i know I am so annoying and repetitive, I talk myself in circles about him. I cry and I cry but nothing makes it better, I am always so scared people are gonna get mad at me and no matter how many times they reassure me I can't make myself believe it. I don't know why I'm so stuck, I'm getting better but I feel like I'm not really free of him, that I'll never REALLY be free. I do the same things over and over again even though I know that all it does is damage me, isn't that the definition of insanity?
Wow edgelord, chill.
But really, I just want to stop trying to retraumatize myself, but I deserve it, I will always feel like I deserve it. There's always this part of me that can't ever erase the sound of his voice telling me I was ruined, dirty, I will never forget that. I am so angry and bitter and loud about it but I just, deep down I sometimes think maybe it was my fault, I have to hate him or else I'll start to place the blame on me. Why didn't I call the police? Why didn't I tell my mom? Why wouldn't I? It's my fault he got to abuse me. And I know that logically that makes no sense but those are still the thoughts that plague my mind, I trusted him, i cared about him, I even loved him. Why was I so stupid? How did I fall for that? Shouldn't I have known?
I know that I couldn't have.
Am I going to start blaming ted bundy's victims? No. They had no part in the awful crimes perpetrated against them. So neither did. That's rational brain.
I still can't really believe it though.
And it's like, yeah there are the flashbacks, the constant horrific memories, the nightmares, but you know what's even worse? The little things, the numerous parts of my personality that were influenced by the trauma, it's the hypersensitivity, the lack of trust in people, the fear, the constant fear that if I say no to something I'll get hurt, how I can't watch any violence, the flinching, the little thoughts about him, constantly, this nagging thought that he still controls me. That he just gets me forever now. Idk, then I kind of think maybe I'm overreacting? What if it wasn't really that bad and there's no reason to be this broken over it, it could've been worse I suppose, people have had it worse. Ah? I don't know, this is so whiny and stupid and pathetic, I need to talk about this in therapy and I do! But I still can't stop thinking about it, talking about it. His stare plagues me day and night. His eyes were always the most disturbing thing about his physical appearance, they weren't blue, not by the time i knew him, they were dark grey, washed out, a stormcloud. He was always staring at me with hunger, watching me, like a predator stalking their prey. Which was honestly exactly what was happening. I don't think I'll ever forget how he would look at me, like I was worthless, like I was just something to rip apart, to destroy, china dishes smashing on the cold cement floor. It was like the cracked doorway, the bit of evil peeking out. I am so tired, I wish i could sleep without seeing those fucking eyes.