
Abuse and trauma survivor - these are my stories in no particular order. Content warnings and triggers everywhere. Adult blog; 18+ only.
794 posts
He Stole 13 Years From Me.
He stole 13 years from me.
That's more than 1/3 of my life; 36% to be exact. I'd have to be in my 130s for that to drop below 10%.
The math hurts.
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More Posts from Enoughdonegone
Being sick is an excuse: Episode 5.
Once I had a bronchial infection and I was coughing terribly. I couldn't sleep, my head was always pounding, and I wasn't eating much.
He insisted we have sex. I was literally having coughing fits as it happened. When he finished he said "Well that wasn't much fun" and then sent me to sleep on the couch so I wouldn't infect him.
Can you imagine?
Hindsight.
Weaponized incompetence my ass just weaponize it back. Once my dad tries to pull the “but I don’t know how to clean the counters as well as you” on my mom and she said “ok honey I’ll show you” and she made him stand in the kitchen and watch her clean the counters. Then she pulled out a bottle of chocolate syrup and proceeded to spray the entire kitchen in chocolate, hand him the sponge and said “okay now it’s your turn”
The worst is when he did it to my parents. I felt so bad for them and ashamed of him. I don't ever need to worry about that again, and that eases some stress during the holidays.
I hope you all find some peace tonight and throughout the year to come. You deserve it.
Joyless Giving
The holidays have some truly terrible memories for me, but every year was miserable with a person like him.
Giving him gifts filled me with such dread. He was so particular. If he didn’t like a gift, he’d tell you and he’d also berate you for being stupid. This wasn’t exclusive to me, but it was heightened to dangerous levels for me.
I would call him a spoiled brat if his hissy fits weren’t so terrifyingly violent.
Sometimes he was easy and said “This is what I want.” It may put me in debt, but at least I wasn’t going to be spit-screamed at.
Other years it was “buy me a new wardrobe” and refusing to answer follow up questions. I was panic-stricken; making the wrong decisions was Bad™, and with such vague instructions I was destined to mess something up.
I used to like giving gifts, but now I approach it with apprehension. He took the joy out of it.
He took the joy out of everything.
Here’s a fun tiktok about this very thing, if you haven’t seen it yet. Slaps a bit too. Click here!
He was the King of absolving himself of responsibilities by intentionally doing them badly.
He wanted me to serve all his food, even his seconds, so he would make an enormous mess serving himself. A mess I would have to clean. So I of course chose the route that was less work in the long run.
In early cohabitation days he went at something I had made so hard that food ended up on the ceiling. I have no idea how he did that trying to put food on a plate; I think he even impressed himself.
I can laugh now. He was a millwright with machining background and welding experience. He was so precise with the work he did, both with his tools and hands. Yet, he couldn’t figure out a spoon?
What a joke.
It's been a while, but my ads are at it again. Love that I get to read some traumatic shit set up to be sexy romance. That's not damaging tomy mental health in any way...
@staff ????
