Abuse and trauma survivor - these are my stories in no particular order. Content warnings and triggers everywhere. Adult blog; 18+ only.
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I Still Get Reclusive During This Time Of Year. Im Trying, But Im Not There Yet. At Least I Didnt Cower
I still get reclusive during this time of year. I’m trying, but I’m not there yet. At least I didn’t cower in the basement for hours.
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More Posts from Enoughdonegone
Some old habits die hard, but I'm not who I used to be.
“What would make someone want to stay in a relationship like that?”
It’s been two years tonight, as of this very moment. Two years since the first time I hated him for a minute.
It took the worst thing that ever happened to me to get me to even consider leaving. And it still took me a year.
"So are we going to do it today or what?"
He'd ask me at 10am and hold me to it in the evening. Not that it mattered. The answer was always 'yes' because it was not a good thing to say 'no'.
There are playful, sweet or smouldering ways to ask these things and keep a mood going all day.
This wasn't that. This was a contractual obligation. And it didn't matter what happened to me the rest of the day. If i wasn't ready when he decided it was time, there were consequences.
I curse him out aloud sometimes. From a memory or a feeling or just general unhappiness.
It's confusing for everyone.
How do I eliminate all thoughts of him?
I still think about him basically every time I get a quiet moment: in a fitting room, at a red light, in my office, in the shower.
Recovery is a bitch.
The woman I've had some successful dates with currently lives in a town adjacent to his home town. Upon fb investigation, some of her friends went to his highschool.
So I'm in a panic of course.
Im going through and blocking any fringe people who may make connections. I stumbled across his Dad's fb, and curiosity got the best of me.
There is a pic of him, his sisters and his dad at a hockey game. He has a beard now. It sort of suits him.
He looks happy. And I have that age old ache in me.
But then I remember that he's probably sitting there complaining about the cold, the food, and the crappy seats his parents made him pay for.
I look a little closer at his eyes and they look the same. He's the same.
I've just blocked his dad and I feel nothing.