Late Night Realization

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.

One of the things that he has of mine is a cream and sugar set my parents got as a wedding present.

I'm so angry about it right now I can't sleep.

Post Script

Anger is a really nice welcome change from crushing nihilistic emptiness.

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.

I won’t say that I am ashamed that my heart strings still get pulled when I think of the things he suffered.  So much of what I’ve read makes me think that as a survivor I’m supposed to be as cold toward him as he was to me.

I can’t do that.  I loved this man, and the things that haunted him, haunted me.  And I can mourn for the life he may have had if things had been different.

The difference is, rereading these posts, my heart swells for him, but there is no longer the urge to run over and sweep him into a hug he’d probably reject. I won’t accept the shit he’s endured justifying what he did to me.  

That is progress.

Learned Behaviour

His dad was abusive. Violent. And his father before him.

Once he asked his dad for money for a field trip and his dad threw him into a wall so hard he went through the drywall and ended up in his sister’s closet.

He wasn’t born with these skills.

His mother told him when he was in highschool that regardless of what happened, she would always back her husband over him.

He wasn’t born cold.

I know exactly where he comes from.

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: