Sociopath

** Trigger Warning.

There is mentions of rape and abuse in this excerpt from my life. Please read with caution**

“Do you think you could be a sociopath?” She asked while tracing shapes along his bare chest.

Jason turned to look at the young woman. With no emotion showing in his face, he said “I’m surprised you never asked before.” his steel blue eyes were flat, without any emotion.

My heart shattered in that moment. How could have the man that I fell in love with, turn out to be this person who enjoyed causing me pain?

***

It's not easy being in love with someone you know is not good for you. You don't know why the hurt you, or why they get off on the pain. Abuse is silent yet loud at the same time. Emotional abuse is quieter, more vicious than anyone knows.

I am moulded by the shape of my wounds. And I get to determine my healing pace.

Abuse has been romanticized. In novels, tv and movies, even with family relationships that have been modelled for us growing up. People are prided for staying with someone through thick and thin, even if it traumatizes everyone else around them

Nobody told me the hardest part about healing from narcissistic abuse was the anger I felt. I was angry at him for the damage he had caused me. I was angry with myself for feeling like I had wasted so much of my life on him. I was angry that I continued to allow my life to be defined by my abusers.

People don't understand why I stayed with the father of my children for as long as I did. Living in a small community, people like to shove things under the rug. My mother and his father started dating around the time we did. It was complicated. My cousin even ended up dating my mom's partner's half-sister. It truly was an odd and confusing situation. With all of us living in the same, semi large community.

Abuse starts small. It starts with love bombing and promises that were not made to be kept. It starts with small, irreversible arguments that revolve in never-ending circles. Then the threats creep through. "I have nobody else but you. I will kill myself without you."

You try to leave but you feel guilted into staying. The false promises continue. Then violence escalates. It always escalates.

I think it is worse in a smaller community, because nobody sees what you see. Even if they hear it, people tend to turn a blind eye.

The beginning of March 2020, I was working as a front desk clerk at my family hotel. I was pregnant with my second child at the time. When I first heard rumors of COVID-19, I realized very shortly after that this was a bigger deal than people thought. Especially since I was vising the doctors offices. I was very cautious as I did not want anything to happen to my children. I was laid off work on March 16th. I had just moved into my own home in low-income housing, things were finally picking back up after I had been abused for so long.

With isolation and my second pregnancy, I relied on him more than I should have. He was not much of a support person for me however. Even getting our son and I groceries was a task for him. Even now as I write this, he still does not take the pandemic as seriously as he should be.

I was only allowed to have one support person with me during the birth of our daughter. As it was a planned C-section, we were just requested to self-isolate for 2 weeks prior to my daughter's birth. My mom was my support person. As someone was not serious about precautions, he was not allowed to be present. Which was probably for the best considering I had major surgery and a newborn baby to look after.

Living in a small city, after going through a series of abusive events during a pandemic was hard. Especially while raising two small children.

Growing up, I had heard the term domestic violence before. I understood that there were awful people out there that harmed their spouses and children with their words and actions. I never thought I would ever apply that term within my own life.

I remember seeing him around our high school. We had similar social circles but never talked much throughout the years we spent in school. It wasn’t until he dropped out our senior year that I really paid any attention to him. He started working part time at my family’s business. I was extremely attracted to him. He showed major red flags, even back then. He would consistently be late for work or call in hungover. I ignored it because I thought he was so cool. I knew how badly I wanted him. I grew up with two great parents and two younger half siblings. My parents were married for 15 years. They had their problems, but they tried to make things work for mine and my brother's sake. They ended up getting a divorce when I was about fifteen years old but I was relieved. There had not been any love between them in quite some time and as the oldest I could feel the tension between the two of them. They are much better cooperants than they are being together.

The first time I was asked if I was in an abusive situation by somebody who did not know me, at that point I was so emotionally broken inside. The invisible emotional damage was millions of times worse than the physical evidence.

A local health nurse was the one who asked me during one of my daughters immunization appointments if I was in an abusive relationship. I could see why she asked. I had postponed the appointment due to a particularly bad fight between my ex and myself. I was covered in bruises; some were from him, others were damage of my own doing from trying to get away. There was no life in my eyes left.

Having a baby you were forced to have, is hard. I love my daughter fiercely and I would not change anything for the world. But accepting my second child was hard. Harder than it should be. And that was largely part to do with my abusive relationship with my children's father.

We had just separated when I found out I was pregnant with my daughter. I was terrified. I had finally broke free from him, as free as I could be with having a son with him. Then there was that pesky little positive sign. I didn't want to believe it. I put the test down and immediately went to work as a waitress. I chose to ignore it that day. How could I being another baby into this fucking nightmare I had been living through? Would a second baby be enough to make him be a dad?

After he threw a chair over my head into a glass tv stand, I joined a support group online, a group for survivors and current victims of abuse. Some stories did not relate to me, as I had not experienced any physical abuse. Just threats of violence. Thrown objects, emotional outbursts

Spousal rape not often talked about. There are some things that I’m not quite ready to share yet but when that day comes I’m going to roar.

Narcissism exists in all of us to some degree. As a society, we are so vain. but for some people, they are actually diagnosed with narcissistic personality disorder that varies on a spectrum.

How do you love someone that threatens to leave you for someone that parties because you are no longer fun now that you are a parent? How do you love someone that threatens to kill you? How do you love someone when they do not want to help you raise the children they helped create? How I always felt insecure around him. Even though I weighed 115 lbs, I felt shapeless and disheveled.

That's how absurd emotional abuse is. I'm angry with myself for still protecting someone who caused me so much pain. At some point you have to forgive yourself for holding onto someone who hurts you.

I am okay. And I am free to be my own individual person.

***

I had this written for a long time. It was an act of healing for myself. I’ve been debating sharing it for this Vocal Challenge as it was incredibly hard for me to write but maybe my story can help someone else get out. I’m in a different place now. There are so many people that watched him abuse me for years and nobody did a single thing but protect him. It wasn’t until he abused yet another woman that he really owned what he is and began getting the help he needs.

I survived the abuse I endured. And I’m not okay some days but I’m stronger than I’ve ever been. I do get flashbacks when I see him in person. I will not minimize my trauma for anyone and I will remain speaking my truth and being myself. I’m free. Not many people can say that.



Thank you for reading.



Chloe Rose Violet