I've been a complex introvert since birth. I keep a lot to myself, which, I'm learning, is becoming quite the problem. It's clear that I need to talk to someone; and this is my arena for doing so.
The truth is I spent 2 years in a highly abusive, volatile relationship. I stayed because he was my first everything, and I truly believed that being with him was better than being without him. I maintained a state of deep, self-imposed denial because I mentally couldn't handle admitting what was truly happening around me. That's a sad, sad, fact in and of itself.
For 2 years, on almost a daily basis, I was told that I was stupid, ugly and worthless. I was led to believe that I wasn't capable of doing anything with my life and that no one would ever want me. When you're in a situation where you're constantly being told such hurtful and harmful things, it really messes with your psyche. After awhile, I started to believe the things he was saying to me. And after a little bit longer I started to say the same things to myself. Along with the verbal abuse there was physical abuse. It's scary to think that because of everything else, being pushed around didn't even phase me. I kid myself and said that I can handle it. Who the hell thinks like that?! Apparently I do. In addition to that, he was a cheater and for the first 4 months of our relationship he was messing around with my best friend, something that I suspected and heard about but couldn't get a truthful answer about from either one of them. If I questioned it, the 2 of them denied it and both made me feel like I was crazy for even thinking that. The one and only time I told my supposed bff how uncomfortable and wrong I thought it was that she was hanging out with my boyfriend every night, she ran straight to him, crying, and told him what I had said. He screamed at me over the phone and made me out to be the bad guy. The next day, we argued about it again and he told me that he wished I was a guy, so he could beat the shit out of me and not get in trouble for it. That was the last time I ever fully opened up to a "friend" about my feelings. Lesson learned I guess.
The guy was and still is an addict. In true addict form, he was a master manipulator. Not only did I believe the things he was filling my head with, but I let him isolate me from my friends and family until I was so far away from everyone and so completely dependent on him that I truly had no one and no where to go. My parents were always mad at me, my mother accused me of choosing him and his family over my own. Because of my intense need to keep things to myself, I didn't say anything to anyone. To this day, no one knows about how it really was. He drank a lot and because he drank, I drank. Every night was just another round of seeing how much we could drink, how high we could get or whatever else came around.
In some crazy way, getting pregnant was my way out of the relationship. The drinking and drugs stopped, I was at least responsible enough to do that. The fighting didn't stop, infact it almost got worse. I lost count of the number of times he threatened to "punch the baby out of my stomach". He constantly warned me that there'd be hell to pay if I tried to take the baby away from him. I was scared to death. I was 18, pregnant, and felt like I didn't have anyone to talk to. My parents hated him and didn't try to hide their disdain for him at all. My mom couldn't help but shoot me dirty looks when I'd go see him. His mom wasn't very fond of me either, and constantly found ways to make me inadequate. She didn't attempt to hide the fact that she really liked my best friend.
I felt like a complete loser. I didn't know what to do or where to go or what would happen next. My pregnancy was high risk due to my age and the fact that the stress was taking it's toll on the both of us; the baby and myself. Every month there was a new concern. At 7 months along my doctor told me he wasn't convinced that the best place for the baby was inside of me. It was just one more count against me, I couldn't even handle being pregnant. My boyfriend wasn't any help, he went from drinking and getting high to messing around with pills to something worse. By the time our daughter was born (3 weeks early and extremely small) he was a full blown crackhead.
That was the beginning of the end of our relationship. He stopped doing crack for awhile and started drinking more to compensate. I started having a lot of anxiety. He didn't have a car, so I had to pick him up from work. And every day I would get in the car and the closer I got to his work, the more nauseuous I became. After one particularly bad night, I kicked him out. We stayed together but didn't live together anymore. The relationship finally ended a year later after another big fight that happened right in front of my family. I was done, I had finally had enough. And to make the whole situation easier, my mother overheard me on the phone with him and got mad at me for it, little did she know that I was only trying to get off the phone with him and knew that if I told him what he wanted to hear then he'd leave me alone. She told me that she was going to put some distance between herself and my daughter because I was just going to go back to him anyway and she didn't want to watch it anymore. I guess he wasn't the only one who didn't believe in me.
A month after we broke up, I found out I was pregnant again. I was devastated, I had no idea what I was going to do. To make matters worse, my father was gravely ill and we weren't sure how much longer he would make it. I didn't tell my ex boyfriend about the baby, because deep down I knew that the three of us, myself, my daughter and the new baby, would all be safer and better off without him in our lives. It was a drastic decision but I felt it was the right one. I knew he wasn't ever going to bring anything but trouble and hurt to our lives. So far, I haven't been wrong. I have not spoken to him in years but I hear about him from time to time, and I never hear anything good. To add fuel to the fire, my mother has now taken it upon herself to be the main voice of criticism in my life. I can't even count the number of times I've overheard conversations between her and one of her friends, or her boyfriend, talking about how I'm not capable of doing anything or going anywhere in life. If one person thinks it, theres a large chance it's not true. But if many people think that way, then maybe there is some truth to it. I just keep taking it all in, storing it in the dark places in my mind. Unfortunately, those places are becoming bigger and bigger and the anger is getting stronger. I really am a terrible person.
Over time, experiences and situations have a way of hardening you until you become so completely numb that nothing fazes you anymore. I'm now in a position where I'm raising 2 children by myself, with no potential father in sight. I keep everything to myself because I decided a long time ago that I'm nothing if not strong. He may not be around to remind me that I'm stupid, ugly, and worthless but those thoughts are not completely erased from my mind. I still catch myself saying the same things. If I'm late for something, I will spend the entire car ride to wherever it is I'm going completely berating myself for not being on time. I am obsessed with my hair and makeup always being perfect because deep down I have zero confidence in myself. I truly do not believe that I will ever find someone, because I truly do not believe that I deserve it. I don't trust and I don't let anyone get close.
This post is nothing more than an expression of everything I loathe - an emotional outpouring of any sort. It makes me sound pathetic and weak and I hate it. But at least I finally told someone. Thank God no one actually reads this crap.
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