Working on my memoir, God, the Devil, and Divorce, I've recently zeroed in on my husband's crazymaking behavior. Here's one definition for this behavior:
“Crazymaking confuses, causes paranoia and makes you doubt your perceptions. Crazymakers do this because a weakened victim is easier to control.”
I've left the following piece out of the memoir, but I wonder if it presaged a crazymaking pattern. What do you think?.
Sometime later I received an irate call from FOA. They had printed my letter in their newsletter and the mayor of Fargo was furious. He claimed his fair city had never had such a race. He wanted a retraction and an apology. I thought I was going to die of embarrassment, and I was upset with FOA for not checking out my information and publishing my letter without my knowledge or consent. I frantically tried contacting the TV news department, wanting to find some hard copy on the story, or at least a TV person who recalled the broadcast. If the race hadn’t been in Fargo, could they tell me where it had been? But they had no record. None. If the Internet and YouTube had been up and running back then, I could easily have found what I was looking for. But there was no way I could verify what I saw.
My husband, Jim, claimed not to remember much about the story―certainly not where the race had been held. All he would say was, “What did you do?!” At first I thought he was kidding, but when he repeated it, I began to wonder if he was serious, feeling he was pouring salt on my wound. For several days I wished I could disappear like an extinct species. “What did you do?!” became one of Jim’s teasing questions on a regular basis. I tried to act like I thought it was funny, but it took me several years to see the humor. Call me too sensitive, but I dislike being teased in this manner for my mistakes. A little light teasing? Maybe. But Jim’s seemed too much.