6/17/2015

To My Abuser

M -

I can’t help but notice that I was blocked from seeing your facebook account. I’m not upset about it really, just curious as to why. Did your family have you block me, or was it of your own volition? Did I really hurt your feelings that much that you decided - fuck it - I need to block her - she makes me so goddamn miserable, as I have done in the past in regard to you? Or did you think I was going to continue fighting with you instead of leaving the comments as they were? Did you think that when I said that you are not precious to me, but to your mother, that I wish you hadn’t lived through the ordeal your sister posted about? Because though I am impartial to your existance, and am being completely honest about it because to pretend otherwise would be a lie and fucking weird as Hell, I do not wish death upon anyone, especially someone connected to people that I care about. That is all you are to me - a person who is connected to several people that I care about. And while I wish that I could go more than one day at a time without hearing or uttering your name, losing you would hurt them, and seeing them suffering and/or losing them would hurt me, so I roll my eyes and move forward if I happen to catch a glimpse of you. Or, I talk about you with some of these people, hoping that by speaking words about you, the thoughts of you will finally fucking leave my mind and I can live a life without being reminded of the fact that we have history and the fact that you still exist.

I feel like there is no reason for you to be angry at me. It’s laughable to me that you could feel upset about something so stupid. Why would you be angry at me for NOT CARING about you? Why would you expect me to? Shit, I saw you recently and said NOT A WORD to you, because I wasn’t fucking there for you and didn’t want to give you that impression. If anything, after everything that we “shared,” I should be angry at you. In fact, I am.

Let me explain something to you. I have been in many bad relationships. So many. I have been able to bounce back from all of them - even the worst of them. I have recovered from them. I have forgiven all of the people who have hurt me so far. I am able to have them in my life in some capacity. With you, it is not that simple. Of all of the shitty people that I have dated, or been in any sort of relationship with, only one has broken me.

You.

You. Broke. Me. Into a million and five pieces. It really pisses me off to write it out. It continues to piss me off that I let you. After so many relationships, you were the one who destroyed me; you were the icing on the fucking shitty ass cake. You win the shittiest-person-that-I’ve-ever-dated award. You were the one who made me want to die, and I contemplated drowning myself for months after we broke up. You were the one who made me want to punish myself for “messing up and ruining our relationship,” and not eat for thirty-six hours after you broke up with me. You were the one who caused me to get so depressed that I did not shower for a week and a half. You were the one who caused me to have to go in later at work because sitting through two hours of silence during nap time was too fucking hard. You were the one who caused me to screen for bi-polar disorder when looking for potential partners. You were the one who made me feel like I had to change to fit you, that my opinions should be your opinions, that your beliefs were my beliefs, that my time was always actually your time. You were the one that isolated me from my family by not including them in our “gatherings,” and made me feel like they were inferior to yours. You pulled me from my friends, telling me that I HAD to be friends with your friends or we could not be together, then decided toward the tail end that you did not want this - after we broke up, you pitted them against me and pitted me against the people that I had come to love and cherish, in the hopes of breaking those friendships. You were the one who manipulated me (do not deny it - you’ve even tried doing it recently by telling me to follow you on tumblr when you found out that I reblog posts associated with your name or baiting me on facebook to tell you that I care about you) into doing what you wanted to do every time I disagreed. el You were the one who made me feel like I had to compete with the memory of your ex throughout the ENTIRE relationship - even going to her house ALONE way after we agreed that we wouldn't hang out with our exes with just them, when I felt like I couldn't see MY BEST GUY FRIEND because we slept together YEARS before we dated and YOU were uncomfortable (And really, you need to leave that poor girl alone. She is married and has a child. If you treated her anything like you treated me, and I KNOW you did, I promise you that the only reason that she even bothers to speak to you now is because she feels like she owes you something, and she owes you NOTHING. Not one damn thing). You blamed me for not trusting you, when talking to you about personal things was like pulling teeth, and you did not open up until the last few months of our relationship; you broke up with me for "reading [your] journal," which is the only fucking way I learned what was going on with you. You conned me into thinking that you wanted to be with me so that I would stay, doing just enough to keep me with you even though I understand now - even though you TOLD ME - that you were never fucking in love with me (and that hurts to finally admit - it does, because the only way I can stay sane about our time together is to think that MAYBE YOU MIGHT HAVE LOVED ME but you didn’t. You only ever cared about yourself). When I came to you saying that I have an anxiety disorder you tried to convince me that there was nothing wrong - there could be NOTHING WRONG with me if there was something “wrong” with you - when we were both sick. My emotions were never valid to you - if I was angry, you would find some way to discount what I was feeling and turn it around to make me feel crazy. If I didn’t want to do something you wanted, you threw a bitch fit to get your way - every time, without fail. You left me with nothing of my own - my family, my friends, my interests, my personality, sense of humor, heart, body, soul were ALL YOURS. (The first to come back were my family and friends, and thank whoever-is-out-there for them because without them I would be dead.) I don’t even remember who I was before you got ahold of me. That is how much you rewrote and destroyed everything that I was. I have rebuilt who I am, no thanks to you at all, and would never, ever let that shit happen again. I am assertive, bold, honest as much as possible, and tough as nails, and I am still not over what you have done to me. You emotionally and mentally abused me, and I am not okay with that.

I forgave you for my own benefit. My hatred for you was poison. That does not mean that I am not angry.

I wanted to meet with you in person to talk it out - I would finally give you my side to get closure, and hear your side of what the fuck happened. I would give you the chance to explain yourself and to apologize, maybe even be a tiny insignificant part of my life, because I am a good person and that’s what good people do, right? We forgive, and we try to move forward, yes? Fuck that shit.

No matter how awesome I am at being a good person, it does not change the fact that I am a victim of your abuse. It does not change the fact that you made my life much harder than it needed to be - all I did was love you, and I stayed with you against my better judgement and despite the fact that you broke up with me TWICE before the final time, and try to accomodate you, and try to forgive you and work things out even after you broke my heart, and I got handed shit in return. It does not change the fact that because of you I have fears that have made my current relationship so much more difficult than it would have been had I never met you or dated you. Sometimes I feel sorry for my boyfriend of almost three years because he fell in love with someone who is broken and shattered and has been working to find all of her pieces - I am grateful that he is up to the task of looking with me and molding new pieces to fill the gaps.

Anyway, I wanted to meet up but could not bring myself to keep an appointment with you. The prospect of seeing you and speaking to you face to face was not appealing to me, and I had no idea what I would say even if I could bring myself to sit across from you. Honestly, the mere thought of it was giving me panic attacks; I have high anxiety and you do not help it at all. I can’t even talk to you on a computer screen without my brain going into panic mode. When it comes to you, I am not one hundred percent rational - even in a dream I had recently I responded to you in a negative way. I do not want to deal with your bullshit.

Once I got past the initial want to make things right with you, I realized that there is really no room in my life for you. We still cannot be friends because you have not changed or grown as a person at all - any time that I hear about you it seems as if you are pulling the same shit as you were when we were together only on different people. (Stop it. The people in your life are not there to cater to your every fucking need. They are there to be your friend, your equal.) I was hoping that you would have changed over the past three years, that maybe you became a better person and treated people better. I worried, for a few minutes, that maybe I would fall in love with you again because you were so changed - there is absolutely no reason for that worry to exist now. We cannot be friends because I have changed for the better, and you bring out the worst in me. Just talking to you/planning to meet with you made me a worse person; I treated my boyfriend worse, acted more withdrawn. We can’t be friends because you don’t know how to fucking communicate like an adult, choosing instead to block me on a social networking website in order to get your point accross about a post that really had nothing to do with you. I can’t have you in my life because you still scare me (I can’t even write a fucking piece of fiction loosely base on our relationship because the thought of living through it ALL OVER AGAIN sends me into a panic attack and hours of unsolicited depression, and seeing cars that even slightly resemble yours makes me freeze up) - your manipulation, anger, and past abuse is all too much. It makes me sad, because I know you could use another person in your life that knows you completely and would actually be a good friend to you, but I couldn’t be that person to you even if you did let me. I no longer want to be that person.

I do not care that you blocked me; you decided long ago that you didn’t want to be part of my life. I don’t care that your feelings might be hurt about something trivial. Maybe now, without the control to bring you back into my life in my hands, I can use my ability as a good person to focus on other things besides making amends with someone who probably never fucking cared about me in the first place, and who certainly doesn’t value me as a human now. Good riddance.

- K