Edit: Apparently Ive Already Reblogged This. I Suppose That Speaks To How Bang On It Is.

Edit:  Apparently I’ve already reblogged this.  I suppose that speaks to how bang on it is.

How It Feels

Part II: Emotionally Abusive Relationships

Picture the shittiest customer service job you’ve ever had. Customers are constant and you’re so overwhelmed you can’t think about yourself at all. Your personal life, your bodily needs (you don’t even get a lunch break; when was the last time you had water?) or your emotions. 

You’re expected to perform perfectly and to always keep a smile on your face, no matter what. You need to be polite and accommodating even if people are screaming at you, and even if people threaten you for no reason. 

Your boss thinks you’re an idiot and is constantly condescending and patronizing. He explains your own job to you and implies you’re incompetent, but to avoid offending him, you can’t defend yourself, you can only thank him for his ‘advice.’ He can snap at any minute and fire you, and you need the job desperately, because he has all kinds of contacts and influences in the community and will make sure no one ever hires you again. He makes it very clear that he owns you, but would never say so outright. 

You are not allowed to talk to anyone about how bad this job is, under contract. He considers it unprofessional and a threat to the success of his company, and has threatened to sue if any employees quit and talk about the reasons they quit. He has the power to make your life even worse than it is now. 

But outside the workplace, your boss is known as a philanthropist. He is generous and charismatic, and everyone constantly reminds you how lucky you are for getting the job. 

Now picture that feeling not just at work, but everywhere. This environment is your home. This person sleeps in your bed. They go everywhere with you, or demand you check in all the time. They know all your passwords. They look through your search history. They have access to everything you know and have and are. 

You still have to be polite, accommodating, apologetic, understanding, thankful. You still have to keep smiling.

Silly things I was not allowed to keep on my person ( off the top of my head):

A hair elastic on my wrist.

A purse (but he'd be so angry if I wasn't wearing one and he needed me to hold his stuff.)

A jacket when he thought it was too warm.

A sweater when I said he kept the ac too high in the summer.

Sandals.

Things he required me to have:

Tame, managed hair in all potential scenarios.

A purse, but only when he needed me to hold something and I needed to anticipate that before we left. Somehow.

A jacket in case it got cool. He didn't want to have to hear me complain.

Money for the extra hydro bill in the summer when i made him turn the ac so low.

High heel sandals.

you do things despite feeling afraid. you get out of bed when your mind aches. you ask for help when you need it and try not to stay inside all day. you try to talk yourself out of bad choices. you search for the good things and beauty that are hard to notice. you tell yourself that things will get better, despite feeling otherwise. you treat yourself gently, even though you’re never far from wanting to return to square one. you try your best despite feeling tired. you’ve come a long way from where you started. you want to heal and you’re getting there. that’s something to be proud of.

I was off for a few months owing to covid. It was the first time I have taken an extended breath since I was a teenager.

It gave the trauma time to catch up to me. I feel it all. I am so damn tired.

He did not understand sentimental value. I keep little things that people give me or that remind me of special times.

Some people keep pictures in this way. These things are fabrics in the tapestry of your history But not to him. Junk. Hoarding. Wasting space.

His mom gave him old pictures of him and his family. He didn't care and was really angry when I insisted we keep them. So he made me hold on to them, and here I am still holding on to them out of guilt.

These things are all sacred. I am having such a terrible time trying to throw them out.

My Own Worst Enemy

Every day some part of me wishes I could go back in a time machine or something.  Not just to the day that I met him, but long before that - maybe to the age of 8 or 9.

If I changed some decisions, maybe my self worth would have been healthy when I met him. Maybe his smooth-talking wouldn’t have hooked and dragged me in.  Maybe I would have felt like I deserved more that a boy who told me I was pretty but made me feel unbalanced all the time. 

Perhaps then I’d be sitting here working confidently and not steeping in self doubt.