Horrible Memory - Tumblr Posts

I only need a minute after you're done kicking me while I cower in fetal position.  I just need to steady my breathing after you’ve finished and left me in a pile. I’ll get back to making dinner and it’ll be ready soon. Don’t worry.

Intentionally set up for Failure

Once he made me pick up bread crumbs with a paper towel and blamed me for not buying him a vacuum cleaner.

He shoved me against the table a second time, the first shove being the cause of the crumbs on the floor.

WOW

This red flag just smacked me in the face.

The reason I moved in with him in the first place was because his mother had kicked him out of his house. He had been attempting to help his sister, who was visibly frustrated, with something on her new laptop.  She got a bit snippy with him and he lost his temper.  He punched a chair which hit the wall and left a hole.

I was present for this event.  I saw it unfold.  I watched him punch something because his sister said “I knoowwww!” 

A running theme was that he didn’t like when people were “ungrateful” or didn’t acknowledge him when he was trying to help them.

Funny parallel:  I moved out with him so we could combine our measly incomes at the time and prevent him from having to live in utter squalor.  I was not ready to move out; I was still trying to finish my degree and school full time.  I had to pick up more shifts at my retail job and worked nearly full time.  My grades suffered as I was now a full time student, employee and abuse victim.

I sacrificed a lot for him to have a better life but that’s never a story that got told. Or a thank you I received.

They’ll never know.

I have a concealer arsenal of greens, yellows and purples. I’m good to go.

I belong to a local community theatre organization. It's given me the opportunity to meet some really lovely people

One member with whom I get along quite well is a psychology professor at the University in my city. I really enjoy her company; she's a genuine, sweet person.

I told him about her a few times in passing, but he really perked up when he found out what she did for a living.

" Now it makes sense. You understand why she's interested in talking to you, right? She recognizes that something's wrong with you..."

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.

Mockery

TW - vague reference to sexual assualt, calling my assailant by what he is, coercion

After my assault my dislike for anal penetration skyrocketed. At the time he didn’t know the reason outside of the physical discomfort. Silly me for thinking “I just don’t want to, I don’t like it” is reason enough to not have to perform a sex act. Not having a “legitimate” reason for not wanting it made it fair game to badger me about it.  It wasn’t every day, but he regularly requested it, lamented my aversion, and using emotional blackmail to get it.  

Admittedly, I gave in quite a few times, which is how I managed to get to a point where it didn’t physically hurt anymore. However that did not mean that I enjoyed it.  

Each time was traumatizing to various degrees.  The event itself less so than  having to agree to that which was demanded of me by Rapist.  Mix in the stress of pending pain and discomfort, getting the prep just right (which included me fasting because I’m paranoid) and the anxiety of something going wrong (have I ever mentioned he was a germaphobe?) and you have the recipe for the  most unsexy sexual experiences I’ve ever agreed to.

I thought his attitude would have changed after he found out what had happened to me. 

I was very wrong. 

A little over a week ago I was going through a strong " missing him" phase. At those times I try to reread some of my old posts to snap out of it.

This one is a gem.

IT WAS THAT BAD

When we were working on the basement last summer, he got some concrete work done. So there was  some time where the floor in the basement was all broken up.  He told me if I kept upsetting him he’d bury my body there and cover me up with concrete.  

No one would ever know.