Speak

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For the past two days I’ve had so much to say… so much I want to say. The problem was A) I get a whole blog typed and it doesn’t save before it gets lost (thanks wordpress) or I just didn’t have the time.

Yesterday I was so mad…. so mad. The controlling fragment of my ex reared it’s ugly head, and sadly I pulled the trigger in the middle of my anxiety attack. I must remember that one bubble of text on an Iphone can equate to three on his, but I neglected to mention that part. Ever since my birthday all the insecurities he instilled into me have decided to flow upstream through my veins and manifest itself in troubling ways.

I never felt good enough for him.
I always felt inadequate.
Since the beginning he was ashamed of me…
I wish I had had the strength to leave him sooner.

The problem is, you take narcissistic personality disorder (which now no longer exists as of the new DSM) and mix it with someone who has codependency problems, low self-esteem, abandonment issues, culturally abandoned the lifestyle one was brought up in, and is 18, and an entire storm of manipulation occurs. If only the sex hadn’t been so damn good… and that was the problem, especially since he was my first. After years of exploring someone so intimately sex no longer is an act – it’s a craft. Kissing? It’s an art; it’s expressive in both giving and taking. When the physical meets the metaphysical your world shifts on it’s axis.

*sigh* I’ve spent two years hating him and keeping him at a distance through antagonistic measures as a preventative means to ensure he doesn’t get too close…. the problem is I was lying because it wasn’t who I was. I hated acting so bitter and betraying my innermost self, but it felt extremely necessary…. life dependent even. I still want him to have no part in my life, and I don’t want to know what goes on in his…. it infuriates me, and brings up even more garbage from our not-too-distant life. I’ve had a chance to sit and think so hard for two years… once I was ready…. to objectively consider my part, as well as his in the relationship. I know my faults, and I know his (more so because he lacks the ability to look within himself). Everything he does is always circling around his ego. He doesn’t seem to understand empathy, and runs on an entirely selfish modality – I in fact am so much the opposite I have a hard time putting on the breaks so I don’t end up hurting myself…. and that’s where the crux began. When a relationship stops becoming selfless and starts becoming selfish, it fails. Our problem was a lack of mutual reciprocity; I was always give…. he was always take. I was too young, too foolish, too innocent, and too inexperienced to tackle the big dogs…. but I did, and lost in a way that has scarred me for life.

I’ll never forget feeling that way… wanting to die… running to the hospital begging for anti-depressants because I wanted to kill myself. Instead I got 3 anti-anxiety pills under the table from the hospital and never took them. They’re still sitting in my bathroom, though now expired. After all the shit I endured for months prior too, wanting to keep us together after cheating multiple times over and telling everyone I cheated on him instead, I find out that he invited his man/woman lover over to my house to have sex on my bed while I was out getting my psychology degree, desperate to find a way to keep us all together. This was the tipping point. I never wanted to see him again, and I was never the same person again. Thank god “it” said he/she was tipsy and didn’t come over…. more revolting was my son was home, and we share the same bedroom… my bed is in there. There were two major fears I had with my ex and our child… A) He would bring him over to his house where all the fuck-up’s live, and B) He would invite a woman over when I was in school. He did exactly both.

Two months of trauma ensued thereafter once I finally shut the door on him for good, and the silence began. Symptoms that could only be diagnosed as PTSD kicked in, and once the intensity of it all left (and my sanity slowly returned from my mental breakdown) I was left with, and am still left with, and anxiety disorder. I have a panic attack nearly everyday. I regret everyday not leaving him when I had the chance many many years ago. I hate myself for loving him.

Fuck…. I have to get ready for work, and I have him to contend with today. This was more therapeutic then I intended, but now the residue is eating me away 😦 Panic attack in 3… 2… 1…

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