Marriage or Prison?

They say “for better or worse,” but I never imagined “worse” would look like this. My husband’s accident has turned our lives upside down, leaving his with a traumatic brain injury or TBI, and me torn between my love for the man he used to be and the daily chaos of who he’s become. It’s a story I never thought I’d have to tell—and one I’m still struggling to make sense of, I struggle to determine whether this is a marriage or a prison.

A Love Story Interrupted

Before my husband’s accident, he was the kind of partner who always had a twinkle in his eye, shared jokes, and supported me wholeheartedly. I run a cooking show on Facebook, complete with a blog where I share recipes, kitchen tips, and fun stories from my life. He was my biggest cheerleader, often giving inspiration for new recipes and encouraging me to grow my online presence.

But everything changed after his TBI. Anger, impulsivity, and vindictive behavior seemed to become the norm. He made decisions that felt aimed at hurting me, but in reality, they just hurt both of us. It’s hard to reconcile these two versions of the same person—one so loving, the other so full of rage.

Life Under Strain

Over time, our household became a battlefield of misunderstandings and constant tension. We ended up with a strict arrangement to avoid being under the same roof at the same time. If you’ve ever gone through a complex court situation with someone you love, you’ll understand how surreal and heartbreaking it can feel.

Despite the heartbreaking changes, part of me still hopes the real him—my best friend and longtime partner—will re-emerge. We even tried one session of couples therapy, but finances became a huge hurdle. Worker’s comp approved the therapy, but finding a provider who accepts it has proved challenging. Meanwhile, our relationship continues in this awkward, painful limbo.

The Day I Went to Jail

One fateful day, it was “my turn” to leave the house. I left as planned, only to learn later that my beloved dogs had been let out into the street. Panicked, I rushed back toward home, terrified that they’d get hit by a car. On arrival, I could see them darting around the road, narrowly avoiding a collision. I managed to coax them into my vehicle to keep them safe—but my husband was ready with his phone, recording my every move.

Those few moments in the driveway—captured on camera—led to accusations that I was violating our court arrangement. Within days, I found myself facing an arrest warrant. I turned myself in on a Wednesday morning, spent about six hours in jail, and was released on bail thanks to a quick intervention by my attorney. If it sounds like a nightmare, that’s because it was. I never imagined the man I love would be so desperate to try to hurt me, that he would stoop to this level—yet I also know a brain injury can drive one to decisions that are hurtful and irrational.  Still, I could not imagine the man who loved me for all these years would be capable of sending his wife to jail.

Aftermath and Emotions

I wish I could say I’ve found easy answers to why this happened—or how to forgive. Part of me understands that his TBI may be the primary reason for his anger and impulsivity. Another part of me screams, “But this is the person who vowed to love and protect me—how could he do this?”

Jail was humiliating and scary, but also eye-opening. I learned a few things, like how to make homemade tampons and how to weave hair, but I also saw how broken the system can be and how stressful life is for the people behind those bars. It was a harsh reminder that anyone’s life can unravel in an instant, and that mine was among them. 

Trying to Keep the Dream Alive

Amid the chaos, I continue my cooking show and blog. Pouring my energy into recipes, engaging with my online community, and experimenting with new dishes helps me find a sense of normalcy. It also reminds me that I’ve worked too hard to abandon my dreams and passion—no matter the pressure to get a “regular job” or walk away from my creative pursuits.

We still share a home in the sense that neither of us will leave. I hold onto flickers of hope that therapy and medical tweaks might rein in his anger. On the tough days, I remind myself that I’m worthy of safety, respect, and love—and that I can’t keep letting guilt or “what ifs” trap me in a dangerous cycle.

Looking for Resources

If I knew of a magical resource that could guide me—and others facing this kind of pain—I’d share it in a heartbeat. But the truth is, I’m still searching. Support in these situations seems fragmented, and it’s difficult to know where to turn, especially when finances and insurance become obstacles.

I will say this: if you’re in a similar situation, whether your loved one has a TBI or some other condition that affects behavior, don’t be afraid to reach out to national hotlines, mental health organizations, or even online support groups. You might not find a perfect fix, but sometimes just knowing others understand can bring a bit of solace.

Where Do I Go From Here?

Right now, I’m taking it day by day, trusting that clarity will come when the time is right. Maybe I’ll find a therapy option that works; maybe new meds or more detailed guidance from specialists will help my husband. Or maybe one day I’ll have to walk away to preserve my own well-being. I’m not certain.

What I do know is that my love for him was—and is—very real. But so is the pain and fear. Balancing those truths might be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.  In the meantime, I try to remember these things:

• Your Emotions Are Valid
  I have been trying to keep my heart open while facing some very real betrayals and difficulties. Feeling angry, confused, sad, and frustrated all at once is scary. I realize I can still love him deeply and simultaneously recognize the ways in which his behavior isn’t acceptable.
• My Inner Conflict Makes Sense
  On one hand, I see glimpses of the person I fell in love with; on the other, his actions can be terrifying, cruel, and manipulative. Of course it’s confusing. Of course I’m not sure what to do next. It’s very human to hope for the best and worry about giving up on someone you love, especially when that person has a medical condition that complicates everything.
• Safety and Boundaries
  Any time anger and impulsivity lead to unsafe or manipulative situations, I try to remember that my well-being comes first.  This is incredibly difficult for me as I have tend to be the care giver for everyone else around here.  But I deserve to feel safe—not just physically but emotionally too. Setting clear boundaries, and sticking to them when I can, helps me feel a sense of security.
•  Forgiveness Isn’t Always Immediate
  Forgiveness doesn’t happen just because we intellectually understand why someone acts a certain way. Even if part of his behavior is linked to a medical condition (TBI), it doesn’t automatically erase the hurt or trauma he’s caused me. Sometimes forgiveness is more about self-healing—deciding what you need to move forward without letting resentment consume you. I don’t have to force myself to forgive on anyone else’s timeline.  I plan on doing this on my own time. 

• Professional Help
  I am hopeful it might be helpful to speak with a therapist or counselor—someone trained in issues surrounding TBI, trauma, and relationship dynamics. Having a supportive professional listen to the complex details of my life may bring clarity I might not gain on my own, especially in the thick of such an emotionally charged situation.  With cost and accessibility being an issue, I rely on my faith that God will provide the right person for this task.
• Support System
  Luckily, I have great friends and people I can trust. I am not shouldering this alone as they stand behind me in comradery and support. I have friends who care—enough to let me stay with them or to call me about the dogs. They seem eager to help where they can.  Sometimes the smallest acts of support can make a big difference in how I cope day to day.

• Listening to Your Inner Voice I am waiting for peace that only God can give, and I trust I will know when it’s time to make a decision. This is a deeply personal and spiritual journey, and I continue to pray to keep me connected to God for guidance. All the while taking small steps to care for myself and protect my emotional well-being. My internal compass—my instincts—often have a way of nudging me when something is or isn’t right.

Final Thoughts

If you’ve read this far, thank you for holding space for my story. Life doesn’t always fit neatly into “happy ever after,” especially when medical trauma is involved. I share this not to shame my husband or paint myself as a victim, but to shine a light on the messy reality of caring for someone who has changed in ways neither of you ever anticipated.

In the meantime, I’ll keep stirring up something special in the kitchen—and clinging to the hope that tomorrow might bring a better day or a decision as to whether this really is a marriage or a prison.