The Truth pt. 2 (AND THANKS!)

Whoa.  I didn't realize the amount of support I would receive from all of you.  The last post I wrote was definitely not easy, but it was easier than I thought it was going to be.  It certainly didn't "flow" like a story should.  But...  it's good to get it all out.  One day, perhaps, I'll take everything I've written and form it into the best chronological story I possibly can.  Maybe.  If I ever run out of things to do!

I figured that, since I had such an outpouring of love from my last post, I'd continue writing a few more of my thoughts and life changing moments down.  It'll be easier, because I'm on a computer this go around.  Although I only have 8 minutes left, so this may be a short one.

Abuse victims often turn into abusers themselves.  It's what they're taught, it's what they learn.  He taught me that "love" was equal to "pain" and "violence".  So, I started to do it back.  NEVER, I repeat, NEVER have I ever shown that type of "love" to my son.  Nor will I ever.

I started having weird blackouts, where I wouldn't remember things.  I don't think it happened often, but it happened enough for me to remember talking about them.  They were weird.  I don't remember what happened during them, either.  Obviously, they were blackouts.  I think it was part of my "fight or flight" life that I had now established.  And I fucking fought.  Was it right?  I don't know, to be honest.  Am I sorry?  Nope.  I'm not sorry for hitting him back.  I'm not sorry for cornering him.  I'm not sorry for locking him in our bedroom.  Not one bit.  Because if I hadn't hit him back, or cornered him, or locked him in a room, I could be dead.  And I really, truly believe that.  Or I could have ended up in the hospital, which I'm surprised never happened.

So I'm not sorry whatsoever for defending myself.  And never, ever will I apologize for that.

I will apologize about the pain I may have caused him.  But never will I apologize for standing up for myself.

I remember after I found out about his mistress, the second family he tried to start.  I flipped the fuck out.  It was a terrible fight.  I threw his clothes off the balcony.  I threw his phone off the balcony.  There was so much yelling, so much screaming, and SO MUCH denial.