Enoughdonegone - It's Not Fine.

I know we’re supposed to avoid harbouring sympathy for our abusers, but goddam it, he didn’t stand a chance.  

Is it any wonder?

TW - self harm

When he was in his early teens, he confessed to his parents that he had urges to hurt himself.  He wanted to take one of his hunting knives and plunge it into his gut.

I’m not a mother, so maybe I don’t know, but if my kid came up to me and told me he was having a hard time not gutting himself, I’m pretty sure we’d be dropping everything and going to the hospital to get some professional help.

They took away his hunting knives.  That’s it.

Late Night Realization

I didn’t want to buy a house yet, and he was so angry.  He threatened to leave me.  He told me that I was keeping him down, and that I loved watching him suffer.

My reluctance was my subconscious throwing up warning signs: Get out!  Don’t invest financially in this this too!

His threats won, my subconscious lost, and he and I started “living the dream.”

After my indiscretions came to light, he told me that he pursued other options when I showed resistance and had been carrying on periodic dalliances online  since then. Though nothing as serious as what I did, of course as he wasn’t that sick. They provided emotional ‘support’ when I was ‘hurting’ him.

He never met up with any of them, so he says, despite having plenty of opportunities. Realistically it doesn’t matter now, and I don’t care if he did.

What stings is that I allowed him to hold me under his thumb and torture me as punishment for my own infidelity.  And he was out there likely doing the same thing, or something in the same vein at the very least .  

It doesn’t justify what I did, but it does render his disdain and condemnation illegitimate.

This has all just sunk in tonight.  If I had any guilt or shame left for what I’ve done, it’s fucking gone now.

I got cast!

Reclaiming

I auditioned for a play on Saturday. If I am cast it will be my first time back on stage in almost 3 years.

Taking another one back.

In unrelated news:

Not to be That Person(TM) posting remarks about weather on your dash but there’s been a surge of climate change posts on mine.  And not to trivialize the seriousness of those with my anecdotal shitpost but goddamit it’s October and I live in CANADA:

The Twelfth

For about three years we lived on a county road.  Our home was a detached “mother-in-law” suite on the property of a woman who really didn’t know how to maintain property.  

We had countless issues that never got resolved: the hot water heater purged itself onto the floor semi-regularly, the heat would suddenly and unexpectedly cease causing our pipes to freeze, the ceiling had holes in it that were supposed to be fixed before we moved in (hah) and we had a mouse problem like you’ve never seen.

He got me in the habit of romanticizing living in the middle of no where.  Parts of it I really did enjoy; I used to love running out there at night.  It was also quiet at night and dark, plus I could lay out on the back porch naked and no one was the wiser. 

But some of the very worst moments of my life are out there.

All those issues I listed above became the list of grievances he had against me.  We had to deal with these problems because I still wasn’t making enough money, and that was because I was a lazy stupid cunt with no ambition and no respect for him and how hard he had to work.

He screamed at me so hard some times that he gave himself a nose bleed.  I didn’t even know that was possible. The physical abuse really gained a foothold here, too.  

Which made sense.  There were fewer neighbours to hear me crying.