Society pretends that bitterness isn’t a normal reaction to being hurt and that’s a lie. I was supposed to start a family with this man and we’re no longer together and I’m supposed to not become bitter? Yeah, that’s cute (sarcasm).
I was so damn angry but it was really just grief. I felt mistreated & bamboozled. What the hell happened? Like, really? What just happened? I gave him all the space in the world to be himself—right, wrong, or indifferent but I didn’t get a third of that.
Something was better than nothing or so I thought. I romanticized his minimal effort & enabled the entitlement and unhealthy behaviors.
I was livid and didn’t wanna give the world that energy, while I was unpacking the many layers of emotional abuse. So, I took a step back, went to therapy, accepted my faults, owned my flaws, wrote myself back to life, and finished the book.
While writing my story, I realized I gave a lot…Hell, too much. It was almost like I was already married and had kids. I was so indebted to this man that it was sickening because I didn’t get a damn thing but PTSD.
I’ve had other relationships before. But, this one was the one that ignited my soul. This was the first relationship that I felt like I was really gonna become a bride and a mother. This man was a part of my world. Everything else and everyone else before him didn’t matter.
At first, it was incomprehensible. But, after therapy, it all made sense. The adrenaline rush was really my body’s response to trauma that was normalized, since before I met him. But, he ultimately made me realize how unhealthy the type of love I craved for was. All the while I thought loving someone out of fear was normal. Nope! Anytime you’re afraid to voice your opinion because you’ll be punished, that’s not normal–that’s abuse.
At the time, I thought what he gave me was healthy. Then, as time went on, I realized it wasn’t—not for me. By the time we were done, I had low self esteem, developed PTSD, and was prescribed meds because I wasn’t myself anymore.
As you can see, there was a lot to unpack here. Eight months later, and I am still in therapy, dealing with the residue from this relationship. While I am no longer in ICU and I like to think of it as physical therapy, healing is a long process.
As you listen to the audiobook, watch the biopic, and reflect on what I say—please understand that healing is exhausting, gruesome, and sometimes unreasonable. It’s definitely not linear. Hell, I still have thangs I’m unpacking. But, after you get to a certain point it’s the sweetest thang you’ve ever known.
Happiness isn’t a destination; it’s a journey. For me, this is just part of my path.
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