Approximately 24 Hours Out From Discovery And I Can Talk About It A Little. There Were Two Things I Felt

Approximately 24 hours out from discovery and I can talk about it a little. There were two things I felt in particular that I was ashamed of:

Jealousy - this lasted for no more than 5 seconds, but it was still the first one I felt. Can you really hate someone if you're jealous of the person they're with, however fleeting that emotion is?

Doubt in my own experience - it hits so subtly, but like a freight train at the same time. If she likes him and wants to marry him, he can't be that bad, right? Was everything I felt and experienced real? Or was it al in my head? Did I invent it all to justify being a bad person?

It's been seven years, and I still don't trust my own brain.

He's getting married to someone I am about 3 or 4 degrees of separation from (depending on your definition).

It's not a full spiral, but there's definitely some things I need to talk to my therapist about. Some emotions that ranged from mild and controlled to shameful.

But generally, I think I'm doing ok. I'm currently eating my feelings at nearly 3am, but I've had worse nights.

In the early stages of healing I used to trauma dump.

It was fucking WILD the shit that would tumble out of my mouth to people I barely knew. To combat it, I put a vice grip on it. I under shared to try to curb the habit.

It worked. Too well. And it appears to be permanent.

I have no idea how to share about my life now. This was a message I sent to my very best friends:

I haven't followed up.

Pick Me Up Idea

Disclaimer: This only works if you're of a certain age.

Go into that old folder that has all of the music you downloaded. You know, the one you haven't looked at in at least 10 years.

Peruse. Listen to some select pieces. Remind yourself that you had good taste. Or something close.

Remind yourself of those days you used to dance around like a fool. Before they crushed the passion out of you. Before your interests turned to haze.

Be prepared for the memories; some good, some miserable, some a mix.

Also, be prepared to dance around like a fool again.

When he did something that profoundly upset me, he'd know, and he would force me to come to bed. Usually he'd have sex with me, and I'd lay there.

I would lay there, seething, until I knew he was asleep. Then I'd slip out of bed and go to sleep on the couch in the basement.

Only then I'd exhale. I'd message someone I wasn't supposed to. I'd stretch out and release my muscles. I'd masturbate to a fantasy in my head that didn't include him. I would feel safe knowing I'd hear the floorboards creek if he got up.

It was a false sense of security, but it was a breath that kept me from drowning.

I don't know if this was the direction you were going OP, but you've triggered a memory and I'm hijacking your post. Sorry.

If I didn't cook, he didn't eat. Period.

After he kicked me out, I was still under his spell for nearly 2 years. During this time, he did his best to mistreat and torture me, more than previously. One of his tactics was trying to find a new victim partner. I sort of got to 'watch' their relationship develop in real time. At least from his perspective.

I saw the moment he decided to allow things to go downhill with one woman. She cooked for him, and apparently was very proud of what she made, her 'signature.' He didn't like it, said it was bland and uninspired.

So he fucked me when he knew she'd be stopping by. Then, he pretended like it was my fault because I was too noisy, or because I was near a window and she saw me in the house, or whatever logical gymnastics he wanted to perform that day.

Afterward he said it was for the best because she was 'unreasonable'. But I know it was because he didn't like her cooking.

If she didn't cook something he liked, he wouldn't eat. Period.

I'm curious. Reblog this if you know how to cook

I don’t even care if it’s macaroni, ramen or those little bowls you stick in the microwave. Please, I need reassurance that most of the population on tumblr WOULDN’T STARVE TO DEATH if their parents couldn’t fix them food or they couldn’t go out to eat.