I lived through so much of this chapter. XAH blamed me for everything.
I remember, towards the end, he screamed in my face that I couldn't leave him - I 'owed' him since he didn't leave me when I first got depression and should stay until he said so.
I was so lost... Damn this is really hard to write about - really painful stuff. I thought he loved me. HE confused love with control. I thought he was looking out for both of us, he was just looking out for him and making sure I did what he wanted.
I believed I was a bitch. That there was something inherently wrong with me which is why I didn't have many friends. To be honest, though, this was first planted in my head by my father and XAH played on it, subtly, and kept me focused on him - AND I LET HIM.
How could I have lost myself? Why did I try and keep him happy when the more I did the more he wanted. He talked the equality talk but his actions didn't echo it.
He couldn't even let me make really simple decisions without trying to mess with my mind. For example, ordering take out I told him what I wanted. He questioned it, for some reason. Didn't I get that the last time? Wouldn't I like something different? How about this instead? All under the pretence that he was making sure I got what I really wanted! It was all about control. I see that now. But at the time I was confused and unsure and thought that maybe he did know better than me. I also thought he did this without realising it, that he was just trying to help. But it was a power game with him and I just didn't see it.
I still get angry with myself about this sometimes. I was with him 18 years. How could I have been so blind? But he was sneaky, subtle.
My dad's form of abuse was much more direct - I'm your father and I know best type of thing. His main thing was controlling my mum, using the kids as a means to an end. Although the more I think about it, he used my mum as a way of controlling us too. Damn. I never stood a chance did I?
I just wasn't prepared for XAH's type of knowing cunning. I was way too trusting and I doubt I will ever trust anyone so completely ever again. I still find it hard to grasp the sense of entitlement that goes with this mindset. I find it hard to accept he was an abuser, but he was. I find it difficult to believe just how much power I gave him over me without even realising it. It makes me scared to get close to anyone now.
Looking back at my childhood, I knew my dad was abusive to my mum, it's only now I realise just how abusive to me and, to a lesser extent, my brother he was. He blamed us for a lot and he too screamed in my face during my parent's breakup telling me the divorce was all my fault. It made me feel so guilty for feeling glad he was gone because my mum was so hurt, like it was my fault and I failed to protect her properly. Looking back at my childhood like this has put a whole different perspective on my life and I don't know what to do with it. I'm struggling a little here.
Anyway, enough about me. Can anyone out there empathise?