Bad Day

Bad day

I have had waves of sympathy for him today.  I don’t want it, but it’s happening.  I feel guilty and sad.  And I miss him.  I just want to make him food and make sure he’s ok.

In case you are worried, that’s not going to happen.  It’s just on my mind.

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?

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.

The truth - a realization

I was amazing in bed because I was hellbent on getting you off quick and the hell off of me.

The propensity for self doubt.

I wrote about this in a message to someone, but I thought it may be an interesting thing to note about my mindset at this time.

When the texts were ramping up last week I went to a woman’s shelter again to get some information on legal and safety options. I brought two friends with me, as in my brain fog I can easily miss some information.

I spoke to a social worker who was really welcoming and understanding.  However, unknowingly, she said something that put me in a tailspin.  It was in her phrasing:

“Do your have records on file from your hospital visits?”

With a clear mind I can guarantee this assumptive question was a simple error, and my friends, who were present, have reaffirmed this. However the floor in my head dropped out.  

I don’t have records because he never put me in the hospital.  

My injuries were never severe enough to send me there, and I never wanted any of this on file.  So I immediately felt as though my circumstances didn’t warrant help and I was being a burden to her, my friends and the system from which I was using resources.

I wanted to leave at that very moment and these thoughts plagued me for days.  All from one sentence.

After my abortion, I was in really rough shape. I told him that I didn’t think I could have sex for while.  He responded with this.

My response is humiliating. He made me come over at 2am and offer myself up. I did.