I don’t know where to start. I will start with my intention of maybe putting my secret out there in plain text so I can make sense of all this and finally feel free. My Secret feels like shackles around my feet. I can walk but the cuffs rub against my ankles and I cannot run. My secret when you first read it will sound corny and childish. Yet this secret causes great pain and immense shame. My secret is I am in love with a man who was my abuser.Its the only way I can explain my secret in one sentence. We are not together and haven’t been for going on 2 decades. I wish I was writing that I found my integrity and walked away. Yet that is not the story. One day he called me and yelled at me for not being there when he called and said “ I am done with you it’s over and hung up . Just like that my heart was broken and my abuse by him was over. I know that it was like my soul somewhere went cold and desolate . So as you read , that is where most of my shame and self loathing comes from. My inner dark secret. I am in love with a man that beat me, that choked me, that spit on me. He hit me with his car. Yet to my demise I went back again and again. Thank you Bob May I have another. I thought that my withstanding all of his abuse that I was proving my love. I was showing him true love through selfless acts. I thought living homeless and believing every lie was true love. Foolish yet here I am 20 years later longing for him. You may ask “what about counseling” . Oh believe me I have gone for years. Trying every new exercise. Reading every book. Talking it out to feel even more foolish. I have gone to many mediations. I have done every hike in the book. I just want to have 1 day go by that his name doesn’t cross my mind. That that sharp pain to my heart at his memory goes away. I think i secretly hope that some accident wipes my memory away and that he just disappears. I also fear dementia and Alzheimer’s for what if I relive this time and destroy my husbands heart with my secret. It why I am writing this right now. Another chance to forgetting and moving on. I am on old woman now. I have moved on physically have married a terrific man. Oh he is so good. He loves me, he lives to make me happy. Yet I don’t give him my heart. I want to. I want it to be him that I love like this. He is the one that deserves me wholeheartedly. I think of the other and chastise myself that I should long for my husband, not him. My Secret is shameful to a woman of my age. I have daughters now that we’re my age when I met him. I tell them be careful, yet I cannot sit down and tell them the story of my heartache, my shame and my fear of them making the same mistake. I tell my daughters to love themselves but I haven’t loved me in sometime so hopefully me mimicking the act has been all that they remember. How can someone love themselves when they know if their abuser called and said “ I’m sorry please Come back. You probably would. One counselor told me that the statement above was what I should start with, and work out all the cons of going back. Like it was an option for me. She said it will empower you. I took a pen and paper and took a long hike. I wrote out all the cons the page was filled. Yet in that Pro section, 1 pro, I am deeply in love with him. In my heart I knew that very day I was a stupid woman. I did not feel empowered, I did not feel anything but Shame. The Shame washed over me and caused me to sob for the rest of my 14 mile hike. So as you see, writing out this secret and putting it in plain text right there and for the world to see it. It is making it come forward that sick dirty secret. I’m acknowledging it. I’m approaching my shame. I’m hoping that it’s not as big as I’m making it but I know. It’s the scary sick part of me. All the desperate acts of me trying to keep him play out in my mind. There I feel the lashes of shame, self hatred, and screams of the rational me. Do you hear the screams? Do you hear that heartache and that longing? Imagine 20 years of that. I have kept myself in this self made prison for 2 decades. You can Call me anything you want. It’s not like it won’t be anything that I haven’t called myself. Maybe you will say something new that I can sit and shame myself with. I ask myself is this the reason why I am putting my secret out there. In hopes that you will bash me. I have grown tired of doing it myself, so Am I asking you to read these words and get angry with my stupidity, for you to validate my shame. For you to stand up for my wonderful husband who deserves to be loved wholeheartedly. He is the innocent person in this. He deserves better. I can’t act like he doesn’t know. He may not know the secret but I am sure he feels it. I slip away from the present and he asks me to come back or what I am thinking about. I see the look of hurt in his eyes. Him asking himself “what he can do to make me happy”. I pretend that it’s work or something with the kids. Desperate to make that look go away. He is such a good man. A simple one. One who has taken on all my baggage and loved me through it all. He has a sweet love. So tender and soft. Like the caress of a baby while breastfeeding. I say I love you to him all the time everyday. Hoping that it just someday sticks that I am hopelessly in love with him. That I have reclaimed my heart and given it to it’s rightful owner. I hope you do read my frustration. I hope you do understand that I have tried so hard to make peace with this secret. To make it right. To be free of my love for this man. Yet this love grows for him by the day. Would it have been better for me if one of his beating went to far. One of the times that he had me pinned down and was choking me, that it killed me. That I wouldn’t have to live in this self made prison of love that I wouldn’t ever know that I was just his whipping boy for absolutely nothing. I am not a victor of his abuse. In fact it still continues. He is not the producer of it anymore, I am. I have taken on his role of abusing me. Where does one like me go from here? Is it due to my lack of strength that I cannot let go?
I don’t know where to start. I will start with my intention of maybe putting my secret out there in plain text so I can make sense of all this and finally feel free. My Secret feels like shackles around my feet. I can walk but the cuffs rub against my ... therapy in writing stories
  38
  •  
  0
  •   2 comments
Share

sladylady
sladylady i am trying
Autoplay OFF   •   2 years ago
My Sick Secret, first writing ever

I don’t know where to start. I will start with my intention of maybe putting my secret out there in plain text so I can make sense of all this and finally feel free. My Secret feels like shackles around my feet. I can walk but the cuffs rub against my ankles and I cannot run. My secret when you first read it will sound corny and childish. Yet this secret causes great pain and immense shame. My secret is I am in love with a man who was my abuser.Its the only way I can explain my secret in one sentence. We are not together and haven’t been for going on 2 decades. I wish I was writing that I found my integrity and walked away. Yet that is not the story. One day he called me and yelled at me for not being there when he called and said “ I am done with you it’s over and hung up . Just like that my heart was broken and my abuse by him was over. I know that it was like my soul somewhere went cold and desolate . So as you read , that is where most of my shame and self loathing comes from. My inner dark secret. I am in love with a man that beat me, that choked me, that spit on me. He hit me with his car. Yet to my demise I went back again and again. Thank you Bob May I have another. I thought that my withstanding all of his abuse that I was proving my love. I was showing him true love through selfless acts. I thought living homeless and believing every lie was true love. Foolish yet here I am 20 years later longing for him. You may ask “what about counseling” . Oh believe me I have gone for years. Trying every new exercise. Reading every book. Talking it out to feel even more foolish. I have gone to many mediations. I have done every hike in the book. I just want to have 1 day go by that his name doesn’t cross my mind. That that sharp pain to my heart at his memory goes away. I think i secretly hope that some accident wipes my memory away and that he just disappears. I also fear dementia and Alzheimer’s for what if I relive this time and destroy my husbands heart with my secret. It why I am writing this right now. Another chance to forgetting and moving on. I am on old woman now. I have moved on physically have married a terrific man. Oh he is so good. He loves me, he lives to make me happy. Yet I don’t give him my heart. I want to. I want it to be him that I love like this. He is the one that deserves me wholeheartedly. I think of the other and chastise myself that I should long for my husband, not him. My Secret is shameful to a woman of my age. I have daughters now that we’re my age when I met him. I tell them be careful, yet I cannot sit down and tell them the story of my heartache, my shame and my fear of them making the same mistake. I tell my daughters to love themselves but I haven’t loved me in sometime so hopefully me mimicking the act has been all that they remember. How can someone love themselves when they know if their abuser called and said “ I’m sorry please Come back. You probably would. One counselor told me that the statement above was what I should start with, and work out all the cons of going back. Like it was an option for me. She said it will empower you. I took a pen and paper and took a long hike. I wrote out all the cons the page was filled. Yet in that Pro section, 1 pro, I am deeply in love with him. In my heart I knew that very day I was a stupid woman. I did not feel empowered, I did not feel anything but Shame. The Shame washed over me and caused me to sob for the rest of my 14 mile hike. So as you see, writing out this secret and putting it in plain text right there and for the world to see it. It is making it come forward that sick dirty secret. I’m acknowledging it. I’m approaching my shame. I’m hoping that it’s not as big as I’m making it but I know. It’s the scary sick part of me. All the desperate acts of me trying to keep him play out in my mind. There I feel the lashes of shame, self hatred, and screams of the rational me. Do you hear the screams? Do you hear that heartache and that longing? Imagine 20 years of that. I have kept myself in this self made prison for 2 decades. You can Call me anything you want. It’s not like it won’t be anything that I haven’t called myself. Maybe you will say something new that I can sit and shame myself with. I ask myself is this the reason why I am putting my secret out there. In hopes that you will bash me. I have grown tired of doing it myself, so Am I asking you to read these words and get angry with my stupidity, for you to validate my shame. For you to stand up for my wonderful husband who deserves to be loved wholeheartedly. He is the innocent person in this. He deserves better. I can’t act like he doesn’t know. He may not know the secret but I am sure he feels it. I slip away from the present and he asks me to come back or what I am thinking about. I see the look of hurt in his eyes. Him asking himself “what he can do to make me happy”. I pretend that it’s work or something with the kids. Desperate to make that look go away. He is such a good man. A simple one. One who has taken on all my baggage and loved me through it all. He has a sweet love. So tender and soft. Like the caress of a baby while breastfeeding. I say I love you to him all the time everyday. Hoping that it just someday sticks that I am hopelessly in love with him. That I have reclaimed my heart and given it to it’s rightful owner. I hope you do read my frustration. I hope you do understand that I have tried so hard to make peace with this secret. To make it right. To be free of my love for this man. Yet this love grows for him by the day. Would it have been better for me if one of his beating went to far. One of the times that he had me pinned down and was choking me, that it killed me. That I wouldn’t have to live in this self made prison of love that I wouldn’t ever know that I was just his whipping boy for absolutely nothing. I am not a victor of his abuse. In fact it still continues. He is not the producer of it anymore, I am. I have taken on his role of abusing me. Where does one like me go from here? Is it due to my lack of strength that I cannot let go?

Stories We Think You'll Love 💕

Get The App

App Store
COMMENTS (2)
SHOUTOUTS (0)