29.6.18

Songs should come with a trigger warning

Today, as I was driving, Rihanna + Eminem's song "Love the Way You Lie" started playing on the radio.
I started singing along- as I do with most songs, especially if I know them and moreso if it's Eminem- and next thing I know, I have to pull over because I'm crying and feel my heartbeat become a suffocating blow all over my body.

This song. This particular song. It had been so long since I listened to it and it had been so long since it took me back.
When this song came out, I was in a relationship that had its ups and downs (oh boy) and scarred me in many ways.
When this song came out I realised the relationship was not healthy and normal; it had finally come to an end.

I can tell you here and now, it is fucking hard to get out of an abusive relationship. But I can also tell you, here and now, that no matter how hard and gruelling it feels, getting out of it is always the  better choice. It's a choice you have to make yourself for yourself.

I knew it was a toxic relationship when I started feeling guilty; mostly from just talking to someone of the opposite sex, and when these innocent interactions made me fear for their safety and mine.
Emotional blackmail was disguised as affection and possessiveness as quality time.
And you start to believe that these are true demonstrations of love and care. You start to believe that sex means they do care. You start to believe that they're the only ones who'll love you because that's what they've made you believe.

When I did eventually break up with him it was as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, off my whole body. But it also was the beginning of what I knew awaited me and I was dreading. Blackmail and possession quickly turned into obession.
The night I broke up with him, I had 105 missed calls. I had 80 or so text messages. All in a span of 3 hours. I had one friend escort him home and another escort me.
The following weeks I'd have to make sure he wasn't waiting on my front stoop a block away so as to avoid him and any altercation.
Suicidal threats and drunk voice messages kept coming in.
I'd have to ask the security guard where I worked to keep and eye out and walk me out when I was done with my shift.
The following month I kept getting hate mail immediately followed by "love" mail full of regret from the previous email.
My roommate wanted to file a restraining order on my behalf but I was still too afraid.
I rode it out.

Friends like my roommate kept me safe and busy. Friends like my roommate helped me talk, helped me feel sane and that my intuition was right. Friends like my roommate remind you love doesn't hurt. And that's the kind of love everyone is deserving of.

Because people who say they love you don't train you to fear them.
People who say they love you don't force you into things.
People who say they love you don't blame you for their insecurities and actions.
People who say they love you will understand when you walk away because they respect you.

We all carry our scars and it's our job to take care of them, to live the healing process. We can't judge others by their scars or experiences, and much less wound them in any other way

And so, for the first time in a while, I felt like writing it down. Like letting it out. Like letting it go. For the first time I peel the bandage off this scar.