I had the above realization sometime last week in a moment of absolute clarity.
It also struck me that had my relationship with the man continued, I probably wouldn't be alive today.
It's only in retrospect that I can see how broken I was. I was forever anxious, worried, crying on the daily. I couldn't make my own decisions; couldn't make plans without consulting him first. I was always conflicted. I honestly believed I was happy. I allowed myself to think I was beautiful for even a second, he would take me down. Tell me how unattractive my stomach was, tell me how I should be exercising more, eating less, start juicing again. He would tell me I was wearing too much make up, not enough, my eyebrows were not on fleek; he even took his clippers to them once to show me how I was doing it all wrong. I did everything wrong.
Towards the end I probably thought about dying on a weekly basis, if not daily. There was so much pain involved. I couldn't control my anxiety, I couldn't control the hurt. I couldn't stop loving him. But I desperately needed an out. But maybe that's the price I paid for loving a man who hated himself.
I fought back when he would put me down. The subconscious is a bitch though.
The first few weeks post break-off were the worst. My whole life had revolved around him and suddenly the lights went out.
I'm sure I would have ended up back with him had it not been for my life support. The family of friends I have to remind me constantly that I'm worth more; who held me and hugged me and loved me even when I cried. The voices that kept me company when I got lonely.
I am blessed & I am grateful.