Controlling - Tumblr Posts
c)
“Who have you been hanging out with?”
d)
“I’m glad you haven’t completely lost your head.”
Stated after I mentioned I spent NYE watching HP with my mother, and far away from the types of things most people partake in - drinks, food, dancing, singing, midnight kisses, etc.
The ultimate.
He didn't think the way I masturbated was the right way to do it. He expected me to change my methods.
Step 1 in Isolation
Never trust a man who pressures you to drop your hobbies. While he should have been encouraging me to pursue my passions, he made it difficult to take part in anything that took me away from him and the duties he deemed mine.
This is probably one of the most embarrassing things I’ll ever post. This was My List that he gave me to complete in order for us to date again. Complete this, and I would be forgiven. I believed it too, and allowed myself to be tortured in the pursuit.
The Truth About Money
When I was running after him I was perpetually broke. I rarely spent a dime on myself, and if I did it was for him in a round about way (a personal trainer, aesthetics, etc). He blamed my inability to budget and poor spending habits.
About a year ago, I had an experience that first lifted the veil. If you are interested, you can read about it here. Shortly after that time I cracked down and prioritized saving; I prioritized it even over him because I had realized that I truly was alone.
That was the beginning of the end of his interest in me. After all, what good am I if I am not bankrolling his interests? He severed contact approximately three months ago. I wish I had done it, but unfortunately that wasn’t the way it went.
Since we’ve ceased speaking I have, in addition to saving more money than I have ever had for myself ever, paid off the remainder of my student debt, paid off my maxed out credit card, and taken 10% off what I owe on my line of credit. All the while having a modest social life.
I am not bad with money. He was bad with my money. He is bad.
He could not wash dishes. He'd get a rash on his hands ( possibly eczema or psoriasis). No solutions would placate him. He only ever had problems, never solutions.
Ruined Weekends
He often complained that I “robbed” him of his weekend when he kicked me out of the house. That was because he’d have thrown me out before I had the opportunity to do his dishes and clean his house. And he couldnt go out or do things if his house wasn’t clean.
My fault.
Well. That’s alarming.
He knows he's not blocked because he called me at 3 in the morning last night. I didn't pick up, but he'd notice that it didn't go straight to voicemail.
Reminder to self: turn your ringer off.
Yesterday
I saw a lawyer this week as he has been hoarding some things that are mine and he agreed to give me. There’s some money involved.
We had a separation agreement that I absolutely signed under duress. If I signed, he would work toward taking me back and my money wouldn’t be wasted. If I did not, he would sell the house for next to nothing, give me as little as he could (nothing if possible), ruin my reputation and disappear. Keep in mind this was at the beginning when I was inconsolable with guilt after what he’d caught me doing.
So he got everything. However we made an agreement on a few items, the ones he’s currently holding hostage.
The lawyer estimates my fight to cost thousands in legal and court fees - likely more than the value of the things. She also thinks my claim for the stuff is shaky at best in terms of the law as well. So I could spend a whole lot of money and still not have them in the end.
In short, I’m fucked.
Gaslighting - one from the vault - edited
I told him waaaaay back in our early days that I was attracted to women.
This was when we were teenagers and he managed to hang on to a group of friends - I suspect the copious amount of alcohol consumed among other mood enhancing essentials tended to keep things light and fun.
Within this group of friends were two women in a relationship together. Some time after I had told him about my attraction he pulled me aside.
He told me that he had overheard these two women talking and they thought I was good-looking. This didn’t really generate a reaction from me; they were in a relationship, I was in a separate relationship, and there wasn’t history, mutual attraction or chemistry. As far as I was concerned they were commenting on the drapes.
He rolled his eyes and spelled it out for me, because clearly I was too stupid to figure it out. He told me that they would probably proposition me and if I said no that they would attack me. Possibly even rape me.
I was shocked. And frightened. He told me most of the lesbians he knew were aggressive like this. He said that if they even suspected I was anything but straight, they’d never stop bothering me.
He knew these people better than I did, and as a teenager emerging from Catholic school I was not acquainted with many out lesbians to base my experience on. Plus he was my boyfriend, and was always looking out for my best interests. What reason did I have not to believe him?
Fourteen years later, I can tell you that this story is total bullshit. I doubt he even overhead them commenting on me.
They never ever gave me even an inkling that their interests were anything other than platonic, and we all spent a significant amount of time together. Furthermore I have heard nothing from any other source about them being aggressive, predatory, or violent.
And yet I was always on guard when they were around (which was frequently) because of what he’d told me.
WHY WOULD HE CONTINUE TO BRING ME TO THESE GATHERINGS IN THE FIRST PLACE IF HE THOUGHT THERE WAS A RISK THAT I MAY BE ASSAULTED?!
This event, ridiculous as it may sound, was a major player in the prolonged repression of my sexuality. And an excellent way to keep me off balance and uncomfortable in public, while simultaneously ruling out those he saw as his competition.
Three birds, one stone.
Two calls from him today.
Didn’t answer.
Say g’bye to sleep this week.
He contacted one of my friends today.
I haven’t gotten back to him about the tax document yet (yeah, I procrastinated/avoided/ whatever you want to call it). He messaged one of the few friends of mine that he was fairly well acquainted with.
She doesn’t know about the abuse. I really do adore her, but she lives out of town and talking about it never seemed like the right time. Plus, she’s a confident, successful, strong and I really admire her; I’ll admit that I can feel intimidated by her, and I’m not sure she’d understand.
Though I believe she understands him a little more after his escapade tonight.
Words matter to him. She told him that I wasn’t responding because this was a busy time of year for me and because I was “moving on.”
We all knew where this was going.
So, being reasonable, she told him to mail it to me. He responded that he’s going to drop it off. Can’t wait to see him at the door. :D
Did you know that he had the nerve to tell her that he was worried about me?
Please stop.
I haven't been mentioning it because I've just been hoping it goes away. Looks like it won't.
He's been calling me every day without fail. Often multiple times a day. Today it's hit a new level. He got a new phone number and he's sending me cryptic messages hoping i answer ( i run a small side business, strangers text me occasionally if a friend refers them).
I have not responded to him in 12 weeks. Not a call, not an email, not a text. I have never said "Don't call me", but I feel I've been clear. And I'm losing it every time he calls. This phone change is another escalation. Is he just going to keep doing this?
Before you ask, he's violent and he knows where I live. This may be a false sense of security, but keeping the communication open lets me keep a guage his level of rage.
I don't know what to do.
I don't want to jinx it but...
It's been 36 hours. No call. No text. No email.
Scraps
This has been sitting in my drafts for 4 months.
I was going to post it because it made me feel vindicated at the time. He would have just come home from a vacation with another woman. The one where I paid approximately 65% of the costs.
Clearly there was literally trouble in paradise, and the satisfaction that he was "gushing” about me and not her was immense. Something prevented me from hitting post on it though.
Fast forward through the subsequent months of bullshit I have endured and I can see through all the backhanded compliments.
He just wanted to soften me up enough to agree to come fuck and do his dishes.
During the first nine months of my therapy he controlled my sessions remotely. He told me what my issues were that week, I wrote it down in this book, discussed them with my therapist and wrote her responses as talking points. I then discussed with him.
Aside from being entirely ineffective as my actual issues were not being addressed, the discussion was always horrible - tense and fearful.
I rarely reiterated what my therapist actually said, because she realized, very quickly, what kind of person he was. She was very skilled at asking me questions in an attempt to wake me up without alienating me. Her focus was always on me.
I twisted her words when I spoke to him about it. Told him things he wanted to hear: that i was mixed up, and the decisions I made stemmed from a darkness inside me that had nothing to do with him. I told him how she advised me to fix myself, put him first in all things.
This was a lie. But it kept me alive.
If there was even a hint of something he didn’t like during my “session” he would threaten to pull me off of his benefits - which I got to keep for 9 months - the only thing i got out of our separation. He also accused me of painting him as the bad guy. This was always a dangerous time.
One time he wrote my therapist an email, saying he could not be a part of my mental health care anymore. I was mortified, because I had to explain to her what i had been doing.
She told me to continue to do so. Soon after she started to ask me about limits; what line would he have to cross? I really REALLY hated this line of questioning.
I can barely understand the nonsense he made me write above. It’s a sickening reminder of where my head was at.
It seems worlds away.
No Joy 2
He stole even the simplest joys. This is so trivial, but when I'm sitting in the passenger side of a car, I like to have my hand out of the window. The wind against my skin feels nice.
He often closed my window on me because he didn't like it. Claimed it blocked his rearview mirror on the passenger side.
In actuality it was because I enjoyed it. And he couldn't have that.
Reclaiming
I auditioned for a play on Saturday. If I am cast it will be my first time back on stage in almost 3 years.
Taking another one back.