Unpicking the pain

I feel so numb, my body and mind want to unpick this but I just don’t know where to start. It’s like rolling down a hill, I can feel the bumps and bruises but I can’t look at the damage because I keep on rolling. I can’t dust myself off and start to heal, I don’t know which break to deal with first or what pain is yet to come. I can see everything but it’s all a blur and I can’t see anything at all. My baby father really called social services on me, false allegations, such a low blow. Did I create this monster? all of his nastiness and hurtful words are weights i’m carrying. I never deserved any of this, my intentions have always been good and here I am still trying to understand and wanting to believe that he is good. This is not the first time I’ve been hurt. I spent my childhood always wanting to fit in, never feeling special enough. I hated that I wasn’t the idea of beautiful that I admired. I hated too that I had incredible sisters that I just wanted to be a part of, to see and to give all of my love to. I never saw them enough, I couldn’t get enough and I blamed my mum that I was growing up in a house without them. A house that was volatile, one that I would listen out for the fighting even in the silence. As I grew older, into adulthood I swore I could hear fighting in the walls, listening for neighbours, expecting the shouts and cries. I never felt settled. I told myself that I would do different, I would stay silent if it were me, I would prevent the fights, I wouldn’t argue back. Yet here I am, I’ve relived it in adulthood. I’m told I’m masculine and I’m the problem, that I answer back and I cause the fights. How can that be? My first relationship was a mess, I thought we were like best friends, we had great times but how he broke my spirit with the cheating. I remember the day I wanted God to take me back, when I walked for hours trying to process the hurt. That night I saw a hit and run and remembered that my life was precious. A night I will never forget. I spent years feeling empty, searching for love and children, believing that would make me complete. The night before my 29th birthday something I never foresaw happened, I was raped my my gym instructor. I was broken again. I didn’t know how to process it. I guess to an extent I was also angry with myself, too scared to do the right thing and report it so I just tried to live and block it out. It still lives in the back of my head, it shows up from time to time. I poured all of my energy into everything else within my control believing that it I would be ready when he came along. I studied and saved, I worked and bought my house. To an extent it worked, I had it all ready for love. I thought I found it. It was heaven sent at first. I was over the moon. His words cut me but I just wanted to be good enough. I wanted to fix his pain, love him enough to heal his wounds. Then it got to the point that I was desperate. So desperate for the kids that I kept begging for basic human decency. To be spoken to with love. I knew the relationship was hurting me but I was trying to focus on the beautiful parts, I thought I was running out of time. I feared my children would never come. I was at an all time low again. The relationship hit one iceberg after another until the ship was clearly sinking. I thought I needed to get out but part of me still believed in the fairytale. When I went back to him I saw quickly that nothing had improved but my greatest wish came true, I was pregnant. To some extent things were hopeful. The ship was clearly damaged but maybe in time it would be repaired. There were so many nights that I felt hopeless, broken and so ungrateful for the blessing. How could I have it all but be so unhappy at the same time? She was born, it was all like a dream. Before I could even hit the ground and acknowledge I was a mother, the fighting started, it was worse than ever. She was two days old and it’s progressively got worse between us. She has been the brightest ray of sunshine but I’ve barely even seen the light, so consumed with the darkness with him. Would you believe she is 10months now and I mostly remember 10months of pain, hurtful words and our relationship rapidly declining? We can’t even talk anymore. It’s so toxic and abusive. What will come of her life? I just know I will look back and know that I missed it all in this grief.

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You wrote your feelings out beautifully. Now it’s time to take responsibility and leave victimhood behind.

Responsibility for choosing your partner despite the toxicity. Responsibility for getting pregnant. Responsibility for staying when the universe begged you to leave. Responsibility for putting a fairytale over the reality of your child. Responsibility for attempting to find love in anyone other than yourself, than your child. Responsibility for letting toxicity, misery, cloud your life instead of focusing on the milestones of your daughter.

Now it’s time to take responsibility.
Now it’s time to accept your reality.

Life isn’t a Disney princess movie.
No one is here to save you.
Your prince is not in the men you have met.
But you do have a princess. And she needs you to be present, to be here, NOW.

You cannot go back. But, you can go forward.

@Liv I can’t thank you enough for taking the time to reply. I’ve never stopped before now to process what has happened so that I can leave it behind but your msg is very profound and just what I need to have a shift in mindset. Thank you

Unpicking the pain

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