He said things would be different this time. He said if I just do this and I don’t do that, everything will be okay. He said if I would just stop questioning him and stop being so jealous he wouldn’t get angry anymore… He said all I want is you Baby, he said all he has ever wanted was me. I want to believe him so badly, he has this ability that makes me second guess everything I know to be true. I don’t want to fight anymore, I just want to be happy and to live a happy life together. I want to settle down in a little house together by the sea and grow veggies and lay in the sun. I just want a simple life and to be loved by the man I love so dearly.
This post is a recollection of an abuse cycle I lived through for five and a half years. With each cycle of abuse we would without fail reconcile, either by me caving into his relentless phone calls, text messages and emails or from him finally deciding to come home. However it occurred it was guaranteed to be intoxicating volatile and turbulent, as I fell back into his arms of fake promises once more. With each abuse cycle I would go into it hoping and wishing for our commitment to deepen and our promises to each other to be real. Over the course of the relationship, or some might say entanglement this cycle happened many times, so many in fact I can’t actually remember. I still find it hard to believe let alone admit, it’s embarrassing and something I struggle to sit with on my own.
With each cycle I went back, with each time we met up, with each time we made love, with each time we fucked the scale of abuse would increase and so would his deception. The abuse would kick into what I can only describe as super saturated control and he would crank everything up into overdrive. He would go between two extremes one that was either, so aggressive and forceful, putting me in immediate danger both physically and emotionally, or he would be abusing me so covertly through gaslighting that it was often too subtle for me to realise it was abuse. Both styles of abuse if I can call them styles were both just as soul destroying, oftentimes I felt completely lost. It was like my skin was gradually being torn from my body, only instead of my skin it was my my soul and complete essence.
I remember feeling like I was in a constant state of despair and desperation, I was holding on so tight, to him to life to my sanity and each time I was discarded, beaten or punished I wondered, if there was something about my behaviours, my personality, my looks that I could possibly alter to make him happy, to make life easier. What about me could I change, what could I do better, what could I be better at, can I look thinner, prettier, can I hold myself better, should I just allow the flirting, it wasn’t that bad that he would try to get every women alone with him even if I was within his eye view, it wasn’t that bad if he slept with other people without me knowing, the physical abuse wasn’t so bad, well not this time and besides I made him do it, he only does it because of his past, it’s not his fault for having anger issues after what happened to him as a child. He doesn’t mean to hurt me.
I loved him so deeply, and still to this day I find it so difficult to put into words the hurt you feel when you finally realise you were never loved back. Over five years of my life going back and forth, sleeping next to a man that was only with me because of what I gave him and how I made him feel. With all the control I allowed him to have and with all that he took, all the abuse he inflicted, including physical emotional psychological, spiritual and financial, I truly believe I must have made him feel like a God.
He saw me as his property, something to control, and as he continued to overtly and covertly control and puppeteer my every thought feeling and emotion, I slowly began to feel and recognise that my body and my mind was no longer mine. I was merely an instrument and he was orchestrating my every emotion playing me like a symphony. I knew in my heart of hearts he was nothing short of criminal and yet I did not know how to escape his grasp. So many things went on behind close doors and in time I will allow the coarse of events to unfold and be told.
Living with a psychopath was like living with complete mind fog wrapped in cognitive dissonance, holding steadfast in my denial. With each time I was sucked back into the madness once more and again I was accepting the familiar taunts of emotional abuse, including circular conversations, blame shifting and projections, and once more I began to take on the full responsibility for the abuse he was inflicting.
I was so blinded by our future faking promises of a life that never became real, that I allowed myself to be drawn in again and again only to be met with more control and more emotional and psychological abuse. It was nothing short of a slow process of identity annihilation and soul degradation, thinking about it now makes me feel sick to my stomach. How could someone you love, also be your enemy and your biggest fear, how could someone fake love so well, only to hurt you on a grand scale. Why would…? And how could…? Someone do that?
Psychopaths, Sociopaths and Narcissists are living among us, they look like you and me, and unless you are looking closely or experiencing an intimate partnered relationship with one, most of us in the general population would not recognise one. Why do they go unnoticed? Partly because we as a society have for the majority decided to put our blinkers on and ignore things that may not affect us directly. It has been my experience that unless we are directly suffering at the hands of someone’s abuse, we are not willing to acknowledge and accept that these people who are openly abusing their victims even exist.
Sadly I know my story is like so many others, please don’t let your story be the same, please wake up to the abuse. They NEVER EVER Change, they are not made that way.
All Words Written by Evelyn Wayde © 2019 – 2020