Pleas note- further to this post I have been threatened with legal action. He has accused me of crazy stuff, I’m not worried though. I can disprove all of it.
It’s been a year. I have written this blog 5/6 times now and not hit the “publish” button. It just didn’t feel right. They were too full of hurt and anger, of me trying to prove something, validate my feelings and experience.
I don’t need to do that. I don’t need to list all twisted, manipulative and evil things he did, not only to myself and my children, but to my dad, the women before me, the ones who have followed. I don’t need to continue to tell that tale of woe. My story is one of bravery, strength and determination, not damage, broken-heartedness and victimisation.
The text above was my moment of clarity after 8 months of being belittled, bullied, cheated on. It was the moment I said “no fucking more, it isn’t me, it’s him”. That’s not to say it was a simple, trajectory to where I now find myself. That that text had me kicking that man to the kerb while Beyoncé played single ladies- god no! The smashed windows were just the start of an incredibly messy, complicated and difficult journey out of the grips of a narcissist.
Leaving a narc is never simple. They are charming, intelligent. They learn your old wounds early on and pick pick pick them open. Only they are also the saviour, the one who offers the sticking plaster. They know exactly which scabs to knock off, and at what time, to illicit a reaction. They know exactly what to say to reel you back in.
I never understood why people stay. Until I became the person who did. It’s two fold. First of all you love this person, well, you love the person they presented themselves as, the person they show you when they are love bombing you. When they are trying to win you around AFTER abusing you. Secondly, it’s this crazy, psychological thing called a “Trauma bond”. Boy, can I clearly see that now!
“Trauma, fear and abandonment actually increase feelings of attachment. The more you have been hurt by him, the more intensely attached you will be. Trauma bonds are hard to break but even harder to live with.” https://broxtowewomensproject.org.uk/trauma-bonding.
He very quickly figured out that I needed security. I needed to feel grounded and on solid footing. I grew up in a rather shouty house, my father an alcoholic, I had a constant feeling of impending doom, even during the good times a binge and a blow out often felt like it was just around the corner. His behaviour replicated that of a binge drinker, except his “fix” wasn’t alcohol, it was drama, attention and fawning.
When we first spoke about my dropping out of the house I was buying on my own and buying a place together I told him that my biggest fear was that I wouldn’t feel like it was “mine”. I look back now and see how he used that fear to control and manipulate me. It was always “his” house. If I ever tried to tell him how I felt about anything he would threaten to sell the house. This would send me into a complete, “him” pleasing, tail spin. I would write him letters apologising for making his life hell. I would tell him what a bad mother I was, how awful my children are. Texts, letters, words which he now uses to “prove” what a victim he was to anyone who will listen. Especially women. He needs women in order to thrive.
It’s funny though, how easily I was broken. It was my bloody house too! I paid 50% of everything. I provided the majority of the kitchen stuff, paid for the new bathroom, the furniture. I cleaned it, not him, he rarely lifted a finger in that respect. I decorated it, paid for the paint. Spent hours stripping wallpaper while he was out cycling. If my children needed anything it was me who provided it, this included food for their packed lunches- for they were not allowed food from “his” draw, despite it being paid for with my money, and his “boys” (grown arse men) however, could help themselves.
This is coercive control. This is abuse. To use someone’s biggest fears to get them to do what you want. It’s not a flying fist, or a hot coffee in the face (although I had one of those too) but it’s incredibly important, especially for those who work in roles where identifying abuse can literally save a life, a midwife or nurse for example, to understand just how damaging this can be. Emotional abuse is not just a toxic relationship, I can have on heart say that I did nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing. I was 100% a victim of abuse. Dismissing me because he didn’t physically hurt me is incredibly dangerous. It WOULD have escalated, he has a history of it doing so, he threatened me often enough for me to be scared of him. To feel like I needed to escape. To keep a record of everything.
He also knew I was a rape victim. I’ve not written about the most disgusting thing he did to me, because I think it will be incredibly triggering for other rape survivors to read- which is exactly why he did it, it was planned, it was evil and it was designed to downplay and degrade my rape. To use it against. I left that encounter confused as to what had just happened. The reality is that he is just a sick fuck who used one of the most painful events in my life to hurt me. May he rot in hell for that. He needs to be locked up for even thinking that up. Evil, twisted bastard. He weaponised intimacy as standard, but this was whole other level narc shit.
Edit to above . Trigger warning. we were in bed. I started touching him sexually, he said “I’m going to make a mess of your hands if you carry on”. I took this very much as consent. I straddled him. As I lent down to kiss him he kept moving his head away from me- making a big show of it. Refusing to touch me. I went to get off, to stop the interaction. He grabbed hold of my hips, hard, thrusted and came. I got off and he rolled over and turned his back on me. I lay crying all night. He said “stop that noise or we are done”. The next morning he was making coffee downstairs. I went into the kitchen and he said “how hard did I come in you last night”. I became upset and said how I had found the encounter weird. He replied “I didn’t want to have sex with you last night and you made me. Of course I was going up get something out of it”. I felt degraded, like he wanted to make me feel like a rapist. Like my previous experience had been used against me. It was sociopathic. The most evil, manipulative thing I have ever experienced. I have decided to report this, and the other stuff, to the police. A man who does this is not normal- and actually, consent was very clearly withdrawn. Maybe that’s why it plays on my mind so much? Because of that?
So anyway- a year ago today I discovered so much. The lies, the cheating, the abuse became apparent. But it didn’t end that day. Then we had the post coercive control. Thousands and thousands of phone calls- in both directions. Thousands of texts. Always the same. Promising to change, declaring how much he loved me, my children. I was so consumed by it, by him. I should have just hit block, but he was telling me the things I wanted to hear. I felt almost powerful, like after months of me feeling like I had to change for him, beg him to love me- the boot was on the other foot. I held the cards. It was of course just part of his plan, of the act. It was actually just more manipulative bullshit from a master manipulator.
I met him for coffee, I sat on his knee in the pub and kissed him. I let him comfort me as I cried from the impacts of the abuse. He sent me hundreds of begging texts, 100s, saying I was the only woman he wanted, apologising “
I am sorry I abused you”
The punchline to these texts? The ones telling me that if I dated anyone else, dare have a man in the house, even a friend? Then he would drop out of buying my share of the house, losing the home I had my heart set on for my children? The texts telling me he couldn’t handle the idea of ever being with another women? Even begging me to marry him? The absolute hilarious punch line? He was already very much in a relationship with someone else 😂 yep. He began a relationship with S on the 20th of April. I’ve spoken to her. Her opinion of him is probably about in par with mine (seeing a theme here, we can’t ALL be mad 🤪) he was in Edinburgh on holiday with her while begging me to marry him.
It’s what the narcissist does. There is always new fuel waiting in the wings. I wonder how he would have explained that? Had I said “ok, I love you. Let’s try again”. How would he have explained that he had been seeing another woman while begging for forgiveness? He had told her I was mentally ill- slitting my wrists, just like he told me his ex wife was abusive that his ex girlfriend was needy, controlling and insecure. Another was mental.. how long before he realises that he is the common denominator? I genuinely think he lies that much that he has no idea what the actual truth is.
When I finally did hit “block”, after I left the house, moved into my own. I genuinely thought I would magically be fixed. I was seeing someone I liked, enjoyed spending time with, but I could feel them pulling away. I became increasingly anxious. I found I was trying too hard to be something which did not feel genuine. I felt constantly under attack and judged.
I would wake up crying, my insomnia came back with a vengeance. I was overwhelmed with grief and this heaviness. I stopped enjoying things I previously loved- running, reading, writing. I had a work thing in Manchester, something I would usually have relished throwing myself into- but it was this big huge negative.
Vegan Stephen, whom I absolutely idolised, probably in an incredibly unhealthy way, became so distanced from me- increasing my anxiety ten fold- I knew it wasn’t right. We had this new thing and it was dominated by my stuff. He would ring me up for a chat and I would be sobbing for absolutely no apparent reason. I wasn’t in a healthy place, I had no business being in a relationship- but I was too scared to admit this to myself and to others, especially him. I had feelings for him, genuine feelings.
I now know of course that the reason was that after months of holding everything together, of appearing strong, I had broken. The enormity of how traumatic the last part of my life was hit me. My relationship with myself was awful, my children even worse. I worried that everyone around me had lost all respect for me and saw me only as a victim who needed looking after. After months of being controlled I was suddenly having to make these huge, scary life decisions on my own. My dog had to be rehomed, I couldn’t give her the life she deserved. I dreaded going to work because I knew the women behind would be sending me aggressive messages with in hours.
Vegan Stephen had a choice, and he chose to end it. It was the right thing for him and the right thing for me. He could also have chosen to be kind to me- instead he aggressively withdrew affection and contact. Something which triggered those awful feelings of desperation I had had when “He” had frequently done the same. Vegan Stephen wasn’t enough for me, and that’s fine. But he could have chosen empathy and kindness, that’s on him.
I think I hit rock bottom in the October. The tears dominated every waking moment. I felt constantly triggered and anxious. I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere.
I’m not sure what changed in me. I guess I realised I couldn’t live like that anymore, with this negativity dominating my every thought. Desperately seeking out answers to how I ended up in that situation, to why someone would chose to treat the person they loved that way. It made no sense to me. I convinced myself of all sorts, that I was a horrible person. That he was right, I was mad, I was mentally ill. I was broken, completely incapable of loving anyone or being loved. I googled “what if I’m not capable of love”? “Can someone live a life without feelings”. I had completely shut down. It was almost worse than the tears, than the anger and feelings of being overwhelmed.
But something changed. It wasn’t a switch or an epiphany, it was gradual. Subtle. The tears gradually slowed. My confidence, my self belief, gradually started to re-emerge. Yes, I’m lucky. My friends and my family are amazing. Yes they have been supportive. But I’m not giving them the credit for this. This was all me.
I’m an incredibly different woman to the one I was a year ago. My friends are no longer worried about me, I am no longer worried about me. I’m starting something new, it’s lovely, he is lovely. His mother set us up so I’m mum approved 😂 I still get moments, little triggers. But I’m adept at figuring out of its past crap or crap I need to worry about. Im able to see the good in him, I’m not searching out red flags. I have told him a little about what He did, it’s fair, he needs to be aware so that he isn’t going in blind. He treats me with kindness and patience, doesn’t try to drag it all of me so as to use it as ammo, I am, without a shadow of a doubt ready and open to this, and yet not reliant on it- I don’t need it, I want it.
did I mention I run? 