Still painful, but here it goes…

I live in a negative world, but I don’t see it that way.  I see the darkness as funny and inviting.  I love the smart ass comments that come out my mouth, because they are so rare and hilarious to me.  But then, my whole world has been focused on me and survival.  I was the only one that I had to take care of and entertain myself, so I developed my own sense of warped humor as well as the self beatings.  Something I still do today.  And when I try to carry this humor over to my husband, it comes out critical and sarcastic.  In fact, according to him, almost everything I say about him is critical.  (Thank you mom.  I’ve turned into you).  And it’s true.  It’s like out of my mouth is like a thin slab of ice.  You can slide on it or it will cut you in half.  I have tried to understand it.  And even when I’m not being critical, the tone sounds like it and I have to explain.  This is one of the crux of our marriage.  Because I think the same thing with everything he says.

God, how did this all become such a mess!?

Oh that’s right, now I remember…MY ABUSERS TAUGHT ALL THIS TO ME!!

The only friend I had in surviving my abusers and their torturing was the dog.  That dog saved my life over and over again teaching me what real, true love was. It was the only love I knew.  I am deathly afraid of people for this fact alone. It seemed as thought my abusers were everywhere I turned.  Every relationship I had was abusive and tainted.  It didn’t stop until I met my husband, but my relationship to myself, that never stopped.

My husband used to disagree with that saying, “You can’t really love somebody until you love yourself,” until he realized that it rang true with me.  And I don’t know that I believe that wholeheartedly either, but it makes sense.

I don’t know where I’m going with this.  I feel like inside my brain there is a circle with all these different points that raise up and down with how I feel or think about something and they are constantly changing.  Like one day my trust with people might be at a high and I’ll share and talk and make eye contact.  But the next day under the same scenario, I’ll hide from that person, not wanting anything to do with them again.  And this can be said for how much I love/like myself, etc…

Side note:  Does anyone who’s married and been abused get upset when their husband’s do something nice for them?  Just curious.  I have a problem with that and I really can’t explain why.

I know I’m kind of all over the place, but I’ve been out of practice writing for myself and I’m not really sure what I’m doing or where I’m going.  I guess this is me spilling my guts and I know it’s not all nice and pretty, but its real and its me.

Can you relate to parts of this?  Why or why not?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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