Horrible Thoughts - Tumblr Posts

Uphill all the way

Sometimes I feel like he's right. That I'm crazy. That he is a good man who tried so hard to help me become a functioning adult. That I was just too fucked up to make him happy.

It's a funny thing to be trained not to trust yourself.

A special kind of heartbreak - the one who hurt me for years began seeing someone else. It makes me feel so flawed that I'm not even suited to be a punching bag.

Is this actually in my head?

There is a thrill and terror that courses through me when I think he may be watching me.

A swift breeze to my house of cards

He took the new one on what should have been our trip.

I won't ever be interested in going to St. Lucia now.

Full disclosure.

I cheated. Yes, I'm one of those horrible people.

And not just once. It was systematic. It spanned years, and with multiple people. I was trying to heal myself, give myself a moment of reprieve, find that light heartedness that makes life manageable.

What it actually did was cause further destruction to my self worth. And I handed him a weapon and an excuse that he used to torture me further for another two years.

My actions are inexcusable. I have no one to blame for them but myself. I have been wrought at the idea that I have inflicted pain. It is done and cannot be undone. I can only be better moving forward.

The last two years

He found out two years ago.

He told me that he uncovered my indiscretions by looking for the best way to propose to me.  A clearer head tells me that his reason for snooping might not be true, but there was evidence everywhere, really.  Facebook, phone, my journals, everywhere. A friend of my theorizes that this was my subconscious’ attempt to get myself out: a bread trail of evidence.   

The jury is still out, but regardless - he found out and it all came to a head in January 2016.  He kicked me out, and I was so ashamed. For what I had done, for hurting him so profoundly, and for disrespecting myself so.  I would do anything to make amends for what I had done. I would do anything for the chance of having him back.

So he used this to his advantage.

Since that time, my reality before was simply amplified. I was now fully prohibited from expressing any sort of dissent or disagreement.  The things that I thought were logical and sane were clearly not in line with how “normal people” and specifically “normal women” did. He was to be able to insult and shame me without rebuttal at any opportunity he felt appropriate. After all, I was now deserving of every slur and insult he wielded, unlike before where he’d feel obliged to buy dinner after being abominable.

I was  to drop everything and cater to his every whim, which was what he stated I should have been doing from the beginning.  He didn’t like that the activities that I enjoyed took me away from him, and made me neglect the duties he believed were mine.  The sleep that I required to maintain sanity was disregarded.  He continually told me “Oh, but you function really well without much sleep” as if living on 2 - 3 hours a night for months on end wouldn’t ultimately take a toll on any human being. I was not permitted to make mistakes - no dropping things, getting injured involuntarily, putting things away somewhere other than where he explicitly wanted them (without actually providing that direction - I should have just “known things”) or completing tasks in a sequence other than how he gave them to me.

Usually consequences ranged from being reamed out, to some sort of humiliation, to sending me home with the threat of replacing me with someone more “dedicated” as I was unworthy.  Often there was a physical threat, or some milder physical violence.  Other times it got scary.

And this has been my life for nearly two years.  Existing for him and only for him.  Compromising my health, safety and mental state for the glimmer of a hope that he might take me, unworthy as I am, back.  Trapped by my own guilt and used by a man who has hurt me more than I am yet willing to admit. 

#1 on the list

At this very moment one year ago, I was in labour.

On the evening of November 8 -9, 2016 he came in me without my permission. In his defense I believe it was an accident. I had, at that time, miscalculated my cycle, and thought I was not in a red zone. I was incorrect. Weeks later I felt a flutter, did the usual stuff to confirm, and found out for sure. Pregnant.

I already had the appointment booked when I told him; most of me knew this was the right decision, but a little part of me hoped he’d try to talk me out of it. In retrospect it was absolutely the right decision for several reasons and if I hadn’t had that appointment booked when I told him, I’m confident he would have punched me in the stomach.

He didn’t talk me out of it, and it was made clear to me that this was something I had to handle alone.  He came to the hospital with me for the preliminary appointment and thought he had done me a great service. He advised that I was not welcome at his (once our) home despite the fact that he had put me in the predicament. If I wanted him to join me, I would have to pay for a hotel.  As I was spending every dime I had at the time on him - feeding him, clothing him, entertaining him, I had my cards maxed and couldn’t afford it.  He was very charitable with his next option - he’d go to sleep, but he’d unblock me so I could call him and keep his phone on.

So I did it alone.

What I endured was a trauma I may never get over. Some women have unpleasant period sensations.  I went through 16 hours of labour mixed with a bad reaction to the medication.  Vomit, diarrhea, sweating, chills, shakes and delirium, all alone in my parents basement, trying to be quiet to not wake them in the very early morning of Christmas Eve.

I have plenty of terrible options to choose from, but this was hands down, the absolute worst, horrible thing that has ever happened to me. 

And he made me do it alone.  What kind of man would abandon a woman like that?

This was the first time the veil got pulled back for me and I saw a glimpse of clarity through the fog.  This was the first time I thought about my life critically in years. I thought about what I wanted in life and what I needed to get there.  I felt strong - such an unusual feeling - like I could endure anything.

And then I thought about what I didn’t want to endure anymore, and what I no longer needed in my life.  A whole bunch of uncomfortable questions emerged.

This was the first step back.

Contrast

I knew what was best for all involved when I found out, but a part of me wanted it to be different. 

He lost his mind. He. Lost. His. Mind. I mean, falling to the floor wailing and flailing.  It lasted nearly an hour.

Then he proceeded to bully me.  He told me that he and his mother would fight me for custody so they could put it up for adoption.  That I would be the unfittest of mothers - that I was so fucked up that he would call Children’s Aid to take them away. This was all after he was aware that I had an appointment.  He was just ensuring that I went to it, I suppose.

He didn’t understand my reaction when he told me some weeks later about his friend’s handling of his girlfriend’s unexpected pregnancy.  She was upset as money was tight and they weren’t in a great place for it at the time. Her partner’s reaction?  

“Babe, don’t worry.  We’ll handle it together;  we’ll make it work”   

Anthem

While working in the basement one day, I did something that upset him (likely the board I was holding wasn’t straight or flush enough for him, or something we screwed together wasn’t square).  He pushed me to the ground and I hit my head.

He stood over me, triumphant and imposing. I locked eyes with him for a moment, stunned.  Then he sang “Who runs the world” in a mocking voice; he sang Beyonce daring me to get up.