Couple that anger with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, which often had me confused, frightened, and knowing that there was something seriously wrong with me, and, well, I was a mess.

The first time I married, it was to woman who was almost exactly like my mother. She wasn’t physically abusive, but she was a master at degrading and discounting everybody around her.

When she divorced me twenty years ago, because, according to her, I wasn’t exciting enough, I was devastated. I thought my life was over. Nobody loved me. Nobody wanted me. Nobody cared if I lived or died…not even myself.

People didn’t have to tell me that I was garbage; I knew it already. They didn't have to tell me that I was stupid.  I was told that every day of my life.  Nobody had to tell me that I was a disappointment to my parents.  They told me themselves all of the time.

From my mother and my first wife, I learned to handle disappointment by being verbally abusive.  When I grew angry, I would find the worst possible things to scream at a person (my wife, my kids, my friends) and then launch the assault with full force.

I would break things. Throw things. Punch walls. Kick furniture. Go off for hours in fevered rants.

Every project that I ever embarked upon was destined to fail because, from the start, I knew that I wasn’t good enough, or smart enough, or creative enough to be successful.

Mary Ellen found me in this state, and, somehow, she saw something worth loving.

The first few years of my marriage to Mary Ellen were a little rocky, as I began falling into old, familiar behavior and thought patterns. We fought often. I found myself getting angrier and angrier. I even started thinking about a second divorce.

Then, the revelation struck, and, believe it or not, I can remember the exact moment when I decided to change my life.

I was leaving for work one morning, and I was in a typical, bad mood. Mary and I had words. I remember throwing some cutting remark at her as I stormed out of the house and slammed the door behind me. I had made it the entire 100 feet down the walkway to the driveway when I remembered that I had left my lunch back in the refrigerator. So, I stormed back into house. Mary was nowhere around. I grabbed my lunch and began heading out the door again when I heard a noise coming from the basement stairs. I opened the basement door and peered down into the murkiness. The light was off, and it was dark, but, through the gloom, I could make out Mary sitting on the bottom step. Her head was in her hands, and she was sobbing.

I stood there for a moment, frozen and dumbfounded. My words caused that? My words are that powerful? I looked down at the most wonderful person who had ever come into my life, the one who loved and accepted me the way that nobody had ever done before, and this is what I had done to her?

My chest got heavy and my eyes filled with tears. Look at this horrible thing that I had done!

I walked down the steps. When she heard me coming, she quickly wiped her eyes, stood up and turned to face me.

I dropped my lunch and hugged her as hard as I could. "I am SO SORRY!" I cried as I almost hugged the life out of her. "I promise that I will never, EVER do anything like that again!"

I remember that moment so vividly! I have purposely burned it into my brain so that I would never forget it. I remember thinking this is what your hurtful words and temper can do.

I’ve never done it again. Ever.
Oh, Mary and I have had our…discussions, and I’ve gotten angry, but I've NEVER done anything to purposely hurt her or any other person or thing again.
(Stay tuned. Much more to come.)