I would love to get over it. Sign me up for that program. I was in therapy from 1994 to 2005, and I still make an occasional appointment when things are bad. If we were injured, like stabbed in a parking lot, and we had to have some kind of serious surgery, no one would even question it. If I was caught in a giant lawn mower and lost a leg, nobody would ask, "So what's with the crutches?"
But this--abuse is invisible. It damages our minds, trains our thinking, destroys our trust. They can't see the wound. I often wondered how differently people would act if I had even a scar across my face or something I could point to. "Oh, that, yeah, that was my dad's doing." Gasp. They'd fall over. But no, this invisible thing isn't obvious to them, so it shouldn't be obvious to us either, I guess.
I have a good wife. She was also abused, so she knows. But even so, she didn't want to see me hurt anymore. And from the outside, sometimes it seemed like I was going over the same memories again and again. It seemed to her that I was getting worse instead of better. But I explained to her it's like going in for cancer surgery. Maybe you can't see it, and maybe it seems like the treatments are making me worse, but the truth is I'm getting all that poison out of my body so I can live a more normal life. Every session left me with an emotional gaping hole in my chest, but after talking with a good therapist all those years and finding men here who feel the same things, I'm actually doing well. The dark days are fewer, and I'm finally having a sexual relationship with my wife without all the flashbacks and childlike feelings or fears. Life is better.
This whole thing is terribly hard on our loved ones, too, as they see us suffer. I wish you the best. Things will get better--maybe never perfect, but better. Hang in there. I hope your wife hangs in there, too.