Lurking in the shadows,
Keeping her on her toes,
Waiting patiently to pounce,
She will feel him trounce.
Slithering from a distance,
He has a ton of persistence,
The perfect moment will come,
She will have to succumb.
Tag: abuse
The Darkness
The bus drives down an empty street,
A man staggers home with two left feet,
Blue lights twinkle in the far distance,
As the woman wonders about her existence.
How quiet the town becomes at twilight,
We fear the monsters that lurk in the night,
Uncertainty of what creeps in the shadows,
A woman worries if these are appropriate clothes.
Silence slithers through the same familiar ground,
He is happy waiting for the perfect victim to surround,
No one around will listen when she cries out in pain,
The woman’s life will forever feel this very strain.
A burden she will carry with her through it all,
Times will be that tough she will fail to crawl,
Horrified at what the darkness could send her way,
This woman continues to fear it until this day.
What is left behind after abuse?
Abuse comes in many forms, for me, it was both psychological and physical abuse that my ex put me through. Today I’d like to talk about what is left behind after abuse, and what it is like trying to move forward from something that is so hateful.
Physical Scars
Thankfully most of those scares faded, I only have one physical scar that has remained with me to this day, it’s from a cigarette butt that he decided to put out on me during one of his outbursts.
I don’t get to see it very often but when I do I am taken back to that night, to his face which sparkled with glee while he did it, and I always feel shame when I see it.
Shame that I couldn’t do anything to stop him, shame that I hadn’t left him before then, and blame that it was all my fault.
Psychological Scars
This one runs deep, being so scared of men straight after the incident yet feeling as though I needed a man to take care of me and offer protection from him.
Being scared I might see his face around every corner, tensing up when anyone tries to argue with me, nightmares of the knife-wielding maniac trying to cut me open.
Taking it into my current very long term super soul mate relationship, to a point where I would unconsciously take my baggage out on my better half.
Using drugs to numb to the pain right after the relationship did not lead to better places, or cutting off ties with friends due to my own reckless behaviour.
That’s not to say anything about the effect it had on my own mental health while adding PTSD onto the roster and the grief that comes with losing that person he pretended to be.
Grief
I want to elaborate more on this, he was a monster but he pretended to be someone else, almost as if he knew to draw me in with this kind, caring, fellow.
After we split up I did not take any time to grieve him, instead, I pushed it into a box and buried it deep down inside.
Anger
At myself for letting this happen again and again, my friends for not helping me when I really needed it, my parents, who were taken in by his charm.
The anger I had towards him for never paying for what he did, and the anger I had at myself for being so broken that I thought I deserved it.
Loneliness
Cutting myself off from everyone I knew, making excuses about why I couldn’t go out, wanting to be surrounded by people but feeling real loneliness when I was with anyone.
Never sure who I could talk to about it, so in the end, I spoke to no one.
Fear
Of people, of trusting anyone who tried to really get close to me, even if I wanted them too. I was always scared that they would treat me the same way he did because I thought I deserved it.
This fear has manifested into my everyday life, as though I am always waiting until he breaks in and finishes the job.
Failure
Feeling like a failure in my own life, psychological abuse has gone that deep that I beat myself up even more, and believe every horrible thing he ever said to me.
If it’s true then why try?
Why me?
This question will plague me for the rest of my life, why did he pick me? What did I do? But these are not the questions I should be asking myself, I should instead blame him for everything he has done to me.
At the end of the day, he caused this, no amount of self-blame will help. Now instead of asking why me, or blaming myself for his behaviour, I choose to blame him.
I blame RYAN!
Thank you so much all of you who got this far, it’s a very long read today, and I very much appreciate it.
Em.
Bitter Trials
She can see the sadness of her new face,
It’s as visible as a tear on newly embroidered lace,
No matter how much she laughs and smiles,
The lady’s face still shows the bitter trials.
Her grief is standing by her side,
Some days she can take it in her stride,
To harness it within her own art,
Before it returns to rip her apart.
Waiting
I feel like I’ve just been waiting for everything, I wait to get pregnant, I wait to get better, and I just wait for my life to begin. Why do I wait? I think it’s because I’m scared to take the leap, I have many times after breakdowns, but it always ends up the same way. I jump in and end up worse off but how am I going to get better unless I take the steps?
It’s daunting that I am so scared to start living again, so scared to move forward, what if I have a breakdown again? But what if I don’t? Am I scared to go there because I could have a breakdown or am I scared of progress? I think the real answer is I am scared of everything when my life doesn’t go how I picture I seem to freeze.
Thoughts Against Talking
Today is Time to Talk Day which encourages everyone to talk about Mental Health or whatever is on there mind, this gets awareness out there as well as being great for acceptance on this issue. I thought I would dedicate today to those thoughts I have that hold me back from speaking my mind and try to understand them a little better.
No one will believe you
It’s safe to say that this is not a hard one to figure out, I have had a lot of people in my life not believe me, my fear of missing out turned into my parents accusing me of taking drugs, my breakdown led to drinking heavily as a cry for help but my parents wouldn’t believe the worst things my abusive ex did to me.Read More »
Trial by Media (Short Story)
Last night I went to write about the effects of seasonal affective disorder and this short story just flew right out of me. I’m not usually one to share this type of post or even writing short stories in the first place but I thought I would post this anyway as it seemed important to write about this from another perspective.
I hope it’s not too terrible.
