Dead. Dead, but breathing, to put it simply. I can feel myself deteriorating slowly from the inside. Emotionally, physically, mentally. I can feel it in my bones. At this point, I look into the mirror and I am terrified. Who the hell is that? Is that me?
I suppose I look like any other person. I suppose.
My insides are all sick and rot. Like bondage on my organs, the PTSD gets a tighter hold on me every single day. I can’t quite process what happened in August. I know what happened, but it all feels like a fever dream. Do I really have the right to be traumatized? Am I justified to be in this amount of pain? I constantly doubt it. I’m convinced that I’m overreacting. But… at the same time… I know that I’m not.
[Massive TW for abuse, blackmail, psychopathy, cycle of violence, forced self injury, doxxing]
He forced me to cut my face. Carve his name into my flesh. Purge on camera. Doxxed me. Made me apologize on video for God knows what reason. He knows everything there is to know about me. I live in constant fear. I have tactile hallucinations every day, it constantly feel like someone is watching me, and sometimes it feels like someone is breathing on my neck. He brainwashed me into loving him, the illusion was euphoric. He put me so low that when he brought me back up, it was a high that only he could give me. He threatened to do so many horrible things that I’d rather not get into. He convinced me that he was the only one who could possibly understand someone like me, that he was the only one who could ever truly love me. It was all a lie, but a beautiful one. I was in the cycle. Idealize, devalue, and discard. If anyone is interested in reading up on psychopathic abuse, I suggest “Psychopaths and Love” by Adelyn Birch (her website is a wonderful resource for people like me; http://psychopathsandlove.com ). I’d rather not get into the details of why, but eventually he did something that made me angry enough to sever from him (which was a VERY dangerous move on my part, considering the power he held over me. he still stalks me). I am still grieving… I lost something very dear to me… but my feelings are so incredibly conflicting. I love him. From the bottom of my weak heart. But I also feel great contempt for him and want to yell, and kick, and cry at him for everything he’s put me through. But, if something were to happen to him… I think I would vomit from the knot of confusion that would form in my stomach. I would be ecstatic, but equally devastated and thrown into despair.
why have I been born
merely to become a puppet?