A Friend Of Mine Saw Him At The Grocery Store. That Feeling In My Chest Is Back, And All She Did Was

A friend of mine saw him at the grocery store. That feeling in my chest is back, and all she did was tell me about it.

He was with a woman; we think it's the same woman he took on what was supposed to be our vacation ( the one I predominantly paid for). That means she's been around for a little more than two years.

I am really struggling right now with guilt. She's probably seen him for what he is by now. And I'm sorry for that. What if I had had a spine back then and told her. Does she need help now?

I feel I should reach out.

Driving in a snowstorm last night I came to a realization.

My sense of self preservation is returning.

This is the reminder card for my follow up appointment after my abortion. I've kept it since receiving it in the last few days of 2016. My woman asked why I've kept so many things that hurt and remind me of terrible times.

These scraps corroborate my story. If I don't keep them, the terrible things that have happened to me just become a figment of my imagination; another false excuse as to why I'm not a better adjusted Adult.

Furthermore, and probably the darker side of my trauma response, I've felt I deserve the misery these memories stir up. Comfort is not something I'm entitled to given my sins and finding reminders of that is part of how I can atone. Real pain is penance after all.

I told her. She said all of the right things. The kind, supportive words we all allow to bounce off of us; so unlike the things he would have said, which I would have allowed to soak into my core.

But I will try a little harder, and today I shredded this damn thing.

If I made it twice a month I "never" made it. If I made it three times a month I "always" made it. I ruined his favourite dishes by making them too often. But I also never made them enough.

My head was always spinning.

Food was always a Thing

He'd tell me he was bored with the food I made so I'd find a new recipe. He would criticise everything about it, say it looked disgusting and ask why I was so stupid.

So he'd give me one to try, I'd make it and he'd love it. If I made it again, it was never as good as the first time. If I made it again he hated it. If I never made it again he would tell me that he loved it and I was withholding it because I was lazy/a cunt.

This is a busy time of year for me and I'm getting overwhelmed. That means there's a melt down on the horizon.

See you all soon.

2020

Sorry for my absence. The holidays have some traumatic landmark memories for me, and I did my best to avoid all things that trigger.

Overall, I was successful. And my woman is doing her best to help me make some happier memory associations. She got me an xmas tree this year and a whole bunch of lights and ornaments.

I would say that I am cautiously looking forward to next year. At least the decorating part. I guess we can call that progress.