[felt this should be a post not just a story] This all might sound jumbled and a bit hard to read, but these are the moments burned into my memory.
The last relationship I was in was four years ago... The emotional abuse started right away. “You’re beautiful, but you shouldn’t wear that outfit.” “Girls like you pine over guys like me” “you’re not the normal girl I fall for” “those guys were only lookin at you because you were the only woman in the restaurant, what else were they suppose to look at, plus look how you’re dressed you were asking for it and wanted to make me jealous” I stayed.
And the lies, they never stopped. “What’s in your pocket? Nothing? I just saw you put a baggie in your pocket. Megan you really want to see what’s in the baggie? It’s Vicodin. It’s Percocet. It’s OxyContin. It’s dilaudid! Wait, my dilaudid from my tonsillectomy?? Are you going to get clean? Yes, just need to finish these off, but I don’t really have a problem.” I stayed.
Anther boxed wine? Didn’t you just buy one last night? You’re drunk again. It’s Tuesday at 11 p.m. I stayed.
It was Thanksgiving and he had fallen asleep at the kitchen table with a fork in his mouth. He’d taken too many Vicodin. My father “tell X to stay out of his dad’s pain meds”. I stayed.
We were driving back from the hospital. He tried to jump out of my car going 50 mph. I just went in to grab the rest of my stuff. He knocked the box out of my hand and as I went to go pick it up, he hit me “what, you like that in the bedroom, what’s different about it now.” I stayed.
I went to visit him in the mental institution. I saw his diagnosis - bipolar. I stayed.
He got home from the hospital and he told me he was fine. And everything was my fault. I left.
#herlifeoutside #writersofinstagram #tellyourstory #mentalhealth #writing #writingcommunity #mystory