How it ended, pt 2-and How it feels when it does

I've lost dear ones who have passed away, I've been divorced from a non-disordered, and I've lost touch with people I've cared about. But nothing, NOTHING could prepare me for this kind of a "loss".

There’s nothing more frightening then emerging from some hypnotic coma to the fact that this man you’ve allowed in your life is disordered and will probably never get help. Getting him to love you is not the way out of it. Loving yourself is the way out of it. To break through the denial requires anger, and not caring anymore what he or anyone else thinks of that. It all hurts, and its so hard to come to terms with.

I was shell-shocked for a couple weeks, barely able to function, once it was all said and done. I couldn’t eat, sleep or think, really. I walked around in a daze. I looked around at other women-on the subway, in the grocery store and I wondered if they would’ve ever taken his crap. I really hated myself for not seeing it, or seeing it but not believing it. I smoked a lot, I drank a lot of wine. Didn’t talk to friends much. The ones I did-I think I scared a few.

I was incredibly tired. I broke out, I could hardly jump in the shower My hair began to fall out from the stress. I felt dissoacted from life, disconnected from people and like I was walking around in an alternate reality. I felt numb, and stressed. I couldn’t relax, rest or focus my attention on much of anything. I had muscle twitches and laid in bed not even being able to feel my body. My thinking was obsessed-all I could think about was what happened. My anger was intense. I wanted to keep coming at him, telling him off, telling him that I see it all now, and I wanted him to pay.

I then would sink into a depression of despair, hating myself for ever loving this man, wondering why I didn’t get out of it when I knew it was all true before. How was it that I would sink back into denial and continue to want to believe there was a normal human being there, albeit just very messed up? I was truly emotionally traumatized.

I know that I haven’t told my personal story here. Given some examples, but I don’t know if I have to. If this has happened to you, you know what story is. These men are shocking and horrific and its amazing that ANYONE can say and do the things that they do, just for effect, not concerned at all how it will make you feel. They learn something hurts you-and just rub your face in. You end up doing it back at him-and shame and hate for yourself creeps in. You’ve let yourself turn into him.

I’d look at people and wonder why they couldn’t see that someone had just chewed me up and spit me out. I’d see people laughing, I’d see friends on Facebook status inane and mundane shallow messages, and I’d feel even more alien, more hurt. I had no black eye, no missing tooth to express what he did to me.

If I mentioned the word “abuse” the first question was “OMG did he hit you?”-and when I said no, they seemed to dismiss it and not give it the merit that being hit would’ve. This hurt and angered me more. I’ve been defending myself against this asshole for some 5 years now, and now I have to defend and “prove” myself against the world.

There is much truth in the saying that unless you’ve been in a relationship with a personality disordered person-you will NEVER get it.

I hid, I withdrew. I couldn’t really carry on normal conversations with people, I couldn’t pretend I was just fine. No one knew, and no one seemed to care-mostly because, no one really knew that this guy was in my life, because he wasn’t presented to anyone as a boyfriend. I had almost wished I was married to him, only to be able to even prove a relationship really existed.

Physically, I had aches and pain, I cried a lot. I became just like him in that my paranoia about people-even friends I’ve had for years, became intense. I questioned everyone’s motives in my life and starting feeling that no one in my life really cared about me at all, and that I maybe ended up like this because I am the bad person. At times, I questioned my own sanity and wondered if I hadn't just taken it all wrong.

In many respects, it was like withdrawing from a drug, where you are literally sick, throwing up, nightmares, unable to function. It’s detox-and it’s not pretty.Many people will say that it's like coming out of a cult, and it's true.

Especially because you are doing it all alone-because you just can’t prove just how bad it’s all been. Alone and lonely in such an intense way it hurts. Which is a big reason I started this blog. I hope to spare even one person from thinking that no one out there could ever understand.

I do. After a period of mourning, I literally had to force myself to go on with my life. All the things I’ve neglected and other problems occurring in my life, had to be dealt with and I felt very much alone. I was, in a way-no one else could do this for me. I wanted to be saved, the same way I tried to save him-but I wasn’t that lucky. I had to stand on my own. Went pretty much cold turkey. I reached out to friends and forced myself to be social. I thought and contemplated about what to do with the rest of my life now-so much time spent wasted on him, ways to help him, I had neglected myself. What do I really want? What am I really doing?

I had to push thoughts of “Will I ever meet someone else again?” out of my mind, saying I’ll worry about it later, at the same time, being totally disgusted at the idea of a relationship. My mind couldn’t even fathom a “normal” relationship, as I’d look at couples out in public, listen to songs on the radio and wonder what it must be like to actually be loved, and wondering if I wasn’t so jaded now that I will never know that. Will I ever believe anyone ever again? Often I’d slip back into denial, where I’d start giving him the benefit of the doubt, wonder if I wasn’t being too harsh, wondering if I had taken it all the wrong way, wondering if I had acted different, would he had been different?

Of course he ignored any attempts at my communications and it only furthered his cause in making me look as though I had lost it, was crazy, stalking him and unable to accept and let go. EVEN THOUGH I ENDED IT.

I looked for support, therapy and to rebuild my shattered heart and scrambled mind. It helped a great deal. Domestic violence counselors will give you all kinds of handouts and “pie charts” that show the cycles of abuse and the minds of abusers, the tactics that they use. Even though you can come across that information yourself-there’s something incredibly healing In telling another person your story, and not only do they believe it, but they too tell you that there’s no doubt, you have been abused. You aren’t crazy.

That’s all you can do. Your life does go on….and should. I know that this can be so traumatic that it can lead you to thinking about ending your life. I don’t think abuse ends up killing women because the man literally kills her himself-I would bet that there are a lot more victims of domestic violence who have chosen to kill themselves as the way out, instead. Its not because you love him so much that you can’t live without him, its because the betrayal is so severe and the reality of dealing with someone truly insane and mentally ill is horrifying. The idea that someone never cared about you at all is heartbreaking and sickening. I know that those thoughts crept into my mind-and that’s when I knew that I was really, REALLY in trouble here. Especially if he’s isolated you in any way, you may not have much friends to go to, and the one’s you do have are also his. You can’t go there. But you can come here. And to other blogs and forums-there is help and support here.