Gaslighting - One From The Vault - Edited

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.

Landscaping

If you continue to read below you will hear more about my personal hygiene than you signed up for.  You’ve been warned.

I confessed this story to someone and their “WTF?!” reaction prompted me to post.

I used to shave my pubic hair.   All of it.  It was the only way he liked it. For those of you who’ve never done it before, or don’t have a vulva you’ll just have to trust that it is a seriously tedious and arduous task. 

Sometimes I wouldn’t be prompt with my upkeep.  It was such a pain, and there were so many things in my day that I had to do. There were constant complaints from him about how women find them selves good men, settle down and just let themselves go.  Then they wonder why their husbands cheat on them.

So one day I guess he just got so frustrated with me dropping the ball that he was going to take matters into his own hands.  Literally.

I was showering and he came in the room ( I curse EVERY bathroom lock we ever had for PURE INEFFECTIVENESS).  Without asking, he got in the shower with me and grabbed my razor.

He started shaving me.  I’ll admit I did not protest too much, but I was obviously uncomfortable.  That progressed shortly to physical manifestations of panic, fear and anxiety: dizziness, nausea, difficulty breathing, chills (while in a hot shower no less), but I managed to hold back tears.

He got angry with me for shaking and losing my balance and went on a rant.  I had once again ruined what could have been a sweet and sexy moment.

Apparently I don’t know how to keep my cool with a razor-blade centimetres from my clitoris when it is in the hands of someone prone to outbursts and no idea what he’s doing.

When he got out and stomped off in a rage, I let the tears flow silently.

I took it off tonight.  

Rings and seemingly insignificant things

I still wear a ring he gave me in the early years of our relationship.  I used to look at it as a testament to my commitment to him.  Now it’s a placeholder until I can find something more suitable; I’m not ready to go naked just yet.

I’ve switched hands at least.

Everyday.

An Ode to Truth - the missing piece of my heart.

One of the most horrible things he ever made me do was excommunicate one of my nearest and dearest friends.  I love her, and considered her one of my soul sisters. I feel ashamed of a great many things; this may be the top as I have not yet been able to even discuss it with my other friends.

The story that I have available to me is this:

In June of 2016, she asked me point blank if he’d ever hit me.  In a moment of clarity, mania, whatever you want to call it, I was honest.  After all, he kept telling me over and over I should always be honest.

In a moment of stupidity, I told him that I had told her.  I don’t completely remember what he said to me at this time as my brain fogged it up and I no longer have that phone to review the texts.

The gist was that I was a stupid cunt who was trying to shift the blame for my actions to him and that I had just sealed my coffin shut.  He told me that he called her ( and I have no confirmation that this is true) during which time he says she was rude to him (something along the lines of “Don’t call me!  Don’t ever fucking call me!”) and that this was my problem to fix.

Why was I  continuing to smear his reputation and make him look like the bad guy?  What was so wrong with my brain that I could not take responsibility for my actions? The usual chorus of I’m useless, slutty, stupid, etc ensued… You get the picture.  

He insisted that I recant.  I asked him how this fit into being honest all the time.  Exasperated he told me there are certain things you just don’t say; that this would be something we could fix after I had made myself into a “normal” human being.  

I tried to recant.  She,  being a reasonable human being, would not accept the alternative version of events I presented.  Nor the excuses I provided for him. Nor my demand that she support me in my decision to be with him.  She is a bold, brave, headstrong and fierce woman - I have always admired these qualities in her.

Knowing this, he said I had only 1 option:  He called her a bitch.  He told me her boyfriend would eventually leave her and cheat on her because she is unreasonable.  She was going to kill everything around her with her toxicity.

What he meant was that she was dangerous to his position as my lord and master because he could not bend her to his will.

So.  Months later, MONTHS later (November, as a matter of record) after he’d harassed me about it incessantly and told me the my dallying was evidence that I didn’t love him, I sent her a horrible email.

In it, I accuse her of not being supportive or having my interests at heart.  I tell her that anyone who does not accept him, doesn’t accept me, and that I could not call her my friend anymore.  I am accusing and defensive and abusive.  I’m fucking awful.

I wanted to die when I sent that email. Yet I sent it anyways. She never responded.  Who could blame her.

I miss her.  And while I think there are a number of relationships that can be repaired, I don’t think I could ever really make this one right again.

I’m at a bit of a loss for what to do.

For Canadian income tax preparation you are issued a document from each of your employers called a T4.  This document summarizes your income from that employer for the year, plus other things like your employer and government pension contributions, gov’t benefit deductions, income tax paid to date, etc.

One of my (past) employers last year, despite multiple emails, failed to change my home address.  So, guess where the damn thing went. 

Good news:  I don’t need this thing - employers not only have to send it to their employees, they have to send a copy to Canada Revenue which makes all your tax documents available to you online.

Bad news:  This document has lots of juicy personal information that identity thefts just love like my social insurance number (My gov’t issued ID number) and full name. Safe to say in someone’s vindictive hands, this document can cause me some serious headaches down the road.

I’m sure he feels he has me by the proverbial balls, here.  What a perfect way to force me to speak to him.  Here are my options so far as I can see:

1. Not respond: Run the risk of him posing my info on the likes of reddit or 4chan. 

2. Respond by email: Ask him to shred it.  Run the risk of him not doing so and posting my info on the likes of reddit or 4chan anyway. Also spark correspondence back and forth that could could and likely would turn ugly. 

3. Respond by email: Ask him to return to sender which would allow me to confirm with my previous employer that the document was returned unopened. Run the risk of him not doing so and posting my info on the likes of reddit or 4chan anyway. Also spark correspondence back and forth that could and likely would turn ugly.

4. Respond by email: Force a family member to speak to him and pick up the document.  Oh man, I can just see the walls of text I’d receive after that “humiliation”...

5. Respond by email:  Set up a time to pick up said document from him myself.  Possible scene. Possible assault.  Possible murder.  Likely traumatizing.  Certainly my least favourite option, but the only way I can ensure I get it back.

Any words of wisdom? Thoughts?

P.S. He’s not blocked, it’s just just been almost two months since I’ve responded.