I am so angry. I’m lying in bed trying to sleep and the tears just started. There was a scene on TV where two people looked at each other like they were in love and my heart broke all over again.
I wanted that feeling, that high I get when he shows me he loves me. But here’s the thing, those moments are only so high because I have to work so fucking hard for them.
If I’m a good girl and I say all the right things and don’t do anything to upset him I’ll be rewarded.
Maybe he’ll reach out to hold my hand, or initiate sex (because only he is allowed to do that), maybe he’ll gesture for me to put my head on his lap while we watch TV and he rubs my back… of course he’ll act like he’s going to slap me on the ass and get my lower back instead.
It happened so often, that slap against the bottom of my back. I would try to wiggle up so he could reach further and not hurt me, no matter how much I scooted up he still caught me right there, the same spot where I had back surgery. I finally said something, after years of this, I remember saying, “honey, you’re hitting my back” and he nonchalantly said, “ I know.” I was just dumbfounded. Little things, the little things kept me on edge, walking on eggshells. Always in a state of high alert and anxiety.
He was conditioning me. He would joke sometimes and say, “looks like somebody needs reconditioning”. We would laugh, but I knew it wasn’t really a joke. It was a warning.
I don’t want to ride this ride anymore. God, I have always hated roller coasters.