Emotional Abuse

Let me start with the definition of emotional abuse. It is “any act including confinement, isolation, verbal assault, humiliation, intimidation, infantilization, or any other treatment which may diminish the sense of identity, dignity, and self-worth.” Now in my own experience it started when I was young and living with my grandparents. My grandfather was controlling, manipulative, and condescending. He would yell in my face about how worthless I was and how I was going to be pregnant in jail when I got older because I wasn’t listening to him or doing what he said I should. Never mind that he was molesting me, giving me books that weren’t appropriate, such as ‘how to tickle his pickle’, and had even been the one to introduce me to kink porn online. This continued for 4-5 years. When I finally left that environment, I didn’t realize the full extent of what I was put through or how it affected my mind. I started thinking that maybe I wasn’t good enough person to have happiness and maybe I didn’t deserve it because I couldn’t seem to do anything right.

At that point it was the idea or the seed that was planted but it still reflected in my behavior and thoughts even though it was just in the back of my mind. It grew, rotted, and festered until I had come to hate myself and everything that I did. It affected my behavior and in my relationships with people. I cut people out of my life because they seemed to be consumed by negativity. I stopped talking to loved ones because I didn’t want to burden them with my negative feelings, and I knew they couldn’t really help when even talking to a therapist didn’t help. I started being critical and harsh with myself. Nothing I did or said was ever good enough and it cemented in my mind because of what other people would say about me and the tones they would use to describe me. Some of the things that were said I knew weren’t true at all, but it was what was shown through my behavior and mannerisms.

My longest relationship was with a man who made it worse with his own criticisms until I didn’t know who I really was or what was right anymore. From the outside looking in I was a completely different person than who I am. He is a narcissist and he saw how messed up I was when we met. He started by showing me kindness and since I hadn’t experienced it in such a long time, I thought I felt something for him. Once he saw that, he did everything he could to get with me. Looking back at myself, I can’t believe how naïve and ignorant I was. For a time, I was happy because I thought I was finally with someone who understood and accepted me for who I was not what I seemed like I was. He then started telling me that it seemed like friends and family didn’t really want me around unless it was convenient for them, or they got something from me. He isolated me from them, so I was dependent on him. That’s when everything started going downhill quickly. He stopped helping me cook even though he had told me he loved cooking, stopped helping me clean so every time id come home from work, I’d have to clean everything, he'd tell me I wasn’t spending enough time at home, so I’d take time off work but then we weren’t making enough money, so I’d have to work more hours. Nothing was ever good enough for him. Hed tell my daughter one thing then tell me another. When we adopted a kitten, she was told to pick one out for her but after we had taken it home apparently it was supposed to be for me. Every time I’d confront him about anything I had a problem wit he always had an excuse that sounded reasonable. If there was something he wanted he had multiple reasons for getting it and if I still said no, he’d hound me about it until I said yes or he’d just get it anyway.

The final straw was after we got a dog. We went to his cousin’s place since they had a litter recently. We had a choice between a short-haired female or a long-haired male that we thought would be a good fit. I told him to pick it since it would be around him most of the time and I was figuring on it being trained to let people know when he was having seizures. I also told him he’d have to train it himself so it would follow his commands. He picked the male and I thought it was just because they were the same sex so he might’ve thought it would be easier to train, take care of, or even just because he felt outnumbered being the only male in the household. Apparently, I was wrong. After a little time passed for the dog to get settled, he admitted that he wanted the dog to have sex with me. When I voiced that I wasn’t comfortable with it he threw my own words back in my face reminding me that I’d told him” I was willing to try anything once.” It’s true that I had said that however I was referring to role-playing or light bondage when I had, not beastiality, as a way of spicing up the bedroom. Obviously, he wanted to go down a darker path than I was comfortable with, so I left him. When I did his family wasn’t happy with me and they showed me by snubbing me and saying awful things about me. His mother went so far as to tell my current boyfriend that she believed I had tried to sleep with her husband and her other son. I had also found out later that my ex had posted something about him walking in to find me having sex with the dog and him crying about it. I was so shocked when I heard that, I could feel my jaw drop and my eyes going round. I understand that he’s vindictive and spiteful but for him to be spreading so many lies about me blew my mind. After almost 10 years together, doing nothing but trying to help him as much as I did, and he says that about me. I guess it just shows how little he knew me.

After all this I feel mentally as well as emotionally broken and conveying this to my current boyfriend seems to have only worked so much. This wonderful man makes my very soul sing but he doesn’t seem to really understand how deeply I’m hurt. The voices that I hear from being yelled at for so long and my own insecurities don’t just go away because I want them to. It had gotten bad enough that I had thought maybe I was toxic without intending to be and about suicide before. I had thought that if I was gone it would make other people’s lives better. Despite just wanting to make others’ lives easier or better, it never seemed to work out that way. I’ve lost count of the number of people that have stopped talking to me for one reason or another. I know that no one really wants to be alone for the rest of their lives. Everyone wants someone to share their hopes, dreams, woes, and fears with. For good or bad people do change and not everyone that they knew before the change will keep in contact with them after the change.