Excavating Emotional Abuse

I've been surprised nearly every day since leaving my emotionally abusive relationship. Sometimes those surprises are wonderful; new hobbies, joy in simple tasks, brain not in constant crisis, and other days, other days they're a bit more challenging.

Last night I was having a hard day in my emotional abuse recovery. Lot of memories, lot of feelings, and so I was mothering myself. I put myself in a onesie pajama, lit a candle, put a huge glass of water and stack of books on my coffee table and I stayed in. I went against my plans for the day and I rested. I was reading "Act Your Age Eve Brown by Talia Hibbert (wonderful book by the by) and it kept cracking open all these pockets of pain. I was absolutely flummoxed. Why now? Why those pockets? Some of the connections by brain were making from the content in the book to my abusive relationship were a streeeeeeeeetch. Every few pages it seemed I'd have to stop, open up my recording app, and process my feelings in a series I've been titling 'Aftermath'.

By 9 pm with 100 minutes of processing recording, so many tears expelled, I was spent. I slept for just shy of 11 hours. I woke up and I felt a new feeling. As someone who has paid, literally 10,000s of dollars for an education in understanding and working with people and emotional labor (aka counseling and psychology) I am rarely at a loss for how to describe my feelings let alone coming across a new one.

So, I closed my eyes. I visualized how I felt, something I did in childhood when I didn't have words either. First I thought about how I feel when I'm well, and inside I feel yellow; like sunshine, hope, whimsy, playfulness, fun, friendship, earnestness, and daisy headbands. Then I thought about what my relationship had felt like. It felt like the abuse had punched so many holes through my sunshine, like cervical biopsies, no pain killer, all trauma, and taking parts of me away. There's was another level to this feeling though, because, yes, it did feel like a lot of my soul was taken in that relationship it felt also like things had been unwittingly planted in those pockets of space he made, and there had been, his lies. The doubt of my perception, the belief I deserved to be loved like that, the belief that those actions could even be called love.

Suddenly I understood this new feeling. Like my soul had been traumatically biopsied for his psychological needs and in each new spot he planted seeds that he nurtured. Weeds that he grew over the years, that had control over me. So yesterday while reading this wonderful book it wasn't so much that the book had anything to do with any of the baggage from the last relationship I had, it was more like in coming home to myself I was aware these weeds were still there, infecting my heart space, my soul, my sunshine yellow insides. Each time I allowed the book to uncover one, sat in the feelings, talked about them and talked myself through the gap of what felt true versus what I know to be true I felt like I was digging one of the weeds out.

I have no idea how many I pulled out of my soul yesterday, a fair few I'd say, I have no idea how many are left to uncover and remove. That's the trouble with emotional abuse, or any abuse, it's psychologically incredibly invasive and the full extent of the damage caused is to immediately known. Like a malignant tumor, I'm trying to get clear margins, balancing necessary healing pain and the need to allow my soul to recalibrate.

I feel lighter today. Tender and lighter. Like I have craters in my soul now, at risk for emotional infection by the tempting bitterness and isolation that feel safer than the vulnerable feeling recovery seems to require.

Some of the hardest truths now aren't so much what he did or said but that those actions from him were acceptable to me. I can think back to moments over the years where I saw the truth, even tried to leave, but I wasn't ready to get all the help required because I wouldn't or couldn't see it for what it was - abusive. So his tactics worked to pull be back in each time. There is absolutely no excuse for his behavior or anyone's abusive behavior. I'm not saying that. I am saying I see some truths I didn't know then. Like how my earnest heart and sunshine soul will always draw cancerous users to me, and part of my responsibility is to learn the signs, read the signs, and protect myself. I'm not wrong for being the way that I am. I was wrong to believe I deserved that kind of treatment or that it was my responsibility to help fix or heal a full grown broken abusive ass man.

I saw these signs with someone recently, someone newish in my world, and I'm reading them correctly. Stepping away now, stopping it now, protecting myself and that feels incredibly good. That feels incredibly healing. In very important ways I'm not the young woman who fell in love with my ex and believed true love was worth any required sacrifice, who felt the agony in Nicholas Sparks movies was an indication of depth of love, and not just dramatic storytelling. Love can include hard times, absolutely, there is pain in our lives and in our relationships from our growing and occasional mistakes, but if it feels like you're having your soul metaphorically hole punched it may be an abusive, toxic and dangerous situation. I see that now. I'm learning from it now. I'm excavating the seeds he planted, pulling the weeds of his psychological bull shit he planted, and I'm removing them. Planting wisdom in their place, knowledge, intuition, and even forgiveness for him, sure, but mostly for me and I feel all the best parts of me coming taking root now; the earnest, romantic, plucky, playful, beautiful woman who lived before his abuse and will thrive long after.