Wednesday, August 7, 2019

I Don't Normally Cry

After almost 17 years, I realized that not only have I endured emotional, mental, and financial abuse but I also endured sexual abuse from my husband throughout our relationship. Almost 17 fucking years. I listened to a podcast today about narcissistic abuse and the counselor that leads the podcast discussed ways a narcissist sexually abuses their victims. With the exception of a few, everything she said pertained to my relationship. I didn’t know what to say, or who I wanted to say something to. I wanted to run away and hide. I sat at my desk at work and tears began to flow. I didn’t weep, it was like the kink that was in my tear ducts was released like when a garden hose has a kink and you straighten it out. I couldn’t stop the tears, they didn’t last long, but it was the first time in a long time that I cried.

When I got home, I immediately changed into my most unflattering pajama pants and a shirt that doesn’t match. I’m hoping he doesn’t try to compliment me on my appearance or feels anything attractive towards me when he gets home. Dinner was made and in the oven. I was sitting on the couch and he walked in the door. I ignored him and once he picked up on it he began small talk. I couldn’t stand to listen to his voice, hear his fabricated stories, and honestly looking at him made me cringe. I told him I needed to go lay down because I was on my period and having cramps. Which wasn’t an entire lie. I laid in my bed and just wanted to hide, he kept coming in to put away laundry. So I fell asleep to get away. 

Once I woke up, he came into the room again, my daughter runs in excited that I was awake. I get up to go eat dinner and he looks at me and says “have you lost weight?” Are you fucking kidding me?! No asshole I haven’t lost any weight and I’m actually really bloated right now because I’m on my period. But all I really said was no and walked out of the room. He’s a boundary crossing narcissistic psychopath and I’ve reached my breaking point. I am broken inside, and empty. 

Here’s the crazy part...I was molested as a child by my stepfather and that didn’t break me like this did. My husband,  the father of my child, the one I thought had changed, he finally broke me. I don’t know if that’s been his agenda all along or if he really thinks about how to make my life a living hell. I no longer consider him my husband. I don’t love him. This is not what love is, and for anyone who tells me “he may change, just pray about it.” Fuck you.

I rarely cry, maybe it’s because all the shit I’ve been through has damaged my ability to cry when I’m overwhelmed with joy or my feelings have been hurt. But today... today I cried.

-Anonymous