binding contract witnessed by God. You agreed to it. So, when it all goes wrong (as it will invariably will) what will happen? I won’t divorce you. You can be sure of that. That will take too much of my time and energy and I also want to keep you connected to me (see Fantastic Elastic) . If you decide to divorce me then you will face my full wrath. How dare you have the audacity to take such a step? You are alleging that I have done something wrong when we all know the reason was that you imagined we had problems in our marriage. Admittedly, I had the grounds to divorce you, based on your unreasonable behaviour in moaning, questioning and nagging me, but I persevered. I would not let the institution of marriage be sullied by your behaviour and I ploughed on. Now you have chosen, on false grounds, to divorce me. How could you? I have done nothing wrong. I gave you everything (in the beginning) and now you suggest that I am inferior in some way that you wish to part from me. Not a chance in hell.
If you thought being married to me was torture, try divorcing me. I will evade service of papers repeatedly so the process is slowed down. I will repeatedly change lawyers (because they don’t say what I want to hear and thus they are incompetent) and seek adjournments (continuances) based on those changes. I will reach an agreement with you and then deny I ever did. I will reach an agreement then breach it. I will dig up every and I mean EVERY sleight you cast in my direction and use it against you. You will be staggered at my recall of such (imagined) events which I will list and detail. I will up my charm offensive over your lawyer (who clearly fancies me by the way – he or she) and also over the judge. I will pay lip service in court to orders and soft soap the judge who will be taken in by my façade of calm, pleasant reasonableness (seen this before perhaps?) and you will be the one churning with rage as another hearing is delayed or goes against you. My assets will be hidden. I will not make support payments. I will deny the existence of assets. I will hound you. I will harass you and if you involve the police I shall switch to my charming self again in an effort to paint you as the aggressor. I will strain every sinew and muster every brain cell to outflank you in the hope that you will give up or concede ground to what I want. Divorce me and you will understand the concept of TOTAL war.
I cannot stand to be criticised. I do not remember a lot about my childhood but I do recall that I tried very hard to ensure that my parents, in particular my mother were proud of me. This was difficult. She set high standards which of course were for my own good and to ensure that I strove to be the best because as she told me, I was the best. If I fell short then her scathing criticism of me left me crushed. I felt like my insides had been ripped out and waved about in front of my face and I needed to extinguish that feeling fast.
That sensation of utter devastation if I am criticised has never left me. In discussion with Dr O I have learned that it blossoms from two things. The first is that this feeling of massive vulnerability and wretchedness still persists and I cannot stand it. I think this is peculiar to me because God has made me brilliant but He wishes to remind me of my mortality and therefore causes me to feel such an horrendous pain when I am attacked. It sickens me and leaves me wracked with agony. The second is the fact that I should not be criticised and especially not by those who are beneath me. I cannot fathom out how those who are inferior to me have any standing by which they can actually pass judgement on me. That is entirely valid and logical. However, this second element ignites inside me something which I have learned overrides the devastation and that is important to me. The sense of injustice and indignation that arises from this undue and unnecessary criticism ignites a fury that is immense. It explodes inside me with unrivalled speed and then erupts with such violence that the initial wretchedness I feel is blown away within moments. I need this rage. I need it to extinguish the horror of the devastation. It needs to burn with such magnificent fury that it strengthens me again. This rage cannot however sit inside of me. It must be poured out and directed. You criticised me, you created the devastation and thus you must feel my immense rage in order for the devastation to be obliterated. In that time you will be obliterated too by my anger, my rage and my fury. But that is collateral damage to my need to remove the emptiness inside. You caused my pain so you must feel the cure. I can see it is unpleasant for you, the shouting, the venom, the accusations and vitriol that I send in your direction. Sometimes the cure erupts from my fists. I cannot help it as I must let the rage burn to remove the emptiness. You can help it though ; don’t criticise me.