Hi and I understand both sides to your story. The emotional abuse, was simply being ignored as a child, I felt like the unchild, like the commerical the uncola.
But I have many vietnam veterans and completely understand your husband. My trauma was just about the same as his, and some aspects I had it alittle worse in my opinion.
I have known men who were the body bag men, I was the only person one had talk to in about 20 years. I took him to my house, and he let out all he harboured all those years.
How he dressed them as best as he could, because it was important to him that the parents got to see them as handsome as he could make them. But they came in to fast and he couldn't do the job he wanted. He would have to let some go that weren't finished and it killed him.
I let him talk and weap. He thanked me over and over. When we first met, however, he was as mean as an ornery bull. We cursed at each other, and one guy, a vet too, said leave him alone, he'd think nothing of stabbing you, and I replied, he can try, I have a knife too. I saw his pain.
So we had a screaming match for about 20 minutes, as the bar we were in either listened or went back to playing pool or throwing darts or picking each other up.
Finally he realized I did know from experience what he went thru and that I was not going to give him respect, if he did not give it to me.
Well I finally tired him out, when I saw my opportunity, I asked him if I could buy him a beer. He looked about as stunned as a hairdresser who has a bald customer.
I knew his pain, he was hiding from the world, and never let anyone in, (sounds exactly like me at fifteen.), so I knew from experience what he had gone thru.
We sat and chatted for a bit, he finally let his hair down and I received a most precious gift, a simple smile.
The guy who said he'd stabbed me, caught me before I went to the bathroom, he said that guy doesn't even let vets in, he was amazed that he was smiling and that he even bought me a beer.
He said he mostly came in, and wanted to be left alone, and that's what he did for twenty years.
I'm stubborn. I saw myself in him, a hurt person, who just needed a friend.
I understand where you are coming from as well. You walked into a war zone without knowing it.
You had your dreams, and they never came thru. He did not know what was happening to him. He may never.
Nam was no picnic and I am not taking sides, at all.
I just understand both sides.
I'm sorry you suffered for eight years, and yes, someone with ptsd can give it to another. Knowingly or unknowingly.
When I was four or five, I was handed a live grenade, I gave back the present to the person who handed it to me. Kaboom.
I have no regrets and love that memory, not often did I get to get even with my traumatizing people, I was small and they were very large in numbers.
I understand the getting even part.
I had a sarge who helped me get thru alot of bad memories, he told me when I was in a whirlwind of flashbacks, that someday I would get flashbacks that were good ones.
I didn't understand it til they came. Me getting revenge for what was being done to me and so so so many others.
Revenge comes in many different forms. Some are physical, and some are just thoughts.
Some are verbal. Some are emotional, llike yours.
Again, I am sorry for your eight years of complete and utter confusion. It must have been such a nightmare to have walked into without the knowledge of all the stuff that would soon come after the " I do's".
This site is so very helpful. You will find many who understand what you are going thru.