wounded

I'm wounded from this disease

I’m a liar.

so I’m saying this truthfully. let me explain.

I’m a liar by omission, and also, by words. there was a time in my life (not recently) when I endured verbal abuse. it became, as I’m sure you can imagine, horrible to live with. I felt like a dog, being kicked over and over. the longer it went on, the bigger liar I became. I told no one, when I was really suffering. THAT was lying, I think. pretending. no family or friends were aware until much later in the relationship. there were no physical symptoms of abuse, so I didn’t have to “cover anything up,” but he was able to reduce me to a puddle of tears in minutes. he was so angry; i have no idea why, nor do I think he knew either. I just tread very lightly around him. he knew my triggers and sometimes he actively sought to hurt me. something I could never do to him. how could he love me and still do this? I couldn’t make sense of it.

and sometimes, I awoke the anger. it could be anything. I had hung a new shirt to dry in the bathroom.

“Are you EVER going to wear this, Michelle? you have TOO MANY GODDAMN CLOTHES!!! I am so fucking SICK OF THIS!! and that was it. I spent the whole day sorting clothes to give away, apologizing the whole time.

a million things like that. it was living with a sleeping tiger. and the insults eroded my self-esteem to nothing.

“Jesus Christ you are a DUMBASS! I told you that wouldn’t fit in there! Do you EVER LISTEN??”

I'm wounded from this disease

can you imagine living with this? 24/7 but only in private. so more of the same, all the time. I told no one, like I said. I resigned myself to the fact that this was my situation. my “lot in life.” I stuck around, taking more abuse and apologizing for nothing ALL THE TIME. I believe this abuse helped shape my ABSENCE of self-esteem. it didn’t matter one iota how badly you treated me. my lack of self-esteem and self-WORTH urged me to stay put and take it. I deserved it.

I’m wounded from this disease. sure, I’m heartbroken over the younger me being abused. but I have deeper wounds. all the name calling, the put-downs…they have taken a toll. I’m so sensitive to volume; he always shouted SO LOUDLY at me. and I cannot abide shouting anymore, in any situation.

I’ve had enough. I know now, with the benefit of psychiatric care, I do not deserve to be treated poorly. this is a fact. but my ED brain is always there to challenge facts and replace them with fiction. I’m working on reminding myself of that as often as I can. I’m not on this journey alone, and I’m learning to reach out when I need a hand. this is hard for me because I no longer have my independence (walking, driving, etc). I already require help; I don’t want to need anymore! anyway, lying is never a good idea (maybe not NEVER lol), but honesty is hard. you’re accountable to yourself, in the end, so it’s up to you to choose true honesty. you can continue to lie to yourself about some stuff, claiming it’s the truth, but you know.

you always know.

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