I can't remember when, but at some point in my life I decided I was worth less, not worthless, but worth less. I can remember when I reached my teen years I looked at myself in the mirror and decided I was ugly. I never gave it much thought before then, I was too busy building a treehouse, climbing trees and playing in the woods.
I have heard it said you get involved with someone who reinforces your belief about yourself. It turned out to be true in my case. I should have known from the beginning. Not too long after he and I got involved he got drunk. I did not want to ride in the car, with him behind the wheel. I walked away, he chased me and kicked me. I ended up getting in that car.
It was intermittent then, the abuse. He could be nice to me. As the time wore on though he got crazier and crazier. Accused me of things I did not do, like moving the mirror on his truck. When I digressed and said I had not done it, he sawed the window handle off, so I could not roll down the window.
I felt like I was walking on egg shells. I could not do anything right. If he was not feeling well and I asked him if he was o.k. he would scream at me, if he was not feeling well and I did not ask if he was o.k., he would scream at me that I did not care about him.
Most times the abuse was mental, but sometimes it became physical, like when he choked me. Knocked me down and choked me. The only thing that saved me was someone intervened. Why I had stayed so long I have no idea.
One day the proverbial straw that snapped the camel's back happened. He was screaming at me as always. I had taken a few dollars out of his wallet for some eggs and milk, that was my crime. I retreated into the bedroom and lay on the bed, crying all day. I knew in my heart is was over and I had to get out.
The break came not long after that. I had found a place to move to, but it would not be ready for a month. One day I came home and he was not there. He came home shortly after I did, at first he was nice to me. Then he called me a whore and offered me twenty dollars to have sex with him. I said, no. He came in the room and ripped his penis out of his pants and thrust it in my face. I was so scared that he was going to rape me that when the opportunity came and there was an opening, I jumped up, grabbed my shoes and keys and ran for the door. I got to my car and got away. I was driving around, crying, and I drove my parent's grave and sat on it. I knew when I got up I was going to the police and report the assault.
It was the hardest thing I have ever done. Was I sad? Sure I was.I had days I did not want to wake up. My identity had become so intertwined with his I felt lost in the world, floating in space.
I read The Analogy of the Cave by Plato. For the first time I began to understand. I was the one chained in the cave, with only shadows of light. I had closed my eyes to the abuse to deal with it. I came to realize for the first time in my life there was a difference between loving someone and being in love with them. I had loved him, but I was never in love with him.
Today I am in a better place. I go to college, I go to the gym, I write, I work, I live. I finally realized I have to be the one who values myself. Sometimes it is still hard because I hear those old records playing in my head, but I am not listening anymore. I do have value, whether anyone else believes it or not, I believe it. I no longer live in that cave, chained up, I am free.
I have heard it said you get involved with someone who reinforces your belief about yourself. It turned out to be true in my case. I should have known from the beginning. Not too long after he and I got involved he got drunk. I did not want to ride in the car, with him behind the wheel. I walked away, he chased me and kicked me. I ended up getting in that car.
It was intermittent then, the abuse. He could be nice to me. As the time wore on though he got crazier and crazier. Accused me of things I did not do, like moving the mirror on his truck. When I digressed and said I had not done it, he sawed the window handle off, so I could not roll down the window.
I felt like I was walking on egg shells. I could not do anything right. If he was not feeling well and I asked him if he was o.k. he would scream at me, if he was not feeling well and I did not ask if he was o.k., he would scream at me that I did not care about him.
Most times the abuse was mental, but sometimes it became physical, like when he choked me. Knocked me down and choked me. The only thing that saved me was someone intervened. Why I had stayed so long I have no idea.
One day the proverbial straw that snapped the camel's back happened. He was screaming at me as always. I had taken a few dollars out of his wallet for some eggs and milk, that was my crime. I retreated into the bedroom and lay on the bed, crying all day. I knew in my heart is was over and I had to get out.
The break came not long after that. I had found a place to move to, but it would not be ready for a month. One day I came home and he was not there. He came home shortly after I did, at first he was nice to me. Then he called me a whore and offered me twenty dollars to have sex with him. I said, no. He came in the room and ripped his penis out of his pants and thrust it in my face. I was so scared that he was going to rape me that when the opportunity came and there was an opening, I jumped up, grabbed my shoes and keys and ran for the door. I got to my car and got away. I was driving around, crying, and I drove my parent's grave and sat on it. I knew when I got up I was going to the police and report the assault.
It was the hardest thing I have ever done. Was I sad? Sure I was.I had days I did not want to wake up. My identity had become so intertwined with his I felt lost in the world, floating in space.
I read The Analogy of the Cave by Plato. For the first time I began to understand. I was the one chained in the cave, with only shadows of light. I had closed my eyes to the abuse to deal with it. I came to realize for the first time in my life there was a difference between loving someone and being in love with them. I had loved him, but I was never in love with him.
Today I am in a better place. I go to college, I go to the gym, I write, I work, I live. I finally realized I have to be the one who values myself. Sometimes it is still hard because I hear those old records playing in my head, but I am not listening anymore. I do have value, whether anyone else believes it or not, I believe it. I no longer live in that cave, chained up, I am free.
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