Tuesday, 13 September 2022

Eight Years On.

|Trigger warning.|

The following contains adult content, adult language, my experience with physical, mental, verbal, and emotional abuse, and mental health struggles. Reader discretion is advised.

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It’s been over for 8 years. And only this past weekend did I realize what actually happened during and maybe most importantly, in the aftermath.

During the relationship, I was so secretive. I didn’t let on to anybody what it was like living in that house. The hell that was daily life. I knew deep down that if my family knew what I was going through, they would have pulled up, packed my shit, and brought me home.

- this being one of the first acknowledgements of my abusive relationship with myself -__-

Each day was unpredictable in the worst way. Anger, outbursts, and verbal, mental and emotional abuse from both of them. I was living with a grenade surrounded by land mines.

When it ended, my family now in the loop, I was unable to have anyone talk badly about them. I couldn’t accept hearing the truth. It wasn’t the truth for me.

It took me *literal* years to move on. Even when I was eventually able to accept the reality of the situation. I could never understand why.

It was only this past weekend that it hit me. Trauma bond.

The repeated abuse, the daily depreciation and feeling unable to let go had me completely stuck in a loop.

This had honestly never occurred to me. Back then, I had never even heard of trauma bonding but now I am aware, it makes so much sense.

I’m now travelling down a rabbit hole of healing and accepting that I did what I could given the circumstances at the time. And that’s okay. 


Thank you for stopping by, I really appreciate it xoxo

Please take care of yourself, you are so important and deserve the world 🌍

As always, sending you love and kickassery 😏💊💋💖

 

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