The funny thing is when I talk to my friends or family about what I'm going through they just don't get it. Everyone just tells me to "forget" about him. Being in a relationship and breaking up with an A is unlike anything a person could experience and you really cannot get it unless you've lived it. Breaking up with a normal person is so much easier because at least you can say the two of you had some good times and that he or she once loved you, but the two of you just grew out of love. Forgetting an abusive relationship is like forgetting about being raped over and over again or something on that level. How could you ever forget something like that?? Its like burned into you forever with an iron rod. Knowing that I was basically treated like an animal or worse will make my stomach sick for a long time. Looking back mine was seriously mentally ill or how else could he have taken things to the level that he did without blinking an eye. Looking back he was on the level of a sociopath or narcisist or something in that same group. Seriously.
This sounds horrible but I have never admitted this before. I feel like he was a male escort to me not a boyfriend. I paid for everything that we did and he came along for the free ride, he was mentally and emotionally absent, no extra love, distant and he was basically free to come and go as he pleased. I would put up a fight but it never mattered. I labeled him my "boyfriend" but he was no more than a stranger that I financially supported and took care of like a child. He was in my life but it came at a high price-I had to give give and give some more. Whether that was money and just plain caretaking, I had to give to pay him off. For what? Simply his presence. And if I didn't give, well the bottle would be right there for him to run to. He got drunk and I had to be the boyfriend and girlfriend in the relationship. I was alone and I was the only one out of the two of us that cared. If I didn't care then who would because he didn't do anything to keep us afloat? He was as good to me as a peice of furniture or a plant-he was useless. I didn't mean anything to him but a warm body that he used to avoid hitting his bottom. Writing that makes me want to cry.