I want to drink my supper tonight. I probably won’t, because I tend to be more responsible than that, but I might have one or two to calm my nerves. You know why? Because when I was walking into the grocery store, I thought I saw him walking out. Instant panic.
My heart drops into my gut, it pounds in my ears. I feel like I go dumb and don’t know what to do; keep walking, or turn around and go the other way? But it’s not him, I realize. This guy looks similar to him, but it’s not him. But it makes no difference. All of a sudden my confident walk changes. My demeanor is different. Once again I can’t look anyone in the eye, and I play avoidance and try not to attract any attention in the store.
I still live in the same town with one of my abusers. I wish I didn’t, but I own a home here, and up until this year, my son went to school here. I have family and friends here. I don’t want to let him run me out, but in a town of less than 50,000 people, I knew that sooner or later, I was going to run into him, and I did, a couple of months ago.
I live near a convenience store, only about a half a block away, and often I will walk down there to grab a bag of ice. One Saturday I had walked down there, went inside and paid for my ice, and went to the cooler outside to grab it. I had noticed the truck sitting right in front of the cooler when I walked past it the first time, but I didn’t notice the person sitting in it. By the time I got up to the cooler to get the ice, I realized who it was. Same thing—heart into the gut; grab the ice, or just walk past and get home as soon as I can?
I grabbed the ice and tried to pretend like everything was cool. I got around the corner of the building and walked home as fast as I could, feeling like my heart was going to pound out of my chest. My worst fear after seeing him, was that he would start harassing me again. Thankfully he didn’t, and knock on wood, it has been almost a year now since he has, but in the past him seeing me would’ve begun a string of phone calls and text messages, and professions of love.
Why am I so scared of him? I’m not sure. There was only one time he got physical with me, though he threatened many times to kill me, and that was when he put a cigarette out on my face. But that burn was nothing compared to the psychological and emotional abuse I suffered from him. Those scars go deeper, and they seem to be the kind that never heal. They haunt me. Everything will seem to be going along just fine, and then out of the blue something will trigger that feeling of panic and the anxiety will set in. I wanted to be free of him for so long, but even though he hasn’t been physically present in my life for three years, he still causes that panic in me.
Do you know I used to wish he would hit me? I looked at it as a way out. Isn’t that crazy? I wanted the proof on my face. How else do you prove to the world what’s going on? Because by the time I was that deep into it, he had me convinced I was so fucked up, that no one would believe me. So yes, I wanted it. I wanted a black eye, I wanted a busted lip. I wanted to be able to look in the mirror and see those things, and know that I wasn’t the sick one.
** The guy I am talking about in this post obviously isn’t the one I just kicked to curb, but he is the one that got me started down a road I never wanted to, or thought, I would walk. I struggled writing this post. Right now as I sit here writing it, I want to cry. It’s just that I didn’t want to write it, because by doing it, I have to admit I am a victim of domestic violence, and most days I just can’t deal with the reality of it.
All of it is still very surreal to me, and I believe the reason I got into another abusive relationship, this last one physical, is because I probably haven’t fully dealt with this one I just wrote about. Maybe, like with alcoholism and drug addiction, first you have to admit that it happened. And thanks to Melanie, this shit just got real. I am so grateful to her for asking me to write, and being so supportive! I don’t know how I would’ve got through these last couple of months without her and my other blogger buddies. I hope I can share more of my experiences, because I think it’s cathartic. I am currently trying to find a new path, one that isn’t littered with abusing assholes! 🙂
About the Author
Why have I never written in this section? I wasn’t really sure how to do it. Plus, what the hell do I say about myself? That I am fucked up, and can be slightly neurotic, that I overthink shit, that I feel things too deeply, that I seem to have extremely bad luck with men, that sometimes I drink too much, that I think I’m funny in a crude sort of way, that I consider myself to be a cool nerd, that I own power tools and know how to use them, that I still believe the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach and also a little further south, that I want a big love, a big love that will last the rest of my life. Basically, I am an eclectic nut, who can’t seem to find her niche.
Deliberate Donkey 
This part right here “Do you know I used to wish he would hit me? I looked at it as a way out. Isn’t that crazy? I wanted the proof on my face. How else do you prove to the world what’s going on?” I used to wish the same thing, for the same reason.
Thank you for sharing this, I know it wasn’t easy. I never thought of it along the lines of alcohol or drug addiction, having to admit it’s happening before you can stop it but I think you’re right.
It’s good to know I am not the only one who has felt that way. I know the cigarette burn was physical abuse, but it was almost like it wasn’t bad enough, or something. God, I know that sounds so sick, but it was the way my mind was working. My mother was horrified that I let him come back after that. I guess I thought I could “save” him with love. I am such a fixer. Thanks for commenting.
[…] the reason for the tears? No, it’s most likely a number of things–thinking about my post at Deliberate Donkey going live this morning, the fact my son was sick yesterday and it was the first time I wasn’t […]
Thank you, Fatbottomgirl! I think all of us end up finding the same niche…speaking the truth. That leads to amazing realizations, which lead to our joy and happiness. Anyone recovering from any bad habit or addiction needs to dig deep to understand how and why they ended up where they ended up. What is discovered is sometimes painful but mostly inspirational and motivational. 🙂
I wish the pain could be by-passed, as I always think I have had enough pain, but I am realistic, and know it cannot. I am doing a lot of soul searching right now. Thanks for reading and commenting.
I am ever so grateful for you writing through the tears and sharing this here. It’s not crazy to wish for bruises. As the cops told me, one person’s emotional abuse is another’s bad day. As if.
When I posted the pics on my site of what happened with the most recent abusive ex-asshole, everyone asked why I didn’t call the cops. What good would it do, was my reply. I had a PFA on the dipshit I wrote this post about, and it did me no good. Even when he violated it, he was back on the street within a couple of hours. The police don’t/can’t protect you in the long run, and all of it ends up being more emotional turmoil. Thanks for inviting me to share. Even though the process was difficult, I know it will help me work through all of it.
Not calling the police was my biggest mistake. It ultimately cost me my children. The judge didn’t believe the abuse occurred because I didn’t call the police. He labeled me a liar and gave my abuser our children.
I am lucky in the fact I did not have children with any of these abusive men I have been with. I can’t even imagine what it’s like to be in your situation and have to deal with it on a daily basis. I am able to walk away and shut these men out of my life, but I know you, and many other women aren’t. I understand in your situation, why you wish you would’ve called the police.
That is so sick. The family courts are such a mess, its embarrassing. Again, I must say that marks on the body and reports of abuse do not always help. Even though my abuser was CONVICTED of Criminal Restraint (a DV charge here in NJ) a FEMALE judge took away my no contact order and I have no PROTECTION for when this maniac comes out of Prison….oh and he can file for visitation of my son (the one I have with him) when he gets out of prison…yeah,…nuts
Are you allowed to carry a weapon in NJ, like with a permit?
well no permit to carry-its almost impossible and since my abuser had me arrested with him and I had to get charged with his bs-I now have a felony charge and am not allowed to own a weapon-well played on his part…..
That totally sucks! It’s another one of the reasons I didn’t call the cops the night the last guy did all that shit, was because I started defending myself and fighting back. I probably would’ve been arrested too.
yup thats the way it goes in nj…there is no self defense law, but there is something called battered womans syndrome so if he ever comes near me again. well lets just hope I have a good lawyer bc I will NEVER let him hurt me or my kids again!
Yeah, and restraining orders are really crap anyway. They are meaningless until they are violated. Like someone who would abuse his wife his going to give a shit about a little’ol piece of paper. I am scared with and for you. I doubt prison will have taught him a lesson. Maybe you’ll get lucky and he’ll have been torn a new asshole and won’t be able to walk too well.
LMAO> Nah I know that the ro wont help except it would make him think twice before violating bc it would violate his parole and send his ass back to jail. I know he wouldnt care bc he violated the no contact that I did have many times (and when I went to the court to report him they were like-hes in jail what do you want us to do?) This is his second time doing a possible 10 years down state (ahhh the things you find out about people AFTER). I too pray that a man with a large penis named bubba violates him every night. My other dream is that he gets shanked, I mean it happens all the time, I watch lockup….
Well done for posting this. Sharing at this level is not easy and waking up the day after sharing is even worse!
I have been a fan of your blog for a while now and I can see how far you have come. You are putting much more value on yourself, and you are beginning to see patterns and ask questions of yourself. I have no doubt you will come through all this and be in a much better position to recognise love and to embrace it on your own terms when it bumbs into you.
Am I going to run into that shit pretty soon?? hahaha I guess I can only keep hoping, huh? Thanks so much for following my blog, and being such an awesome supporter with your words of wisdom!! Luck o’ the Irish to you! 😉
Ha ha. Good one! I suggest if you are going to bump into him you do so in a car!
Bwaah haaa haaa! That was funny,….I will add that it should be a very FAST moving car….
Thank you for sharing your story. I love that you “want a big love, a big love that will last the rest of [your] life.” I hope you find it.
Thanks so much for reading!! 🙂
Thank you so much for sharing your story. Unfortunately just because you have marks on your face and body does not always make a difference. I can not remember how many times I showed up at places with black eyes, bruises and marks on my body and so many people just ignored them. I am so sorry that you have to live in the same town as your abuser, I can not imagine how terrifying that can be. I remember having that same feeling when I thought I saw my abuser on a local road. Even though I knew it could not be him (as he is in State Prison) I followed the car almost 10 miles so I could get a good look at the passenger…..
I didn’t want them on there for other people to see, only for myself. Just to have as physical proof to myself, that I needed to get the fuck out of that relationship. The emotional scars he left were much worse, than I thought they would be at the time. It is funny how no one will say anything if you do have marks on you. I even went to my gynecologist for my yearly check-up right after the Fuck Stick had beat me up, and the doctor said nothing. He is a mandated reporter, and he didn’t say a word to me about it!! I was amazed.
I am not surprised at all. I ran into a gas station screaming my head off begging someone to call the cops (this was in Staten Island, NY) No one did. I once drove up to a strangers house and begged him to call the cops, he kicked me off his property-although I did go back a week later and rang the doorbell and when his wife opened it I explained what happened and mentioned that the bruises that were all over my body and my black eyes were from later that same night when I got home…Needless to say she was NOT happy with her husband…I can not believe that the dr didnt say anything…its a sick world out there =(
No one wants to get involved. I really think that’s why our country is going to hell, because no one wants to speak up, or speak out about the most heinous things which are occurring in our country right now, so they are perpetuated, because no one cares enough to do what’s right.
I agree…I always call the cops if I see something strange…I dont care I get involved…..
Same here!
I can totally relate to the panic attack of possibly seeing your abuser. For years after I was stabbed I felt like I was seeing out of the corner of my eye. I knew he was in prison but I would still call a friend that worked for dept. of corrections and have him look up in data base to make sure he was in custody. Thank you for sharing your story.
Thank you for reading! I hope things have gotten better for you.
Look forward to following you… I don’t think those flashbacks will ever go away , but for sure they are not as often…
I think that is very true, and the worst part is probably the anxiety that is triggered. It just comes out of the blue, and you have to figure out a way to deal with it, regardless of where you are.
So true…
Gawd, what a post, my FatBottom girl. I am so touched. As a survivor of multiple-perpetrator abuse, mostly from family members, but also spousal, I sooooo get this on a cellular level. Everything you wrote is so how I have felt in my life. Your writing takes my breath away, but it’s your soul, your spirit that shines above all else and makes me swoon. I feel you, sis. Just know that you are on your path and you are nailing the shit out of it. You are love. That is all that matters. YOU are LOVE. Pure love.
Thanks Lizzy!! Thanks so much for your kindnesses and your support. You are my fat bottom soul sister, and you totally rock!!
You KNOW IT, mama. I got yer back and your fat ass (or whatever size it happens to be). Always! 🙂
🙂
Wow what courage you have, and thank you for speaking out on this. I’m so very sorry for what they’ve put you through. They’re brutal, they make us think it’s us, but it’s them. I hope you feel empowered by writing this! I didn’t marry a narcissist but I was raised by one, they really mess people up. Sending support to you as you feel this stuff. xo
They get in your head, and they twist all your shit around until you think you’re crazy, and it takes awhile to pull yourself out of that mire of shit. Thanks for reading!!! 🙂
yes they do, the father messed me up royally. one day at a time we take our lives back. xo
The most difficult posts to write are often the ones that most need to be shared. Not only for others who may be able to find strength in your story and your words but also for the cathartic value you gain from it as a writer.
“the cathartic value you gain from it as a writer” Yes! It’s so amazing what we get from writing it out.
I got plenty more where that came from!! Unfortunately…
Write on writer. You’re welcome here anytime if you want (if you’re not ready for your own blog, but your support system there is amazing).
I feel extremely lucky to have all the great blogger friends I have!!
It’s awesome, isn’t it. This is one amazing place.
I totally agree, which is why I did it, but it is very emotionally exhausting. I am glad I did it though, and am looking forward to posting about a couple other things. Thanks for reading!!
I found when I started opening up and writing about the ‘tough stuff’ I wanted to continue to write about it. It was almost like when you are scared to jump into a pool so you dip your toes hesitantly in to test the temperature before diving in head first!
It’s the reality of it that’s scary, especially if you’ve done a good job of shoving it to the back of your mind.
I can only imagine how scary it must be to see your abuser. Thanks for sharing your story.
Thanks for reading!! 🙂