Di.

I need a way. I need away. I need to go away. Well, I need him to go away.   I’m tired of this fragmented life.  I’m tired of the panic attacks (I didn’t even realize that’s what they were until a couple weeks ago…)   I should be able to shop alone without freaking…

Pass.

So….  I’m still sorry about the sporadic posting.  The truth is that it is so bad, I can’t even think long enough to say it.  The words sound so childish.  I feel like I’m watching it. I smiled as I handed him the sandwich he demanded this morning.  He yelled at me and told me…

I’m.

“How are you” It’s too bad I can’t just tell the truth. “Didn’t kill myself yet, so that’s something.” But you can’t burden people with that.  You can’t say the truth.  So you rage about the crap you can control and you try to hold all the cards together.  You try to be the light…

Bi.

Well this morning I got to wake up to “You dumped the kitchen on me like this and I’m not doing it, you need to get up and make biscuits and gravy”. The follow up (hours later, after letting him sleep like the little bitch teenager he is) “I didn’t do anything wrong, you were…

Bombarded.

Suicide.  I’m two miles out.  I look down.  If I jump here, I’m stuck in that stuff.  I would probably suffocate and die before anyone got here to help me.  I’m not sure they could help me.  It’s too mucky. And why? I wasn’t lonely.  I was alone, gleefully, for the first time in months….

Exist.

I hate that people are protesting so much.  Every chance they get they protest.  I hate the way the world is. I don’t understand how this will help. I want to bow out. Everyone should have equal rights.  I should have a right to not get called names because of my values.  Why do I…

Shady.

So I found some evidence that he was looking for a lawyer the other day. He’s done a lot to really alienate me and belittle me over the last few weeks.  Lots of gaslighting and all around hurtful behavior into the typical manipulation, lies and awful, degradation.  The humiliation is the worst.  Every joke ends…

Convoluted.

You know abusers often accuse their victims of abuse. When he accuses me of abuse I can’t decide whether to laugh or cry.  What if a third party would see me as the abuser?  If an impartial view of our situation was possible, who would be right?  If you could see our hearts, is mine…

Society

Hard-ish work. Funny-ish me. Exhausted. Cranky. Lonely. Ignorable, invisible, tired of being treated like crap. I’m willing to change – I just don’t know how. I wish I had written less, but I keep holding out hope that sometime someone is going to realize that I exist. Probably not.

Voiceless.

When you don’t have a voice, but no one notices or tries to help. You kinda wish they would all just go to hell already – or you could at least die. But you don’t die, because life goes on. So you put on your clown face, and no one notices that you are faking it, cause you are that damned good. Lucky me.

Meet2

I met him. I’m not even sure when.  I guess I could have met him briefly when I was 15, but recently I met him when I was 18.  It was the spring of my senior year.  In running start, he was in my logic class at college.  I figured I was graduating soon and…