It was like something had punched a hole through my life, mind, and heart. Everything in my universe was scattered in complete disarray.
I couldn't process anything the way I used to. Nothing was right. I didn't know how to move about the world anymore. I didn't know how to be a part of anything.
It was a miserable, slow, and frightening struggle for many months. I felt like I was in a separate world apart from everyone else.
My trust. My confidence. My clarity. My hope. My reality. My mind. My heart. My will. My passion. My joy. — All of it was completely destroyed by the trauma his abuse caused.
I had to find bits of all I was and all I used to know so I could rebuild it.
The pieces I managed to rediscover were so small and disfigured that even after they were gathered I felt like I had to start all over.
His hate and cruelty decimated my entire world. It changed how I saw everything..
It tainted all the beautiful parts of the human experience I held dear. It made me feel I could never believe in anything good again.
I believed, and then was coldly shown there was no point in doing so. His abusive selfishness killed a part of me, the part of me that made my life worth living— hope.
I couldn't hold steady or be certain of ANYTHING anymore.
It took a lot of will power to wait it out. I felt like I was waiting for things to start improving for an excruciatingly long time. It took so long that I would often want to quit.
I'd feel hopeless, alone, and stuck. I'd go back and forth between feeling numb and feeling emotionally devastated..over and over again. I just wanted everything around me to stop.. then it would have ended the same way my sense of normalcy had the moment he shattered my most cherished core beliefs. —Resuming Life
It was like I had been torn away from myself, and told I was something else to the point that I believed I was everything he said I was and wasn't.
It's like I was buried and trapped in a prison inside my own mind. I couldn't make it stop.
It wasn't simply my feelings being hurt or sad. The brand of hurt and mind-fuckery he provided left me at war with myself.
I was trapped and being eaten alive. An excruciating pain that nobody else could see on the outside, but I knew on the inside it was the most intensely personal type of torture possible. It was a very helpless feeling.
It was frighteningly hopeless and isolating. It brought forth something close to temporary insanity.
I wish I could explain it better. It was the type of feeling that leads to suicide. Alone, helpless, and hopeless.
It is an awful, awful feeling that anyone who has ever experienced suicidal thoughts for any reason or condition understands.
It is not simply sitting down stuck in hurt feelings. It goes beyond that.
The best I can describe it is being trapped under something far too heavy to lift off of yourself, but you can't make sense of what it is or escape because nobody can hear you scream or see that you are being crushed beneath an immeasurable weight.
I was alone suffocating and paralyzed in pitch black.
It was not that my boyfriend I loved broke up with me. That simple but serious sadness was not what made me want to be gone.
It was being in this place I landed after all of his intense hatred and cruelty. A place in which I didn't know where anything was, what anything was, who I was, why I was..
All I knew in that wretched place was that I had become all-consumed by a type of hurt only those who have fallen this low can fully comprehend.
I felt stuck, confused, lost, fearful, and such overwhelming pain that it was physically hurting my head and chest. I wanted to give up.
I saw no point. I felt worthless, powerless, lost, shocked, confused, broken. I felt like a waste of space. I thought I was nothing but a clueless, needy, harmful, useless, crazy waste. I was some negative..'thing.'
I believed that I was everything he had ever told me I was, and like everything he had just treated me like I was.
He treated me like I was nothing, and then I felt like I was nothing..
He had shown me that I was so flawed and worthless that he could easily go from wanting me forever, to disposing of me without flinching.
I was used to adopting his reality, my brain wasn't going to just suddenly catch on and stop now because he ended his game.
Logic wasn't going to swoop in and restore the imbalance of chemicals swarming around in my brain as a result of the toxic rollercoaster proven to be created within abusive dynamics.
You can't just 'snap out of it' or 'man up.' It has nothing to do with weakness of character at such a point. It has to do with brain chemistry and emotional turmoil from evil done to you by a person who doesn't care, doesn't understand, or a combination of the two.—The Main Discard
Every memory is depressingly tainted by not only the relationship's demise, but also by the fact that I now know nothing within it was ever what I thought it was. Knowing that the man I loved so fiercely is not only gone, but that he was never actually there, intensifies the pain of every single memory.
Moments we had together, and everything I thought was real between us, never existed.
All of the sleepless nights, the crying, the desperate longing, analyzing his insults, my effort, my forgiveness, my belief in him and us, it was all for a man who was never there, and for a relationship he was never a part of. — Missing Him
