I feel like I have said too much lately but it is because I spent years not saying anything at all. I was too embarrassed to speak about such things. I felt like a fool, an idiot and pathetic.
People tell me I am intelligent, how could the smart girl allow such terrible things in her life?(It must have been my fault). I fall naturally into deep depression. It’s a constant battle to keep standing and sometimes the pain is so unbearable I literally fall to my knees. I have felt so alone in my suffering, unable to put words to the crazy things that happened.
I have spent countless hours reading about others that experienced psychological abuse. It’s honestly the only thing bringing me comfort right now. While I know those around me care, most can not truly understand what I went through and some, quite frankly, can’t even see why. This is why psychological abuse is so insidious. You don’t wear your bruises on the outside and the world around you asks “Why do you still care? Why are you bothered? Get over it. Fuck them.”
Well intentioned as these comments are, they are not helpful. I am on my journey to heal from this past (nearly) decade and unfortunately I have to bring to surface the ugly truth about all of it. I have driven myself literally to the brink of insanity, having severe mental breakdowns and struggling with suicidal feelings all because I kept this suffering deep inside.
I was happy, smiling Jayla. I had to be strong and keep up appearances. Perhaps if I acted like everything was okay, eventually it would be? That’s was the hope anyway and my intention. If I could be happy for him, he would eventually be happy for himself. If I was sober, he would be sober. If I loved him, he would love me…
None of that came to pass and I destroyed every ounce of confidence, strength and self worth that I barely had to begin with in this process.