Posts Tagged ‘verbal abuse’

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.


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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.

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