Some Girls Have All The Luck.

Some girls have all the luck.

How ironic it is,

 They wished for my dismay 

And laid on me a curse 

But all I got was peace

I included the times he asked me sarcastically. You know, the days where he thought I may have had a day he would consider better than his.

I retrospect, even in the honeymoon stage, he was never too interested in finding out more about me.

Strange behaviour toward someone he professed to love.

Little things

You know, in the last 10 years I think I could count on one hand the number of times he asked me how my day was.

I had a flashback in the shower last night. I was able to tell her calmly that it was happening and she held me for a bit which seemed to help.

It was really manageable. Can't say they'll all be like that, but I call that progress.

The difference between me and fully functional adults is that when they make a mistake, they just move on. When I make a mistake, the world crashes around me, the air escapes my lungs and i simultaneously want to hide under my blankets and scream like a banshee out into the void.

I feel unlovable, incapable and inhuman. I want to claw my skin off and jam a stick through the part of my brain that remembers.

My woman has to spend an hour telling me I am still worthy of love and talks me down from running away.

My brain can't yet process that mistakes no longer equal humiliation and pain. And since I'm not getting the punishment on the outside my brain does it to me on the inside.

I need to quit my job.

He told me I was stupid. He told me that if I wanted to be a slut I should have at least charged for it. I could have made decent money and at least I'd be good for something.