I suck at talking about my problems in real life.  I keep it all inside and then BAM!  Next thing you know I’m walking in the front door sobbing because my normal parking spot was gone and “I just don’t know how to deal with this” (true story)

I thought that coming here and writing my feelings would help me avoid situations such as the aforementioned but what do you know, I suck at writing my feelings out for an imaginary audience as well.  I’m an avoider, a procrastinator and an avoider.  I don’t want to pay any extra attention to my feelings because I just want to push them away.  Not a good idea. Why do I suck at life?


Good Reads

Earlier in the week “Psychology Today” posted a series of articles about domestic abuse.  I highly recommend them.  Even if you’ve never been in an abusive relationship yourself, the first article tells you some of the common signs to look for in the beginning of a relationship; things we often overlook in that blissful phase when a relationship is still fresh and new.  I’m not posting this  to intimidate, I’m not the type who thinks every man (or woman) is an abuser, I just find that I wish I would have had more knowledge about the subject because knowledge is power!  And if I can help even one person be proactive rather than reactive and avoid a situation like the one I experienced, well, nothing would make me happier.

p.s. I know not many have read this blog yet, but if you stumble across it I would love for you to comment!  I don’t care what you post, be it a critique of my blogging abilities (or lack thereof), a question about myself, or your own personal experience with abuse, or anything else you can think of, don’t hesitate!

I have heard from him several times during the past week.  I have heard about how we should be best friends who go to lunch on sunday and watch movies together.  We’ll touch on that lunacy another day. 

Yesterday I received a text message that read “It (my shortness on the phone) wasn’t appriciated” Needless to say there was no responding to that.  About 10 minutes later I get another message reading “why were u mean to me r u still mad at me for something?” 

Am I still mad????? AM I STILL MAD????? Oh no, no, no, no, no, schmoopy of course I’m not mad I was only forced to uproot my whole life to escape constant turmoil and abuse from you, but my golly that was A WHOLE 9 DAYS AGO ALREADY. 

What an absolute douchebag.

And since I refused to respond to him, the rest of this post will serve as my response.

Yes mother fucker I’m mad.

I’m infuriated that you lead me on for 6 months, waiting until I moved in with you to turn into your ugly, lazy, evil, brutish, selfish, ignorant, self.

I’m mad that though you now want to be bosom buddies I have not received a single fucking apology for all the things that were spewed at me for all that time (not that it would ever make me be your friend even if you did) 

I am mad that you are probably playing the victim and telling everyone you know that your girlfriend just packed up and left you one day and you have no idea why.  Oh woe is me.

I hate that you think that I would be so stupid as to continue any form of a relationship with you when you put me through hell and changed my entire outlook on life  for the worse. 

I’m pissed that you make me feel like I’m crazy on a regular basis.

I’m annoyed with your mind games and control tactics.

I’m furious that I ever loved you.

I’m mad that I put up with you for as long as I did and that  I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt.

It makes me sick that you cry to everyone who will listen that you miss your kids and never get to see them because your ex is a “cuntbag” and yet you have done NOTHING to set up visitation and on the rare occasions she would let them visit, you slept the entire time leaving me to entertain them.  THEN when they would want me instead of you, you got pissed.  All I can say is hahahahahaha.  And also, those girls are precious and I will miss them terribly but what hurts even more is knowing how much you and your ex fucked up their heads and their lives.

In summary, you are a lazy, lethargic, apathetic, abusing, whining, selfish, ignorant, controlling, evil, demented, idiot of a loser who is also a deadbeat dad. 

So yes Dan, It turns out I’m still just a wee bit mad.

After the third night of crying myself to sleep I took the bull by the horns and told him that his “blow-up’s” had to stop.  I couldn’t sleep at night, I was arriving at work late and to class unprepared, and I constantly felt like I had just been hit by a Mack Truck. 

He replied with “I have to yell at you.  I can’t take my anger out on anyone else and so it has to be you.”  Faulty logic? Check.  I will not even mention the fact that this statement was said in all seriousness and that he was truly convinced that my role was none other than his emotional punching bag.

Though infuriated after such an asinine remark I continued forward with my speech, as surely that is not what he meant to say.  Oh but it was. 

After that it all went to hell.  I have heard and been told many things that I thought it impossible for one human being to say to another.  From your run-of-the-mill “None of this would happen if you would just listen to me and do what I tell you”  to the more childish name calling phase, one of my favorites being “You g.d., dumbass fucking retard”  (Screamed loudly enough for anyone within a five-mile radius to hear, naturally.) 

It’s not all about the words though, it’s also about action.  For instance, picking out cats, bringing them home, and then when one likes me better deciding that you “hate that fucking cat” and that you “want to strangle it and watch it choke to death”.  I, being the animal lover that I am, decided that the cats would be better off with their previous owner and so told him to make the arrangements to return them.  Though it would break my heart because they were my only companions in this hellish situation, they would be happier and not have to live in fear of being screamed at and chased, and I would not have to live in fear that he would snap and hurt them.  He called and set up a date and time and then can you guess what happened?  He never did it.  HE. NEVER. TOOK. THEM. BACK.  And every day after that???? He screamed about them and how much he hated them and how while I was gone he was going “to take them for a ride”. He also stepped it up a notch by stomping at “my cat” every time it walked into a room thus reducing her to a fearful pile of fur who hid in closets all day.  And do you know that to this second he still believes that this whole relationship fell apart because of “that fucking cat”?  It’s times like these that I question my, and everyone else’s, sanity.

p.s. The cats came with me and Zoey, the fearful pile of fur, is back to her old loveable, table sleeping, food snorfing self.

Couch Potato

I’m currently entering the phase of depression where I want to do as little as possible.  I attend school and I work, but above and beyond that even the smallest task on my to-do list seems insurmountable.  There is so much I need to do and yet so little time and motivation.  If I am active and doing things I will most likely be reminded of “him” so I find myself sitting on the couch, watching T.V., and sulking.  This is not healthy, I will not continue it, but for right now? It’s what I need to do to get through the day.


I know I spewed all that crap about how this situation will not break me.  I hope that’s the truth because right now I feel pretty broken.  On Friday I went home and tried to half-heartedly pack.  Finally I gave up, called my moms and waited for them to get there.  As soon as they arrived I lost it like I have never lost it before, I cried, I sobbed, I hyperventilated to the point where my whole body was tingling and I had to put my head down so I wouldn’t pass out.  How can someone reduce me to this?  How does another human being have the power to make me feel this way? 

The important thing is that I picked myself up off the floor, loaded the car, and left.  I have not heard a word since.  This fact is both a relief and a source of great hurt.  On the one hand, he is letting me go and perhaps realizing that he cannot change my mind (besides if he did contact me what the hell is there to say???), on the other hand he didn’t care enough to change and I truly wonder if this even upset him at all. 

 Here’s the thing about verbal abuse, people who’ve never experienced it seem to think it’s just a case of “hurt feelings”.  All I can say to that is NO.  This particular form of abuse (and it IS abuse) has the power to change who you are, to turn you into someone you don’t recognize, to make you doubt yourself and even your sanity, but perhaps the worst side effect for me has been that I am losing faith in people.  I know that I shouldn’t generalize, and that not everyone is “bad” (whatever that means) but I find myself gradually distancing myself from most of the people around me.  I really do want to be alone; and that used to be my biggest fear.


So today’s the big day.  The phrase “big day” seems to illicit the image that something exciting is occurring but alas, not so much.  It’s exciting in the sense that I’m demonstrating courage and escaping a situation that very easily could have held me down indefinitely, however, my main emotion today is fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of being alone, fear that somehow I’m making a huge mistake that I will later regret (though intellectually I know this is absolutely, 100 percent, false).

Simply put, change has never been easy for me.  From something as simple as changing shampoo brands to something as life altering as, within the span of 4 days, deciding to pack up my things and get the hell out.  So today will be hard, I will be sad, I will probably cry more tears than I knew I had.  My heart will ache for a while, and it is very possible that this situation has changed me in ways that can never be changed back, but I promise that I will not let it break me.  I will help others in the same situation whether it be through word or action.