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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Driving In A Snowstorm Last Night I Came To A Realization.
Driving in a snowstorm last night I came to a realization.
My sense of self preservation is returning.
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More Posts from Enoughdonegone
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.
Against some of my more rational thinking, i tried to see if I could find the woman on Facebook.
I think she has me blocked because I couldn't find her and I definitely found her before. Which means he would have asked her to block me. He must be afraid.
That gives me immense satisfaction.
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.
Hi brain, you obstinate fucker. I drank the clear splashy stuff. I ate the green things. I went under that bright fucker up there. I did the thing with the moving and sweating and whatnot. Now make the happy chemical, you lump of fuck.
I'm lying in bed next to my amazing woman, who, moments ago, i woke up so that she'd hold me while I sobbed. For no reason that I can confirm. I am calm now and I feel her drifting off next to me. It's peaceful.
I spent so many nights attempting to pace away my anxiety and dread in the basement alone. I didn't want the creaky floorboards in our old house to wake him.
Waking him was always bad. Especially if I was looking for comfort. His demons were to be soothed, attended and deferred to. Mine, likely only an excuse for my shortcomings, were mine. What business were they of his?