Long post. About life. And the other side of that coin.
Hi guys! I know I haven't been around much, but life is weird and hectic and it's often easier to scroll through Tumblr or play games on FB than to post my thoughts here. But. Sometimes something happens that is changing your life so fundamentally that you just have to write down your thoughts and feelings and what is actually going on, so you don't forget it later.
As some of you who've known me for a long time know, years and years ago, I was living in a very abusive and scary relationship. A life of non-consensual BDSM and brainwashing and control and emotional blackmail and systematic confusion of feelings. I was together with that man for 14 years, we lived together for 12 of those.
To mend all the damage he'd done, realizing that yeah, it's rape when your significant other brings home people he'd promised sex with me with, when he doesn't listen to your no, when he doesn't care that you try to get away, push him away, etc... To try to start trusting people again, trying to not see every stranger in the world outside as someone who's willing and able to sexually abuse me, to find pieces of my personality, things that are me, that I had had crushed and broken over and over, to find a sense of self-worth and self esteem again... It's taken as many years as I was together with him! I met him when I was 18. And he's ruled my life through fear and trauma ever since, in varying degrees.
When I moved to my new place last July, I didn't send him and his gf my new address. (We'd actually met from time to time and had coffee etc, like grownups do... and the last time I saw them, as a reply to her usual offer to "borrow" him for "chores or sex" *shudder* I told her there was a reason I left him. She looked shocked. I guess he'd told her it was a mutual agreement and we'd just separated so I could be closer to my job. Wow, what a lie!) That was three years ago.
This morning I woke up, and had a missed call and a text on my phone.
He died yesterday evening, on the couch. His gf asked if I want to come to the funeral.
Imagine my expression: O.O
But yeah... So, he can't hurt me anymore. I don't have to fear him finding me and showing up on my doorstep, don't have to be afraid to run in to him in town... Because he's gone.
Freaky sidenote is that yesterday evening, around 8 or 9, I heard a clang on my balcony, and got up to check wtf. The parasol, neatly tied down with a double loop of strong ribbon, had shed its confines and was proudly stretching out over my balcony. I stopped all that nonsense, since, no sunshine and winter coming, and took the opportunity to pack my furniture out there together and took the parasol down completely, laying it down on the floor. And then I wake up to that news... Coincidence? Hmm...
After a long phone call with my mum, I'll text F back and tell her that both me and my mum would like to come to the service. Like all psychopaths, he had good and charming sides as well. (And part of me want to see that it's really for real.)
This entry was originally posted at http://ldybastet.dreamwidth.org/637742.html.
comments there. You can comment on either site.
As some of you who've known me for a long time know, years and years ago, I was living in a very abusive and scary relationship. A life of non-consensual BDSM and brainwashing and control and emotional blackmail and systematic confusion of feelings. I was together with that man for 14 years, we lived together for 12 of those.
To mend all the damage he'd done, realizing that yeah, it's rape when your significant other brings home people he'd promised sex with me with, when he doesn't listen to your no, when he doesn't care that you try to get away, push him away, etc... To try to start trusting people again, trying to not see every stranger in the world outside as someone who's willing and able to sexually abuse me, to find pieces of my personality, things that are me, that I had had crushed and broken over and over, to find a sense of self-worth and self esteem again... It's taken as many years as I was together with him! I met him when I was 18. And he's ruled my life through fear and trauma ever since, in varying degrees.
When I moved to my new place last July, I didn't send him and his gf my new address. (We'd actually met from time to time and had coffee etc, like grownups do... and the last time I saw them, as a reply to her usual offer to "borrow" him for "chores or sex" *shudder* I told her there was a reason I left him. She looked shocked. I guess he'd told her it was a mutual agreement and we'd just separated so I could be closer to my job. Wow, what a lie!) That was three years ago.
This morning I woke up, and had a missed call and a text on my phone.
He died yesterday evening, on the couch. His gf asked if I want to come to the funeral.
Imagine my expression: O.O
But yeah... So, he can't hurt me anymore. I don't have to fear him finding me and showing up on my doorstep, don't have to be afraid to run in to him in town... Because he's gone.
Freaky sidenote is that yesterday evening, around 8 or 9, I heard a clang on my balcony, and got up to check wtf. The parasol, neatly tied down with a double loop of strong ribbon, had shed its confines and was proudly stretching out over my balcony. I stopped all that nonsense, since, no sunshine and winter coming, and took the opportunity to pack my furniture out there together and took the parasol down completely, laying it down on the floor. And then I wake up to that news... Coincidence? Hmm...
After a long phone call with my mum, I'll text F back and tell her that both me and my mum would like to come to the service. Like all psychopaths, he had good and charming sides as well. (And part of me want to see that it's really for real.)
This entry was originally posted at http://ldybastet.dreamwidth.org/637742.html.
comments there. You can comment on either site.