This is the second in a series of posts I am writing about my relationship experiences…more to come.
There is a quote from carrie on Sex and the City (that I somehow cannot find) concerning relationship red flags and the ease at which we, as women, ignore them (perhaps men do too?). I have identified with this quote all too well. It often appears that I am capable of ignoring so much in a relationship, i.e. my own happiness.
We met in college. I stayed with him way too long. When I finally gathered the courage to end it, I went back for more.
I knew before we even got involved that it would be a bad idea. I had seen a good friend experience horrible things with him — endless arguing and emotional abuse. Somehow, I convinced myself that things would be different between he and I, things would be better, we would make more sense. It took me a long time to admit that the relationship was unhealthy. It first had to cost me a few friendships. Then, it had to cost me any sense of financial stability (he had no job and I was almost entirely supporting him). We were codependent, to say the least.
He screamed at me almost every night – I would wake up, at some point, and realize that he had all of the blankets. When I attempted to pull some away from him, and cover myself, he would yell at me, call me names. Every time, I swore to myself that I’d end it in the morning. It continued like that for almost a year. Once, he gave me an unexpected gift — a beautiful orchid. Hours later, when the arguing began, he used the gift as ammunition. He was an addict, and I fell, effortlessly, into his addictions.
I saw all the red flags, I just chose to ignore them. The emotional abuse worsened over time. It was as if he had no concept of me as a human being. He never knew how to respect me.
What am I trying to do with this post? I want to write honestly. I want to be true to myself and my past. I don’t want to gloss over my errors in judgment or the way these experiences affected me. I want to delve into the world of emotional abuse without naming people, without painting a picture of myself as some helpless, love-struck fool. Emotional abuse is hard to recognize — people yell and argue, people slam doors out of anger, but there is a line whereupon it becomes abuse and, for the abused individual, it becomes self-destructive. I want to address this line, this vague notion of abuse that is not manifested physically. Emotional abuse can be even more dangerous, more consuming. It can be easy to ignore. It can become so familiar that you seek it out. Perhaps, on some level, you believe you deserve it.
I must have believed this. Why else would I have subjected myself to such treatment for so long?
One night, after we had broken up (we were still seeing one another for an ongoing bout of the unhealthiest break-up sex known to humankind), he called to come over. I finally stood up for myself – I told him no. Later that night, while changing in my room, I was startled when I noticed someone at my window. He was watching me, waiting for me to notice him and let him in. I did. That was the last time we saw one another.
One might expect an act of “closure.” We never had one and I’m okay with that. I have vague memories of missed calls and unanswered text messages – I was finally able to ignore his attempts to reach me. I don’t mean to imply that I ”learned my lesson.” Sometimes you have to repeat bad habits before you realize that they’re just that.
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