Ive Been Struggling. He Left Me Without A Personality And Scrutinizing Each Thought In My Head. I Dont

I’ve been struggling.  He left me without a personality and scrutinizing each thought in my head. I don’t know who I am, and I have no faith in my abilities.

I keep trying to pull myself together, but some days it feels like there’s not much to salvage.

I went out dancing again last night, but I didn't feel quite as at ease as the first time. I was with some younger folks, so there was some drama that had nothing to do with me afoot; the interruptions that ensued were admittedly annoying.

But no, my memory was jogged because I had been in this bar before. Halloween 2016. He wanted to go out, and he had no one else to go with( I was last choice, you see, and he wanted to make sure I knew that).

So we went. However he was there to pick up girls, so we couldn't actually spend time together. He said he wanted me find us a 'third'. I said I would try.

I didn't. I have difficulty starting conversation at the best of times and as I had recently stopped drinking at that point there was no hope for artificial courage. I meandered around mostly.

But no matter, he was fine on his own. When I headed to the washroom, I found him sitting with a woman sprawled across his lap. He smiled at me as I walked by, enjoying my discomfort. I went to the washroom, regrouped mentally and decided that I couldn't stay. So I went to sit in my car and texted him to tell me when he was ready to leave and I would pick him up.

Later when he was in the car he told me that I should have stayed. He wanted me to watch. It was punishment. Justice. And if I actually loved him I would have endured.

The sister.

Trigger Warning: vague reference to  sexual assault and referring to assailant by title. Slut shaming.

My ex and I resumed dating a few weeks after I was assaulted. I was eager to put what had happened to me at the back of my mind, so I dove right back in without hesitation.

We were out one night at one of our regular haunts located in the heart of nightlife hub in my city.  He stepped out at some point for a smoke and I went out with him to keep him company.

I saw an entourage of women coming down the street led by none other than Rapist’s sister. I screamed on the inside and then went dead.  I couldn’t move, like my feet were cemented in place. She was also with a woman I recognized from school.  I knew her name, but I didn’t know anything else about her. 

Well, apparently she knew a few things about me.

She stopped as they were walking by and said to my ex “You know you’re dating a slut, right?”

His response was “Oh yeah?” And he looked at me suspiciously. The girls, including Rapist’s sister, laughed at his reaction and likely how I was standing there dumbfounded.  They moved onward toward where ever they were headed.

I was stupid enough to hope that he would have said something soothing in that moment.

“A slut, hmm?  I always wondered what you were doing those nights when you didn’t answer your phone.” He threw his cigarette butt at me then walked back into the bar.  I was still cemented in place.

I did manage to talk my way out of it.  The girl who was vocal was not classically attractive, and I, embarrassingly, used that to my advantage (”She’s jealous” “She wasn’t well-liked at school” etc).  So things moved on. 

I’ll admit that this event was nearly as traumatic as the assault itself. 

Interesting things I figured out later from social media:

1. The woman who called me a slut appeared to be attracted to Rapist and must have been jealous he’d paid me attention. 2. Rapist’s sister became a social worker.  She apparently did work on sex trafficking and sexual assault.  Oh the irony. 3. There is at least one other woman that he did this to who received similar treatment by his sister.

Interesting subsequent event:

I’ve seen the woman who called me a slut recently.  She lives in my neighbourhood.  We were each walking toward one another, she with her multiple kids, me on my own.  

At one time I would have dropped my head and avoided her.  Not this time.  I looked right at her, and she was the one who avoided my gaze.

I never would, especially in front of her kids, but I could have easily gotten revenge.  I could tell that she was well aware of that. 

I wonder know exactly how she felt being the vulnerable one.

Outside looking in.

A woman at work confided in me that her daughter is in an abusive relationship.  She’s telling me all of the things that I don’t want to hear myself:

 “She knows better,”  

“ I don’t get it, why won’t she listen” 

“Why would she be with someone who called her a cunt?”

She kicked her daughter out of the house in an attempt to make her ‘wake up.’  While I think this was the wrong decision, I can tell that she loves her daughter very much and is just at her wit’s end.

I know that people like me are difficult to love. I also know that loving me takes a toll on the people who do. 

I had no words of comfort or advice to ease her mind.

When you're reaching out for help, a " I'm sorry, the girl who leads that program isn't here right now, can you call back tomorrow?" will set me back at least a week.

It may seem petulant, but when you get up the nerve, it may be fleeting, and you need someone to catch you. Right then.

I don't think you'll understand this if you've never been in crisis mode.