When you’re finally able to just relax, in the quiet, with no one screaming at you, or leaving without a word, or interrupting every second with words and actions of hate; it feels like God, Himself, has sprinkled happiness down upon you, and you find yourself, smiling ….
For two years, I was in an extremely toxic and abusive relationship. It was through writing therapy that I was finally able to let go, and heal. I invite you to be with me as I share the painful, confusing, enraging, and sometimes, frightening details of what I, and my unborn son experienced. This is not an easy story to tell. It is humiliating, as well as devastating, but I am sharing in hopes that it may touch someone who is being abused, or perhaps, the abuser, themselves. Follow me, on this all-too-common but secretive journey ….
** After some thought, I decided not to change any names for privacy. All the people I mention, including my son’s father and his little group of drug-addict friends and flying-monkeys, affected me on such a personal level, that I will call them out by name. They have intruded in my life and family; gossiping about me, and slandering my name, so I don’t feel I owe them any respect or consideration. I also doubt they would ever see me in court which requires conscious effort and a case people can get behind, to which they have neither. I have been very outspoken to their faces when we did cross paths and they know I would have no problem bringing their elicit behaviours to light and saying my piece in front of a judge and courtroom. I began writing as a way of healing through personal expression, and part of that means addressing the problems and the people who played a part in this ugly mess. This is a non-fiction account of what I experienced, and I will keep details truthful and accurate, for authenticity.
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