While the grammar is a bit broken in her story – sorry, P! … I can only attribute that to what it takes emotionally to retell a painful story. No matter how far removed.
I was just talking to a friend last night, “God, I don’t even recognize the girl I was when he and I were together. I don’t know that broken girl. Crazy how much about you can change once you are officially away from that.” I literally, do not even recognize the girl I once was in that situation. Had a remarkable man not walked into my life and showed me what true respect, partnership, love, and acceptance really meant – I would not have a clue as to whether or not such a thing really existed. Brainwashed, I was, indeed.
Read Phoenix’s story. She is a voice of so many women who desperately want revenge to take their power back, but know, from her story and her experience, that no real good, nor does any real healing come from it.
While, I am in NO WAY a battered woman, since he was in the very least smart enough not to be physically abusive – he mastered the art of being able to instill a forced desperation and longing which in the emotional sense is a very long process to get out of. (I giveth you a little love, and if you DARE step out of line or challenge me, I taketh away!) I hid the details of the emotional abuse from virtually everyone, my family included, until after the relationship ended. I only posted the sweetened things, on the good days, when I was not sick with anxiety that was so intense I could not sleep and on many days, could not eat. I find it beautiful, and comforting, to find that other women did it too, (while I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy… it feels better to know you were not suffering alone) sweetened everything up nicely in order to function, and then once the cycles of abuse finally ended — it came gushing out in cathartic fashion. I told everyone. Everyone. I told everyone all about what I had gone through and how I had been virtually roped in, brainwashed to think I was something less-than, and then toyed with for more than a year. I gushed out all of the details, and sometimes I cried about it, not because he was gone, but because I was finally ALLOWED to cry. (Crying was strictly forbidden in his presence, and if you cried when you were alone, you had best not ever tell him.)
Read. Women who have been through this, please read it. And after you read this guest post, please keep going, please keep reading all of the other items that Dating a Sociopath has compiled. It really is beautifully healing without the need to seek out revenge or seek vindication over something that has finally been put to rest.
Let go, or be dragged… It’s like holding on to a balloon that is inflated just enough to keep flying while you are holding on to it… and every now and then your weight makes it scrape the ground, painful indeed, but if you let go — you won’t be road-rashed across the pavement repeatedly anymore. You will let go, you will hit the ground HARD… it’s going to be painful, and hurt for a while… but after that you won’t be spending your life wincing waiting for the next time you are close enough to ground to be ripped to pieces. You’re standing on your own two feet.
Many people think that this site is run by two people. Myself and PR (Phoenix Rising), this isn’t true, as it is my site, but PR has been an incredible help and support in the last year, always trying to be on hand offering humour, wisdom, compassion and lifted spirits to those who visit this site, and were sometimes broken. She has helped me so much, and kept this site alive, especially during times when I could not be here myself.
Over the year she has not only offered support to readers of this site, but away from the site, to me too. For this, I am incredibly grateful. I know that a while ago, she had wanted to write her story, she sent it by email, and I think it ran to 13,000 words 🙂 🙂 of course, I had asked her to write a post – not a…
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