Terrorized - 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.
Rinse, repeat. Rinse, repeat.
I have started writing a number of my posts with “The worst thing about an abusive relationship is....” and then having to erase it because it isn’t true. I can’t call this particular aspect or experience the worst thing. It’s all the worst thing.
Devolving
But I'm guessing you already knew that.
Anthem
While working in the basement one day, I did something that upset him (likely the board I was holding wasn’t straight or flush enough for him, or something we screwed together wasn’t square). He pushed me to the ground and I hit my head.
He stood over me, triumphant and imposing. I locked eyes with him for a moment, stunned. Then he sang “Who runs the world” in a mocking voice; he sang Beyonce daring me to get up.
The deal with meals.
Ten years ago he decided that I would make all the meals. Only he told me that I was the one that decided that.
When we first moved out we were still trying to figure out all of the things that young couples are trying to figure out: how to work out each other’s schedules, keep the apartment clean, ensure we had enough to pay the bills, etc etc.
There were days, when I was working late, that it just made sense for him to make dinner. I had grown up learning how to prepare food - I wasn’t great at it at the time, but I was taught, and fully believe, that is this a life skill. So I learned.
He did not. Rather than trying to figure it out ( I was fully prepared to eat food that had been burnt to shit during the learning process) he went for things that were easy. This meant lots of frozen food that he could throw in the oven and be done with. No veggies to be found.
I do not have a restrictive diet by any means, and I am in no way a total health nut. However, my body, and I will spare you the gory details, INFORMS me when I have been eating too many greasy, pre-packaged, fried, high sodium and high fat things.
I tried mentioning this on a number of occasions and it always turned into a drag out fight. He didn’t believe me despite the physical symptoms that were visible. His rationale? He was eating the exact same thing with no symptoms of the sort. I was just making it up to be a bitch and have something else to nag him about.
My incredulity as a side - I can’t imagine being with someone and insisting on cooking food that makes them bleed.
It came to a head one night where he had me on the floor crying. I was an unreasonable bitch and I had made the decision right then and there. Since I didn’t like his “cooking” I agreed to make all of the meals that we ever ate ever again.
It was an utterly ridiculous contract. But it was one that he stuck to to the letter. I always had to leave social gatherings and other events, sometimes even work to ensure he was fed. If I did not, he wouldn’t even make himself a sandwich until I got home. He would starve himself or binge on chips in order to spite me.
And that hangry meme that circulated social media for a while? Hilarious to some - a real and utter nightmare for me. There was hell to pay if there was no dinner on the table when he walked in. Yeah. That really is a reality still for some
To this day he has never learned to cook, which has been an immense problem for him since we are no longer together. I’m sure he fancies himself an excellent culinary critic though - there was always a problem with what I made
The only good that came out of this is that with the training of the basics I received from my folks (and I am very grateful that they insisted I learn) and all the practice I’ve had over the years, I’m a fairly skilled cook and meal planner. Most of the time I like it too, but it has also been a trigger.
It’s hard when the things you love are tainted.
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.
Revelation
The idea that people would be friends with their siblings was mind boggling for a long time.
I have two brothers who are significantly older than me (6 and 10.5 years). The age gap is enough I suppose to explain our lack of closeness, but it's definitely more than that.
When I was young I was desperate for validation from them, particularly the one closest to me in age. He had a lot of resentment for me as he believed I was the favourite. He also is a certifiable genius and I think that just makes a person more susceptible to being, well, an asshole.
I'm sure I was annoying; my desire for his time and companionship likely manifested itself in "obnoxious brat" form. But he made it a point to make me feel stupid, insignificant and unwanted at every opportunity. When he was angry with me he would hit me, usually across the head. I don't remember it processing further than that with him, but I began to associate insults and physical abuse with ' family' and 'loved ones'.
My eldest brother, well, I have recently confessed to my parents that he actually terrorized me. His bedroom was in the basement, and when I'd hear him coming up the stairs I would dive under the dining room table on instinct. On more than one occasion he would use me as a toy to abuse. "Play" too rough and accuse me of being ungrateful when I begged or whined for him to stop, cheat at games and deny it, break my toys in front of my face if I was irritating him. I still remember my feelings of helplessness.
When I was 7 or 8 he grabbed me by the throat, lifted me off the ground and pinned me to the front door. I have no idea what he was thinking or what a little kid could have done that would have sparked that kind of anger.
From there on in i would lock myself in the bathroom of my brothers got angry with me.
I was learning the basics of how to survive in a home with a monster.
He's persistent.
This is just what he's been taught will win me back.
You want real world examples of shitty cishet male behaviour being reinforced by societal standards? I'm living that goddam nightmare.
Pita Bread
I had a flashback yesterday as I was putting some take out in the fridge.
He threw me out of the house (physically) onto our concrete steps one night without my shoes, keys, wallet or cell because I had put pita in the fridge.
He didn’t like it cold - it got too stiff.