A little angry

This is a really hard thing for me to talk about, I’ve started several blog posts over the last week. Some in my head, some out on paper or on here. I keep deleting them. My head is swirling from the last few weeks and the amount of bullshit that’s happened. There has been a lot of break-throughs and realizations, but it has been really fucking hard.

One of the things that is pissing me off in my recovery from abuse is when other people question or attempt to invalidate my healing or my experience. For well over half to three quarters of my life I was in a very emotionally/mentally abusive situation full-time. Among other things it was full of neglect, controlling, gas-lighting, insulting, invalidating and isolation. It took away my ability to trust myself or even know who I was, it took away my ability to feel safe, they made me doubt my own eyes and ears, they taught me my feelings didn’t matter, that I wasn’t worthy, that I was less important than everyone around me. They ruined my fucking childhood and part of my adult life, they took my own life and mind away from me. They taught me that I wasn’t lovable, that I would never be, and they made me feel crazy. So I did what felt impossible, it felt like it was going to kill me and break me, I stood up to them and said something about it, and after around twenty five years I ended the abuse. (realizing this is like 90% of my life, I can math..shut up :p ) I guess part of me thought the hardest part was done, I stood up to them the abuse was done so I’m done right? Hilarious, no. No it wasn’t done, I still had to(have to, its a long journey) sift through all of my emotions around it, I had to unlearn everything they spent so long teaching me, I had to go through wave after wave of grief that they chose not to heal themselves to keep me in their lives, that my mother didn’t really love me the way I always wanted her to, and now she never would. I had memories come back and for the past two years I have been fighting at healing this tirelessly, every single day. I have made some pretty massive strides and actually do feel myself for the first time. I can stand up for myself now (which has actually turned out to be a problem for some folks), I can handle emergency situations alone, I can do things that scare me, and I can express anger. I fell in love, and I let them in. It was scary as hell, especially at the start, but the person I fell in love with is the kindest most patient and compassionate person I have ever met, and he had my back the whole time. We are poly and we are very happy, and both feel really lucky. But falling in love meant feeling what love was for the first time in a very long time. It was awkward and uncomfortable, I questioned myself with it because it felt too easy and unpainful…I then thought “wait a second, if this is love….what was that” and had the physical realization that they (abusers/ex-fam) didn’t love me. Although I could have logically thought that, I felt very real proof that they didn’t and oof did that ever hurt. Another thing that happened, as my therapist described it, is that my brain/heart/body felt safe for the first time in a very long time and memory after memory started coming up. It was really fucking difficult. I came to the realization that I was neglected in a lot of ways. I felt all of this every single time it came up, I felt so much pain and grief that I felt like I was drowning again and again. I still do a lot, but like always I’m taking it one day at a time. **Just realized I went on a tangent, I’ll get back to my main point now** Amidst all of this hell, I’m trying to learn to trust myself, my own opinions, my importance, my perspective and all this shit. And when some ass swoops in and tells me that they don’t believe me, they don’t think emotional abuse is a big deal, or acts like I should function as someone who didn’t go through it just blows me the fuck away. Its extremely rude and damaging, as someone who just has spent so much energy trying to heal all of this, work hard at ungaslighting myself and feeling worthy when someone comes in and says “you know, I always really loved your mom/sis/grandma” or “she was always really nice to me” or “you know, she probably did really love you”. You fuck right off right now, those are not kind things to say. You are telling someone who has just gone through hell, who’s holding on by the skin of their teeth, who has been taught NOT to trust their own brain that their experience is not valid.

Whew, see there was some anger. But am I ashamed of it? No because anger isn’t a bad emotion or a bad word. And you know what? I am angry! I am angry at my abusers for treating me the way they did. I am angry at them for not taking care of me, or listening to me, not taking the time to ever see me. I am angry that to this day they are gas-lighting me and acting like I am crazy and making this all up, like all of this proof I have doesn’t exist, like its okay to treat people like dirt. I am angry at the people who I thought were my friends and didn’t have my back. I am angry at the people who talked to me like my experience wasn’t valid or real. I am angry at all of the people who took advantage of me and treated me poorly. Fuck em.

That’s all I gotta say today.

I mean no, there’s tons more I want to get into but I am not feeling like I’d be able to do it justice at the moment.

Thanks for holding space for me, and for reading.