Falling In Love with Abuse
I had the inclination to write a story-no rather share my story with you. The story was about my life with my son’s father-lets call him Shadow- and his abuse towards me. However, I find it difficult to share that, as it doesn’t have the same hatred it used to. When one survives something horrible, there is a feeling that resides in them that allows them to experience it again and again. Thus, when they retell the story, their emotion weighs heavy in their words. Mine did not. No matter how long or how short or how descriptive, I couldn’t quite capture it. There was certainly anger, but that isn’t what I wanted you to feel. So, I wrote what I thought I wanted and when I came to the end, I found it lacking. There was something that irritated me so much so I had to write a bit after it.
I finally understood what I wanted to share. I had separated from Shadow due to-I don’t know-complications? It wasn’t the abuse that made me leave him. It was spite over some affair he had with a woman from work. I can remember her name now only if I try but back then, I spat the name every-time I could. I used to be a very jealous individual. What’s mine is mine! I live on attention (probably why I’m starting this blog). Anyways, during the separation I kept contacting him. It was painful at first. I would get drunk and dial him. He’d answer and I’d cry. I’d yell. It was cringe-worthy to watch. It was worse to live through. I wanted to know why. I wanted to know what I had done to him for him to treat me that way. Why wasn’t I good enough? When I was sober, I’d randomly keep up my flirtatious attitude at times.
I was still living in Colorado at the time and there was the occasional need for a lustful night. I love sex. It was one of the many great things about Shadow. Sexual exploration had no bounds with that man. Soon it became a sort of payment. I would yell and act bat shit crazy and he would let me. He would listen. He would let me shout and cuss him out. And I would give my thanks by allowing him access to my body over and over again. It wasn’t until my second altercation with him that I broke. In my head, it was okay. Somehow, I’d get my revenge on him. I’d make him feel sorry. Then we’d get back together. Because, why not? I didn’t have a fucking logical thought in my head to help me. I tried therapy but I wanted them to pull shit out of me and that’s not how therapy works. Meanwhile, I’d have drinking binges at home. I wasn’t a complete alcoholic. I worked, tended to the kids, paid my bills, and drank. If you’ve ever laid in a body of water, floating, just watching the sky pass, that was pretty much what my life was.
I drifted from day to day; never really focusing on the life around me. I’m too afraid of drugs. I’m afraid of becoming addicted to something that can kill me. I didn’t know that it was true for men as well. I was addicted to Shadow. When I left, it was all really fast. I called my parents, said I’m coming home and packed up and left. Left a great job, a great apartment, and all the new friends I’d made. The next two years were horrible. I would have random panic attacks that I would share with Shadow. I would call him up and yell. I didn’t care what it was about. I tortured him. I hated him. I was really hurting myself. In my head, I thought ‘Fuck him, he deserves it. After everything I’ve fucking been through!’ Then I would text him with sexual texts and flirty pictures. It was a horrible cycle.
I was lucky to find a job quickly back in Chicago. In it I was exposed to a group of individuals that helped me heal wounds I didn’t even know I had. Up until meeting Shadow, I had never felt much emotions. I didn’t feel love, there was an attachment to my child but I wasn’t sure if it was love. I just figured, I must love my son since I gave birth to him. I felt indifferent about countless of things. Which, I didn’t think was normal. I knew how to fake such emotions but I didn’t know how to feel them. Finally, I thought it was a trick of the mind. If I allowed myself to feel it I would. When I met Shadow, I felt too much too fast. It was a roller coaster. I didn’t know what to do with the emotions or how to stop them. Especially when something hurt me, I didn’t know how to heal it. When you get a scratch or some sort of injury, there’s band aids, and medicine. When you have emotional and mental damage done, you have nothing but time.
I didn’t talk to my kids a lot. I didn’t know how to reprimand them. I didn’t know when to yell or when not to yell. I didn’t know anything other than go to work, come home and sleep. I wasn’t depressed but I wasn’t happy. I was floating. I didn’t know what to do with my life. I met a man, known as ‘Kneecaps’ to some, at my office and struck up an awkward office romance. I say awkward because he’s the “No Strings Attached” type of guy. He was getting over someone and I was getting over a mess. So, I ignored my life as a mother and as the woman I was to go gallivanting with this stranger. Every weekend I’d disappear in his condo and pretend nothing had ever gone wrong.
I didn’t want to face my kids. I didn’t want to face my parents. I didn’t want to face my life. It was truly awful. There are few memories you’ll never get back from your kids’ childhood. I wasted mine on sex, weed, and liquor. Even if I did have memories, they were erased with every drink I took. My son, Yoshi, was having a hard time in school. Maki kept wetting the bed. Kneecaps kept reminding me how disgusting having a family was. Shadow kept wanting to be more involved with Maki. I used his son against him. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted him to beg me. I wanted to hurt him still. I succeeded but I didn’t feel better. I still felt the pain and the hatred. I still played the memories over in my mind. It was like adding wood to a dying fire. My rage would blaze and consume everything in its path and just as it was dwindling away, it’d flare up again.
During an argument, he struck the final blow that released me. I had done something to him, you see, and that is how I won my first battle against him. As we argued, in his blind rage he said something to the equivalent of me not being ready for marriage. Which to those who don’t care about marriage would mean nothing. To those who don’t care much for Shadow, would say ‘Who cares.’ But I was still hoping for something romantic- you know a happy ending. When he said this, I realized how foolish I had been. How childish really and I let him go. I decided to work on myself, my kids, my family. So, now, two years away from Colorado, I’m finally at the beginning of where I want to be.
No one can tell you how to get over someone. No one knows exactly what you need to heal. You’ll need to be crazy and wild sometimes, especially when experiencing new things. I’ve learned the only way to get over something is to face it head on. I tried running away but I still couldn’t shake him. Maybe because I kept reaching out to him, right? I needed something from him. I didn’t know what it was until he gave it to me. I was in love with the pain because it made me feel. Feeling something made me think I was alive. Now, I know that I can feel alive with out it.
I’m better now. I’m moving back to Colorado soon. I have a healthy friendship with Shadow now. I chose to keep in touch with him. I wanted to make up for my mistakes and I wanted him to continue his relationship with my boys. They adore him. He is a caring father. It would have been easier to just keep him away. But I chose something that I was comfortable with. But domestic abuse-physical or not-should never be tolerated. If you require assistance please call 1−800−799−7233.