Why Does He Do That
I knew it wasn't going to be easy escaping the situation I was in. For it was the situation that shaped me and also changed me so dramatically. I fell violently disfigured from the whole situation. But nobody knew that. You couldn't tell by looking at me that I was a vessel for trauma. A vessel for his wayward emotions of hate and hostility. I drew it within like this nervous ball of energy. A ball of energy that was scorching and far too hot to hold so I buried it inside of me.
Every time I felt happiness, I also felt him trying to drain that from me. I had to understand my happiness was his anger. How dare I be happy when he felt so miserable inside. I started to become so afraid of his reactions to my mood that I had to turn to stone. No emotions, no movement, no signs that could indicate that there was any emotion in me left to feed on.
That's the thing with severely disturbed individuals. Once they hone in on you with very little insight into who they are their rage would become explosive. I can't explain to you the frightening joy he had when I did cry. When I cried his reactions made him useful. He had a purpose. Something he felt others tried to take away from him his whole life. But you see the danger here was that I felt somehow responsible to help. Because I understood I should be able to fix this man.
The truth though is that I couldn't fix him. The more I tried, the more intwined I got into his world. This was a man that felt power in having control over the vulnerable. So for me to stay in his life I had to always be weak and vulnerable. Any sign that I could be growing strong enough to walk away was a a sign that he needed to knock me down again. It was exhausting living like this on a daily basis.
I realised that if I was to be rid of him I had to give the illusion that I would never be able to function again. I couldn't go another round not because I wasn't strong enough, but because I hated the way that he turned me into some stone pillar emotionally. By the end of the most horrific emotional abuse I couldn't cry or feel happiness. I was frozen in that moment and nothing could melt away the exterior that kept me together and non reactive.
I had to break myself down. I had to dismantle what I'd become. It was a "had to" because I'd lost the ability to express and enjoy all that human emotion carries. I wanted to cry. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to have a life outside being someone's human stress ball. I felt crushed by the weight and responsibility I had in that role.
I realise now that still he must control me. I withdrew for a very long time so he couldn't feed off my emotion and vulnerability. Vulnerability is one of the most key components to healing yourself after abuse. Vulnerability takes courage and a safe place to do so. If I'd let him see my vulnerability at my weakest point he knew every move to push me back into a hole. I couldn't let that happen. So I went away. Underground as such. I did things that were simple but joyous. I did things that made me feel human again.
The most powerful thing I did when I felt stronger though was turning up to court. Not looking like a mess. But looking happy. Looking bright. Most importantly looking alive. I know that he may have one a part of that custody battle but he felt he lost by seeing me not dead but alive. The next move he always makes about people who live their life privately and joyously is controlling the information about them. He would not have told anyone that I looked beautiful and a live. He would have told them the complete opposite that gave the impression that he defeated this mythical enemy he created.
The thing is I didn't want anything from him. I wanted to leave. I wanted life back. But he wasn't going to let me leave with dignity. It's the old adage if he couldn't have me no one could. The final piece in that of controlling the information about who I was was the last resort because he knew that everything he did so far hadn't killed me. I survived something he never could. That's why he abuses.
Every time I felt happiness, I also felt him trying to drain that from me. I had to understand my happiness was his anger. How dare I be happy when he felt so miserable inside. I started to become so afraid of his reactions to my mood that I had to turn to stone. No emotions, no movement, no signs that could indicate that there was any emotion in me left to feed on.
That's the thing with severely disturbed individuals. Once they hone in on you with very little insight into who they are their rage would become explosive. I can't explain to you the frightening joy he had when I did cry. When I cried his reactions made him useful. He had a purpose. Something he felt others tried to take away from him his whole life. But you see the danger here was that I felt somehow responsible to help. Because I understood I should be able to fix this man.
The truth though is that I couldn't fix him. The more I tried, the more intwined I got into his world. This was a man that felt power in having control over the vulnerable. So for me to stay in his life I had to always be weak and vulnerable. Any sign that I could be growing strong enough to walk away was a a sign that he needed to knock me down again. It was exhausting living like this on a daily basis.
I realised that if I was to be rid of him I had to give the illusion that I would never be able to function again. I couldn't go another round not because I wasn't strong enough, but because I hated the way that he turned me into some stone pillar emotionally. By the end of the most horrific emotional abuse I couldn't cry or feel happiness. I was frozen in that moment and nothing could melt away the exterior that kept me together and non reactive.
I had to break myself down. I had to dismantle what I'd become. It was a "had to" because I'd lost the ability to express and enjoy all that human emotion carries. I wanted to cry. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to have a life outside being someone's human stress ball. I felt crushed by the weight and responsibility I had in that role.
I realise now that still he must control me. I withdrew for a very long time so he couldn't feed off my emotion and vulnerability. Vulnerability is one of the most key components to healing yourself after abuse. Vulnerability takes courage and a safe place to do so. If I'd let him see my vulnerability at my weakest point he knew every move to push me back into a hole. I couldn't let that happen. So I went away. Underground as such. I did things that were simple but joyous. I did things that made me feel human again.
The most powerful thing I did when I felt stronger though was turning up to court. Not looking like a mess. But looking happy. Looking bright. Most importantly looking alive. I know that he may have one a part of that custody battle but he felt he lost by seeing me not dead but alive. The next move he always makes about people who live their life privately and joyously is controlling the information about them. He would not have told anyone that I looked beautiful and a live. He would have told them the complete opposite that gave the impression that he defeated this mythical enemy he created.
The thing is I didn't want anything from him. I wanted to leave. I wanted life back. But he wasn't going to let me leave with dignity. It's the old adage if he couldn't have me no one could. The final piece in that of controlling the information about who I was was the last resort because he knew that everything he did so far hadn't killed me. I survived something he never could. That's why he abuses.
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