Alive, Gloriously Alive

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For the first time in 23 years I'm a free man. I finally ended my second abusive relationship. I could kick myself for falling for the same trap twice but honestly the first time was youth and the second time was desperation.

It only took 3 years, but a lightswitch came on one day in early December. "Oh, that's what this is." I had seen it the whole time, but I made every excuse to save it. I'm a committed man, after all. My previous relationship lasted 20 years before she left to sleep with her coworker. I didn't know I was abused until it was too late.

This time is different. This time I knew it was bad. I knew I could break it off. So I did.

And now I'm alive.

I used to think emotional abuse was just made up. Oh, your feelings were hurt? Suck it up, buttercup. We pathologize every behavior nowadays, so I just figured terms like "narcissist" or "codependent" were bloated buzz words used to describe people in situations where one is a little snarky and the other a little oversensitive.

Years of being told "you have anxiety" whenever I brought up my feelings or concerns about my marriage (that was her version of "you're crazy") warped my view of mental illness. "Anxiety" was a blanket diagnosis, meant to shut me up and make me believe there was something wrong with me. A cult like belief took hold, every sensation in my body took on the label "anxiety". Every desire was diminished because my "anxiety" was running the show. She told me what was right and wrong, and I believed her.

Then one day I realized that I didn't have generalized anxiety. Sometimes specific events or circumstances discouraged me, but I wasn't walking around in a panic all day. I was normal, with normal wants, normal desires, and normal emotions. The person I had lived with, however, was not. I loved a narcissist, the one creature in this world unable to love in return. Rather than take on her own issues, she would rather tell me "you have anxiety" every time I expected love.

She left as narcissists often do, and in despair I found another narc. The love bombs fell so hard. I was the greatest thing since sliced bread to her. Everyone else in her life was shit, but not me. I was the first who ever made her seriously consider marriage. She slept with me one month into the friendship, and moved in after a year.

It didn't take long before I felt her wrath. One day I was amazing, the next I was the worst person in the world. Probably because I was late, or I made too much noise, or I wanted to spend time doing something other than watch TV with her. The door was always revolving. Up and down, cold and warm. The slightest thing could tip the balance. The pit in my chest returned. I had to keep secrets. I was always waiting for the next screaming match.

Who dumped who? I don't know. I'm pretty sure she did, as she had dozens of times, but spun it to be my fault. Unlike previous times, I didn't fight it. Two months later she's out. And I'm finally free.

If you find yourself on the hamster wheel of crazy, don't stay on it. Get off ASAP! You won't regret it.

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S. D. G.

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