Psychological Abuse - Tumblr Posts

I'm certain he has someone.

I wonder how much he uses his time with me to torture her.

I bet he's always suspicious and checking her phone, and tells her he can't help that he can't trust; his ex was such a whore.

I bet he screams and throws things at her when she brings up something he does that hurts or bothers her. He's sorry, but he can't help it; his ex was a bitch and she just said something like his ex would say.

I bet he calls her as stupid as his ex when she forgets something.

I bet he's hit her when something is out of place. His ex couldn't be trusted to be responsible or keep house properly, and he doesn't want to live with a pig again.

On the other hand, I'm sure he's told her that he was practically addicted to sex with his ex. It would just be a coincidence that he'd bring these things up when she's not in the mood or doesn't want to do a specific sex act.

I'm sure he's mentioned that his ex made great food when she's burned dinner or made something he didn't like. Or worse, when she didn't feel like cooking.

I'm sure that he's mentioned how dutiful his ex was with the housework when she wants to go do something fun or socialize.

I'm sure his ex's agreeableness (code for: door mat) has come up when she's feeling vulnerable and jealous about the strippers and other women he flirts with.

I'm sure I, his ex, am a very useful manipulation tool.

My parents moved closer to my old neighbourhood. I often have to drive by to visit them.

I still get chills and that heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach when i think that I might see him. Or worse, that he might see me.

Ghosts

Driving in our his neighbourhood this evening. That tightness in my chest returned.  I held my breath when I drove past our his road.  

The neighbourhood is haunted.  Cursed.

Missed Milestones

It may be a sign that I’m making progress, but I missed remembering some important milestones this year:

It’s been 210 weeks since I spoke my last words to him (that’s 4 full years and 2 weeks if you don’t want to count).

It’s been 314 weeks (6 years, 2 weeks) since I lived under the same roof as him.

I’ll be 36 this week.  And while my body is feeling its age (and more) at times, my mind feels younger than it ever did when I was in my 20s.

Phew!

When we were teenagers, our plan was to “leapfrog”.  He was going to make a certain amount of money, and then I would have to do whatever I could to find a job that made more money.  Then we would reverse and repeat.

I finished university in 2010.  The job market was BLEAK.  He worked in the trades, and I had a philosophy degree.  Naturally, I worked in retail, and made no where near what he did.  He continued to move up in his position, and so did I, but I could never catch him. Throughout the years, this was the number one excuse he used to harm me.

Things have improved since then, though I still don’t make as much money as he did.  Recently, I wondered what would have happened if I had “leapfrogged” like he’d wanted me to.  Then I remembered a story.

About 10-12 years ago I applied to work for the RCMP.

(Don’t judge me man, I was young and desperate. I also had some romantic notion that I could help SA survivors as a detective. Knowing what I know now about the institution, I am VERY glad it didn’t work out for me )

He was furious with me for applying; he said he hated cops, but I think he hated the idea of me having authority (and access to a weapon) more.

Then he let his plans slip.  He told me if I became an RCMP officer, he would wait until I made excellent money and then leave me.  Then he would cash in on the spousal support and take money from me forever.

So sorry that didn’t work out you, brah.  I hope the woman you’re with now leaves you and takes every cent you have.

I was not allowed to be better than him at anything. Except household tasks that he didn't want to do, of course.

I'll give you a silly example. I worked in service all the way through university and in my early 20s. I used a cash register often, and I got quick at counting money.

When we were doing our finances, sometimes we would pay cash for things.  He would lay money out on the floor like a child and count everything.  Then he would ask me to check his count.  I would flip through 20s in an 8th of the time it took him to count them.  I did this every day; of course I was fast at it.

The world ended if I found he had made a mistake, but he didn’t trust my counting at that speed, even when I confirmed his results. He made me count bills at the same speed he counted them.  My 4 year old cousin could keep up.

It sounds so silly, but he mocked my skills and capitalistic “worth” so often that not having his confidence in THIS, even, was frustrating and soul crushing.

The air around me is lighter without his presence.

Being sick is an Excuse: Episode Seven

I hurt my shoulder at the gym today. The pain is bad enough that I'm feeling nauseous.

My partner went to get me muscle relaxers, and I'm in the shower filled with doubt. Is the pain really that bad or am i making it up.

Imagine questioning the existence of your own pain while feeling pain.

If that doesn't sum up your brain after abuse I don't know what would.

Still finding new ones nearly 5 years later!

bitches hate when other people are in the kitchen because they’ve spent their entire lives being criticized for doing tasks imperfectly and having their eating habits policed and now have incredible anxiety about other people judging their cooking choices that can’t be easily explained in a few words as to why they’re acting so hostile about someone else being near them during this very vulnerable process. it’s me, i’m bitches

Second Hand Anxiety

My partner has an interview today. I am LOSING MY FUCKING MIND about it. I feel like if she doesn't get the job it will be because I failed her.

Not sure if I just want her to get the job she really wants because it would make her happy and improve her quality of life. Or maybe it's because he blamed me for anything in his life that did not go his way.

"If you would have fucking slept on the couch so I could actually sleep...."

"They asked questions that weren't on the list you gave me. Thanks for fucking this up for me..."

"I don't fucking care if you don't know anything about machining. I told you to take notes for me to study for my trades exam. These notes are shit. It's like you're not even trying...."

Still figuring it out. I'll think about it while I go vomit. Stay tuned!

Still trying to figure out how to go out and be social without feeling like I've taken up too much space/said the wrong thing.

I'm in my fucking 30s. Sorry to anyone who thought it would just go away...

I just tested positive for covid on Tuesday. I'm quadruple vaxxed, with a decent immune system, so I'm rapidly on the mend. But, objectively, it has sucked.

You know what hasn't sucked? Sharing a home with someone who cares for me and wants me to get better. And living with someone like that may never cease to amaze me.

My plans changed bc I met my partner, and I've no regrets because she and our life together are amazing

But what a peaceful life this would have been if I 'had to' be on my own.

Living Alone by Yaoyao Ma Van As.

Someone should address the people who say hateful things and make cartoonishly bad arguments. But I'm not that someone.

There are professionals and people much smarter than me to take out that trash.

I lived with an abuser for a decade; I recognize manipulation and when someone isn't arguing in good faith.

They use the same tactics. So I'll deal with them the way I dealt with the abuser.

A question for the abuse survivors, did you lose the ability to recognize when you're happy? I feel like someone took an eraser to my amygdala.

Did you get yours back?

My partner is brushing her teeth before bed and clearly watching something very funny because all I can hear is her giggling from the other room.

My heart is so full and I'm crying.

I couldn't have imagined such a simple pleasant home some years ago.

Trauma symptom: rushing in the bathroom.

It's been a while since I've had jarring ptsd symptoms, but yesterday I did get a feeling while I was using the restroom : Hurry! Before he realizes you're in here!

I've learned to get myself through these, so I'm fine. But oof.

Best to do the scary things at a bit of a run..

Unlearning

I was driving around seeing clients yesterday for about 6 hours. I'd only had a bagel for breakfast and it was nearing 6pm. I was pretty hungry.

I stopped for food, and I felt really bad about it. I confessed to my partner that I'd stopped, expecting her to agree with my assessment that it was financially irresponsible.

She didn't. Naturally. Because eating is not a luxury, and it's worth the $17.

I'd imagine he would deny doing anything to me at all.

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. 

Therapy has been really huge for me. I don't want to understate that.

But i have been reading fanfic a lot lately, some of it dark, some deranged, some dirty, some all 3. It has been so cathartic to find people who put on 'paper' the ugliest bits of myself.

There's people out there that are going scream something about promoting problematic shit, but fuck you. Sonething something Nuance. Something something fiction.

It's not for you. There's tags. Read em. Move on. Let us broken babies wallow in the filth.

Seriously, if you write fanfic, you could very well be pulling someone from a ledge. Love you.