Saturday, June 7, 2014

Start at the beginning of my journey, years ago.

I was superbly miserable. Three years ago I was living in an apartment I did not chose with a man who treated me like his maid-servant, verbally, and mentally abused me daily. I was still suffering with multiple health problems, obese (if not morbidly obese), and had no health insurance. He refused to put me on his insurance as a domestic partner even though we had lived together for 8 years. Upon moving to that place, he had thrown out most of my furniture telling me that when we moved, "There wouldn't be room for two sets of everything and besides, we are going to be together forever." The old apartment was empty and was already leased to some one moving in a month later. I had lost my job in spring that year and spent all of my time and money catering to his needs and the move. After a scorching summer in which I had spent most of it packing, moving our things in my truck two counties away, and renovating the old apartment by myself, he picked a fight with me at the new apartment. He yelled at me in "our" unpacked apartment, "YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE!!! You should just get out!!!" How convenient for him. I had done all the work essentially myself. His life was complete and ordered. My belongings were in storage, thrown away by him, or at "his" apartment. My life was up in the air and torn to pieces. The place I called home for 6 years was ripped apart and with it my sense of peace. I was essentially homeless and trapped by him.

Mind you, this is less than a year after I was offered a job paying $50K. He had ruined my attempts back then of getting back into my career. In 2005, his father was dying of pancreatic cancer (which is his excuse as to why he was becoming increasingly moody, violent, and distant) and he was really unstable. A week after I was offered the job and I was to go in for paperwork, he started a huge fight. I don't even remember what it was about, probably money. There was never enough for him even though I was a Dr. in graduate medical training at the time. He had told me in one fight that, "He would have liked to have had a house by now." Really? With his clerk income? That meant I was supposed to have provided it by now for him. I guess I hadn't "paid off" quick enough for him. He RAGED at me wild-eyed one night that it was too hot in the house and how DARE I turn the a.c. off?? He was practically foaming at the mouth, spitting threats at me, he looked like a mad man. I cowered away from him. He followed me into every room I went into to get away from the conflict. I could feel my pulse rising, my heart pounding, and I was shaking all over. He ran to the kitchen drawer and pulled out the biggest kitchen knife he could. He threw me to the wall and pressed it against my chest. He was screaming at me incoherently and holding me with the other hand to the kitchen wall. He turned the knife on his own chest and grabbed my hand screaming, "DO it to me! Just kill me already! I want you to END ME!" He went on & on...I escaped to the bedroom and locked the door. He slammed his whole body against the door. Then he slid the knife through the door jam making jabbing motions, still screaming like a madman....banging at the door.....

Needless to say, I had some stress going on at home. I felt imprisoned, ashamed, fearful for my life, and guilted into staying at home to "take care of his every need". He was so disturbed. I should have called the police & ambulance on him. I should have made him leave my house. However, my mother urged me to stay with him and work things out. She felt sorry for the man and guilted me by saying, "You know, his father is dying, Ahimsa, you can't possibly break up with him now. His family lives in another country, he has no where else to go now." There was no mention of how he tried to take my life & his at the same time. How insane he had become. How I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach that he was cheating on me with someone at work. Nothing. She said NOTHING about these things. Some how it was ALWAYS my fault. I hadn't been "understanding enough" to him. I wasn't "strong enough" to see him through tough times. I was the problem, NOT HIM. Yes, that is my mother, folks. Classic BPD just like the x-boyfriend.

Back to "the move"....I stood there in the doorway of that apartment that summer, all my possessions in boxes on the floor, and this little evil man shouting at me that I WAS NOT WELCOME HERE. Needless to say, I broke up with him. I was out of my mind with grief. How could a person I had stuck through such awful moments (and of course he swore up & down he would never raise a hand to me again--ladies, don't believe a man who says these things-EVER), his father's death, my brother's death, and everything else that had happened in 6 years--how could he reject me like this? How could he treat me so awfully? How could he let me SWING the way he had?

Unfortunately, he called a few weeks later and promised me the world. "Let's get married already." No ring, are you kidding me? That is what sociopaths do. They schmooze, they flirt, they tell you what you think you want to hear, they mirror the good things about you, and they charm your pants right off. They swear they will never harm you again, never say those awful things again, that they are mistaken, they were sick/under stress/hungry/bitchy/whatever the excuse is today-- in order to get you back as THE VICTIM. They love a rescuer and they need some one to feed their narcissistic ego at all times. Someone who will stand there and believe their lies and be cheated on, be abused. The LOVE a human doormat. They LOVE getting someone to fall in love with them so they can act out on them while they are working on meeting and lining up their next conquest and victim.

And let's face it, I was a sucker for taking him back. I had been isolated, abused, and scared right out of my career. I had nothing left and he had gotten rid of whatever objects I did have left to call my own. Being coached by a dangerous psychopathic mother as well did not help. She wanted us to make up. I suppose so that she wouldn't have to hear from me unless she needed my money or help on her properties. These are no-win situations. I guess I forgive myself for not heeding my inner voice and getting out permanently at that point. For not questioning the "advice" my mother gave me when he had brandished a knife at my chest, threatening to kill me and this time around when we "made up" after he had made me feel unwelcome and unloved. I forgive myself and I forgive these sick twisted people I was dealing with.

Yeah, so that is the "start" of it all. The two years I spent in that new apartment was hell on Earth. I felt trapped, trampled on, and had all my efforts to advance myself spit on. When I failed due to the stress & chaos at home--I was verbally, physically, and sexually abused for my "failure to advance". I was kept in the dark and his friends and co-workers didn't even know he had a girlfriend anymore. He hid me away like a dirty secret. He never wanted to go out of the house with me like he was ashamed of me in some way. He started drinking more regularly and insulted every step at self-improvement I made. He bold face ied to me and laughed in my face about my "faults" as he saw them. He picked apart the way I dressed, the way I looked, and even the way I cooked. I felt "I must be doing something wrong for him to treat me so bad. I must improve MYSELF to win back his love & approval." I tried harder & harder to please him and he rejected me at every turn. I worked out 3-4 times a week, I tried strict diets, I kept the house clean for him so he wouldn't scream at me on his days off. I cooked for him every meal. He went out without me all the time after work. If I questioned where he was or who he was with he would deny it completely or start a massive fight that ended in violence. Nothing I ever did was good enough for him. This psychopath was what I was going to lower myself to marry and settle for.

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