In the aftermath of the first PFMA [L] was charged with I was lost and confused…. I was overwhelmed and then he moved…..and a “fun” story about the one time I went to visit him after he moved.
This is just a little life post on my other two dogs. This one has a happy ending for all involved unlike my story about [BEAUTY]
A little bit about our first dog together. Unfortunately she died in an accident, but there are two distinct stories involving her that really were defining moments in [L] and my’s relationship. Looking back on them now still is very hard. I’ll do a post about my two current pups next.
**TRIGGER WARNING** This is a very graphic account of the worst night of abuse I survived. This is the night I struggle with the most, this is physical violence and can be very disturbing to read to anyone but especially to those who have lived with physical violence in the past. There are other posts where I explain why I stayed and other things without any explanations or depictions of physical violence. See “Trauma Bonding- Why I Stayed” if you would like to know more without the violence.
An unfinished post: trying to describe in a general way why I went back. In other posts I describe (or will describe) the circumstances around each individual decision and each separate time I went back, but with this I tried to just give a general overview of the similarities and some of the psychology behind why it was so hard to leave each time I did, and why I kept coming back.
Welcome, this is my story. Survivor, advocate, friend, ex-abuser, psychology student, curious onlooker, whomever you are, you are welcome here. I am hoping to raise awareness with my story.
Letters I’ll never send have become a way of me confronting my abuser in a safe space. I don’t plan on him ever receiving these letters, so they’re a safe space for me to vent my unknown emotions and have a pseudo-connection while I’m still recovering from trauma bonds. This letter explores some changes going on with his status as well as a new found bravery I am clinging to.
Well, who knew I could relate my entire relationship back to a pair of blankets. I didn’t until I started writing. Some things just trigger memories the good and the bad and apparently for me that’s a pair of F***ing blankets…..
Holidays with an abusive Narcissist suck! This is just a compilation of special occasions and holidays that he ruined. A running inventory of events so hopefully I can one day flush them all out of my mind and into one spot and be done with them.
Let’s start from the beginning I guess….. 2017, I was a single mom, and engineering student, I was living and loving life. I was a little wild, I loved to dance, I loved to be the center of attention, I was unapologetically myself. I had my son at 19, his dad was in and outContinue reading “The Beginning”