I was married to someone like this—a relationship on shifting sand. Indeed, as with your client, I saw instances when we were courting and excusing them to give her the benefit of the doubt. My family and good friends warned me that things seemed strange with her and that perhaps I should take it slowly and not get married. I was young and felt entitled enough to make my own decisions. Three children in, I knew I had to get a divorce, or I would soon die—walking on eggshells and all!

In her household growing up, her parents showed open enmity between each other. They slept in different rooms, insulted each other as a matter of routine, and worked against each other. The husband sought comfort in other women's arms and the mother in her children's. I saw all of this during dating, and it never clicked. Later, this bothered me on why I would see everything so blatant and not be alarmed to the point of breaking off the relationship and running. Was I scared of leaving even then?

I stayed for many years after realizing divorce was imminent, I told myself it was for the kids' sake, but partly in the hope that things would turn around. It never did. Yet shame for all the warnings I got and ignored plagued me. I had cut ties with some family members she disliked because they saw her, feared for me, and expressed that openly. My actions then, I told myself, were for peace's sake. I wanted to leave. She sensed I was on my way out and threatened me more often using the 3 things I cared about as her waving gun—the children.

My first visit to a lawyer led to the lawyer asking me to go to counseling before I pulled the trigger. She, the lawyer, had gone through a nasty divorce herself and wanted to spare us the family disaster. The Counselor said I was the stable and happy one to keep the kids stable. I remember the sinking feeling I got that day. That responsibility weighed on me for years, enough time to produce our last child. People who say that children come from love have no clue about biology, or they overestimate how long that love lasts!

Finally, the inevitability came. Career and immigration changes in my life gave me an opportunity. I pulled the trigger. I tried before and that well-meaning lawyer got in the way. This time, my new lawyer got it after I explained what was happening—emotional immaturity and all its symptoms. When the Process Server served my now ex-wife with divorce papers, she attacked the Server, leaving scratches on the woman's arm and face. The bailiff later called me and my lawyer to say I probably dodged a bullet. I felt ashamed but grateful!

The result is as my ex-wife promised. While we were together, she always promised that she would ensure the children were estranged from me if I left her. She has partly succeeded. The eldest still talks to me, but not to her mother anymore. The other two are now living on the eggshells mentioned earlier. Them calling me or mentioning my name would leave the house as if struck by an emotional scud missile, leaving unending weeks of hellfire torment.

They told me for peace's sake, they prefer to keep communication with me at a minimum because she is too volatile and they need peace. I get it, I have been there, so I can't argue with them despite how much I miss and love them. I sometimes break protocol and try to communicate, which gets them in trouble. She only communicates with vitriol-filled emails if she needs money, never fulfilling her part of the deal with visitation rights. She is in another country where the US courts have no jurisdiction. I send money. She forbids them to see or talk to me.

I was discussing this with the eldest the other day. She shows much more signs of emotional maturity as she grows older than her mother. She is only 25! She said, she knows I miss and love the other two, but I have no choice but to wait until they age out and decide to leave. They are wonderful people, level-headed but fragile after spending time in a house with someone with clear mental health issues. I will only have to help them heal as adults if they let me. My story continues as I wait for them to age out, trying minimally to be part of their lives in a way that does not upset their apple cart.

So, the moral of this story is to listen to the people outside of your relationship who tell you about the warning signs. Listen to your instincts. And if you did not, don't be so afraid that you never cut ties.

Thanks for your article.