Man Of His Word. When It Suited Him.

Man of his word. When it suited him.

It was early days, so the movie thing made me angry.  He knew I was looking forward to something and he took it away from me.  And did said thing with his ex.  And then lied about it. Twice.

When I am angry, I need time to calm down.  He never understood this.

While I was at work the next day, he bought me flowers when he went grocery shopping.  He did that periodically at the beginning, but it was never for me.  It was so I would shower him with praise for doing something so sweet.

I still wasn’t in the praising mood.

He called me a bitch and he told me he’d never buy me flowers again.  If memory serves correctly, he stuck to his guns.

This was nine years ago.

With every day that passes, I am so much more awake and aware of the horrible HORRIBLE things he did to me.

... as skinny feels.

TW - ED, self harm 

I’ve had part of this drafted since I wrote part one.  I’ve come to the conclusion  this left more scars than I was inclined to admit.

Quick catch up: He exacerbated an already problematic cognitive pathway in my brain and exploited it to manipulate me.  In short (and very simplified): Bad Thing Happened means Pain = penance = possible redemption.

So I found interesting ways to punish myself that wouldn’t raise flags.  Severely limiting my calorie intake was perfect: it made him shame me less and caused discomfort to punish myself for things that I was doing at the time (ie, cheating)

I am still struggling with the idea that I had an eating disorder;  the narratives I’ve read don’t appear to apply to me. But some things definitely match.  I have some form of dysmorphia, for example.  I have never been diagnosed.  But I can’t look at pictures of myself without cringing, and my self body image is definitely distorted.  

I got very thin. I dropped down to a point that was unhealthy. I never weighed myself because I didn’t have a scale.  But things stuck out.  Yet still, I felt there were things that required shaving off.

He loved me that thin.  Couldn’t get enough of me. But he wasn’t the only one.

I never received so many compliments as I did when I was literally in the throws of some of the most self destructive shit I’ve ever done.  For months, my daily intake was 500 calories a day or less . I went a few whole days without eating anything and was so proud of myself when I got into bed those nights.

The whole experience was extremely disturbing looking back on it.  I refused to eat outside of 11am and 3pm.  I was obsessed with food - I still know the calories in almost everything I eat. And if I don’t, I still check. My muscles always hurt. I was always cold, sometimes shaking, and always thinking about the next meal.  I got dizzy easily, and giddy delirious.  In my head, these side effects were great - a free high.

I don’t know why I stopped, but it was always temporary in my head. I felt like if I just reached the sweet spot with a perfect 6 pack that he would be nicer.  That he would treat me like he loved me.

After he had kicked me out and I had commenced with therapy I told him that I talked to my therapist about it.  He told me two things that night: 

That I made him look really bad because he didn’t notice that his spouse was struggling with an eating disorder, and, a few hours later 

that he and I always ate dinner together (lie, he was on afternoons and had dinner when he got home at 11pm or midnight, see the Hours of Acceptable Eating above) and I always eat a lot.  So this was a figment of my imagination and I was a liar.

Not only did it never happen, I took the opportunity to, once again, smear his character.  That night ended in violence.

Inglorious Bastard

In the early years of our cohabitation a movie I wanted to see was in theatres.  We had plans to see it, but life had prevented us from going for a few weeks.  

Finally, a weekend came where we were free and I suggested we go.  He told me he’d “already downloaded it” and “didn’t like it very much.”  I was hurt because it was supposed to be a date, and he’d known how much I was looking forward to it.

I was hurt more when I was sorting through his laundry  like a good wifey and found that he was stupid enough to leave the ticket stub in his pants pocket.

I confronted him about his lie.  He clearly couldn’t explain it away, so he told me that he went alone. I tilted my head and told him that I was pretty sure he went with his ex girlfriend *.  He admitted it defiantly.

I was upset. 

He told me he lied to me because he knew I wouldn’t take it well and he should be able to see a movie with whomever he likes.  If I were a more reasonable person, he wouldn’t need to lie to me.

She’s dating someone else.  It’s Facebook Offish.

I’m not heartbroken, but I’ve been annoyed about it for about 15 minutes. 

If there is one positive thing I can say about leaving a totally horrible relationship it would be that it puts other things like this into perspective. 

One day I will find a good one. And then I will chase them away with my crazy.

I did not update. I contacted her, and she graciously welcomed me back as though nothing had happened.

Today is her birthday and I am so SO excited that i get to post about her on my social media. I've missed her so much.

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.