I Watched Something That Pulled On My Heart Strings Too Hard Earlier Today And I Can Feel Myself Sinking

I watched something that pulled on my heart strings too hard earlier today and I can feel myself sinking into a hole. So I'm attempting to cheer myself up by telling my lady as many dad jokes as I can get my hands on. Her groans from the other room are breathing life back into me.

Got any good ones?

Class

Abuse survivors become experts in damage control. I can handle a lot of tough, semi-humiliating situations with a cool head and a lot more grace and humour than I knew I was capable of. At least on the outside.

I guess people call that class. I called it survival.

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?

I think the abuse robbed me of my capacity for joy; that whole "in the moment" feeling everyone talks about.

It's conditioning from years in the cycle, where a happy few hours came to a screeching halt ( literally) due to some inconsequential blip, and days of misery would follow.

Beware the happy times - the worst ones come next. How do you relax and be present when that's been your programmed mantra?

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.

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.