To my love and my hate – a past letter from the aftermath of an abusive relationship

This was written just a couple days after the six month marker of my escape from V.

To my Love and my Hate,

I used to be so strong. The rock of every group that I was in. I was always the one to turn to in the darkest of situations. That’s who I used to be.

Do you know why I am not that person any more? Do you even care? Probably not, but I’m going to tell you anyway.

I took you under my wing. I tried to save you from your pain, from you fear, from your darkness. You told me that you were being abused. So I did everything I could. I dropped my entire world for you.

You used my compassion, and twisted it. You destroyed my reality, and put me in yours. You fucked with my head. You abused me. You r***ed me.

I tried to bring it up to you, we sat down and talked for hours. You half assed apologized, but mostly blew off what I said, and kept telling me what I was doing wrong. I could never do enough for you, no matter how hard I tried. You told me that I wasn’t doing anything, and that I needed to work at helping you.

Here’s what I gave up for you: I moved all the way across the country, to a place that I knew nothing about. I had no friends, no family, nobody I could turn to. I can’t tell you how uncomfortable that was. I moved my two children with us, away from all their family. I quit my job to move. I put every extra hour of my day into you. I did everything I could for you.

What did I get out of all of this? PTSD, flashbacks, night terrors worse than ever, body memories. I freak out around loud sounds, and if I have no escape route no matter the conversation, I get scared. I have a panic attack when I see you logged into yahoo! You don’t even have to be around, you can’t even see me on there, and yet, I still freak out. I’m literally afraid of you coming back, and seeing you. The thought of it terrifies me. I’m afraid to date again. I’m scared of everything now. There’s music I can’t listen to, music is my life, and you took a portion of that away from me. I can’t sleep. I’m barely eating. The lovely children that we conceived, I’m still trying to garner feelings for. They are victims of your abuse, whether you hurt them or not. I’m still isolated to an extent from my family, I don’t feel I can talk to them.

I told you so many times I didn’t want to. I was in TEARS for Christ sake, and instead of caring, you yelled at me. You gave me an ultimatum: either we had sex, or you would hurt yourself, you would run to your abuser, so you could get pregnant. Did you really think that was a choice? Of course I said yes after that. No I still didn’t want to do anything, but how was I going to let anybody hurt the girl I was in love with, even if it was you?

I’m dying inside, and I don’t know how to stop it. You destroyed me, and I can’t gain a foothold back. I lost myself and my reality. I have a hard time playing my favorite types of music, because I’m afraid someone will yell at me, even when no one is around.

I’m completely shattered. Is this what you think love is? Is this how it’s supposed to go? I can’t actually talk to you. I wish I could know, what was going on in your head. Though, if I were to ask, you would probably just yell at me. That’s what you did any time I tried to talk about it. It was always my fault. I could do nothing right by you. I tried, I really did, and if you think that I didn’t, then that is possibly the biggest lie you’ve ever told yourself.

I wish I could get you out of my head…
Your shattered baby girl

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