I've Been Reblogging Too Much Lately But This Is A Good One.

I've been reblogging too much lately but this is a good one.

I saw this on facebook and honestly yeah

Why did I cheat?  

I cheated to feel a private victory over him. I didn’t want to actually hurt him; he wasn’t ever supposed to ever find out.  It was my secret; just my little reminder that not everyone shared his opinion of me.  Even if that was just because they didn’t know me well enough to see all my ugly bits as he did.

I cheated to feel better about myself. They told me I was irresistible, funny, and interesting. That he was a fool for neglecting me. They flattered me to get what they wanted. I knew that, but pretended like they were pining for the woman they couldn't actually have. It inflated me temporarily, which was enough some days to prevent me from killing myself.

I cheated to distract myself and have something to look forward to. My meets ups were never near as exciting as the planning and build up. A little adrenaline to supplement the cortisol. Good substitute for the old s and d, right? Right.

I cheated to detach myself further.  Meaningless sex made me colder, cynical, unfeeling. Heartless. You would be amazed what you can endure when nothing matters.

I cheated to survive. That's not an excuse. That is a statement.

Speaking of cutting it off...

The man I was referring to in my second to last post was insufferable in general.  However the last part was particularly triggering with the “cutting it off” thing

One time, he went into the bathroom with two knives after threatening to cut his penis off.  

You see, in the correspondence he read between me and the men I cheated with, I "got back” at him by saying rude things about him.  I was angry, hurt, feeling helpless, and I got some juvenile satisfaction out of trashing his “manhood”.  I said he was small and that he didn’t satisfy me.  In reality, he was quite average and he didn’t satisfy me, but that had nothing to do with his hardware.

I felt I was the cause of all this distress (and he, of course, reinforced this later).  He’d also threatened to kill himself.  What I didn’t seem to qualify is that he’d also threatened to maim and kill me that day.

Even knowing he could turn those knives on me, and that I would be in close quarters with someone who was in the mindset of cutting off a part of his body, I ran into that room screaming.  I think I slipped and fell on the way in, but I managed to get in before he could block me out.

I talked him into handing the knives over to me, but only after being berated for screaming (didn’t I know the neighbours might hear?), and threatened to be gutted a few times -  verbally and with violent, threatening gestures.

Remembering this has made my whole body shudder and quake.  I wonder at my luck, sometimes; how on earth did I survive this man?

.

It kinda hit in an instant.

When you finally start getting angry about what happened to you

stop giving men so many allowances. if he’s cheating on his girlfriend w you and promising time after time that he’ll end it one day, he doesn’t respect you. if he likes you and another girl but can’t decide who he wants and he’s stringing you both along, he doesn’t value you. if you’re giving him orgasms day after day and he doesn’t attempt to return even half the favor, he’s wasting your time. it’s such a red flag when you talk to your friends about someone and have to explain their behavior w excuses. sometimes things really are as simple as they seem. if from the outside it looks like he doesn’t care, then he doesn’t care

I've been co-authored without my consent.

Two of the symptoms of ptsd and cptsd that have been the hardest to swallow are the lack of focus and the inability to "get into" or enjoy anything.

I was once an avid reader; I'd polish off a book a day if I could. Now it's a struggle to get through a chapter or two.

He has changed the very fabric of who I am.