Every day away from my abuser is a step towards regaining myself

“Don’t waste your time and energy trying to convince people to take good care of you. If you have to fight for their attention and respect, it’s time to move on.” ~ Lori Deschane

“Well, if you don’t make stupid decisions, you’re not worried. Maybe you need to think a little more and be smarter. It’s obvious to everyone, so I don’t know what you’re doing. They Knows that you cannot survive without me. “

These words, along with many other words like them, echoed in my head every day.

In 2020, when the pandemic approached the planet and everyone panicked and despaired, we all didn’t know what would happen. I returned to Canada to work in a 9 to 5 government and lived with my boyfriend who was with me for 6 years at that time.

I didn’t know if the tension from the pandemic or the fear that everything was coming to an end directly connected our relationship to the ditch. The pandemic allowed me to sit alone with myself (and the therapist) and actually see life about what it was.

“I’m happy?”

“Is this the place I want to be?”

“Is this the one who wants to be with me for the rest of my life?”

The world became quieter and quieter every day, but my inner voice and courage grew louder and louder.

The darkness around me was not from me, but from him. I was just a scapegoat of his misery. I was blamed and felt that there was too much love for the little ounces I was begging for. I said that my fears, hopes and dreams were all too much. I was too much, but at the same time not enough. Not smart enough, not clean enough, not creative enough. no. sufficient.

Every day my intuition grew bigger and bigger and taught me what I had to do, but for some reason I couldn’t. You see, it’s a matter of abuse, you can’t see it, and no one else can see it. You sit there every day and wonder if everything you’ve ever felt or didn’t feel is enough.

The constant battle between you and your lover tells you how remarkable you are, and after a few seconds you say how nothing, useless, and wasteful you are. Gaslights, lies, pain-it all casts doubt on yourself and every move you make.

I didn’t believe anyone really cares about me, and sadly I still sometimes feel that way. All the spaces I cover are apologies. All emotions fight war just to get out of my mouth. The sacrifices of abuse are so profound that they are sometimes incomprehensible and leave us wondering when everything will end.

As we moved further away and the blindfolds came off, I felt like I had lost some of myself. I lost the part that was intertwined with the guy I thought I should have loved, but instead shed me all the ounces about who I am.

I thought I was losing myself every day, so I really found her. Strip off the rosy glasses and chains to keep me in place, stuck, and kept small. I’ve been reducing myself for almost a decade so as not to hurt someone else’s fragile ego. The way so-called lovers can want to break their partner has always confused me.

It took almost two years to get out of the relationship after understanding what it really was. At the age of 26, when I wasn’t very ripe, I was redoing everything. I’ve lost my house, my daily routine, my grocery store, my schedule, my life, everything.

Immediately after I left, I wrote and released music (he said I couldn’t), taught music to students (he said I couldn’t) and saved more money than I had imagined (he said) Said I couldn’t)), applied and went to school (he said he could never do it), took care of only dogs and cats (he said he could never do it) ), I quit my disliked job, moved to America and, to be honest, felt really happy (he said I could never do it).

Discussing abuse has never been easier. It makes people uncomfortable, and I don’t know why. It’s very realistic and very noticeable in life. Healing from abuse is by no means easy and can be much more difficult than dealing with the abuse itself.

It’s the most liberating feeling I’ve ever had to get back some of myself that someone has unjustly stolen from you. Abuse robs you of more than you ever know. You only understand how much you lost after it’s all over and you’re forced to face life with the wounds you have now.

The struggle now lies between me and my part trying to protect me, driving away the good guys who are trying to love me because you don’t know. My ex always used it as a weapon, so I’m afraid of goodness and push it away.

No one tells you that you can get C-PTSD from years of abuse. Over the years, when people are told they’re crazy and yelled at every anxiety attack or difficult moment, it’s hard to believe that people really care. I now wait for the figurative ball to fall and meet all the wonderful gestures with doubts and doubts.

Now my days are full of constant questions about when good things go bad. Years of treatment have provided a toolbox for dealing with abuse, but nothing has been prepared for this aftermath. That’s the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced, but one thing I need to know about me is that I won’t give up.

Abuse has robbed much of my life, and who I was I can no longer rob it. It is a daily challenge to trust people more and learn to regain faith in humanity, but every day we get stronger and the once “broken” places are filled with love and trust in ourselves.

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