🧚🏼‍♂️ I inhale my courage & exhale my fear.🧚🏼‍♂️

I am beautifully broken. But there is nothing stronger than a broken woman who had to rebuild herself. What didn't kill me, made me stronger. From the ashes, I rise. I am a beautiful fucking disaster. These are a just few of the things that make me a beautiful disaster.

I survived a relationship with a narcissistic psychopath, what's your superpower? To say that I only identify with the brand, is an understatement. I embody the Beautiful Disaster brand. Please I, let me start at the beginning.

Ever since I ever started dating at 14, I was with guys that would hurt me. Emotionally, mentally, they would use me and cheat on me. I met my husband and he seemed great until we said "I do". Suddenly I was property. We had 2 children together. He continued to be mentally, emotionally, and financially abusive.

I always felt like there was something wrong with me though. I was very depressed. I went to the doctor and he diagnosed me with depression. Put me on antidepressants. I came home to tell my husband. I wasn't allowed to take the medication.

I finally got the courage to leave. I left my children with him because I was in no state mentally to care for them (they were 4.5 and 2) and got an apartment. He served me separation papers, told me not to read them, just give them to a lawyer to sign, which I did. The lawyer told me not to sign it. I started crying and told him if I don't, he won't let me ever see my kids again. So it was signed. I saw the kids here and there. But I was messed up. I was drinking and partying, dating this guy and that. Then my ex moved. A year later I followed.

Now I'm back in my hometown, my ex living an hour away. I'm still seeing the kids, when I'm not I'm drinking and partying. I finally go see my doctor, the doctor who knows me really well. I told him he needed to do something because something is very wrong with me. I'm not just depressed. He sent me to a psychiatrist who diagnosed me with Bipolar Disorder and Borderline Personality Disorder. But I wasn't medicated properly.

About a month later I ended up swallowing a whole brand new bottle of my medication. I should have died. But I didn't. I ended up in the psych ward for a month. When I got out I swore things would change. But my disorders disagreed. I was drinking, doing drugs, and partying all the time. About a year later, I told my mom that I felt like killing myself again. She drove me to the psych ward and I was admitted again for a month, exactly a year later. ,

This time things would be different. I promise! I had a good job, I was single and was going to stay that way. I would take my meds properly. I had a good feeling. And things started to go alright. I was doing pretty good. It lasted about 8 months. And then I met "him". I was at a house party. And he was saying everything I needed to hear. He was what I was missing in my life. He was my knight in shining armour. It was a whirlwind. He swept me off my feet like no one ever had before. I started doing cocaine again. And I even started drinking. This guy had some sort of power over me. Or so I thought. I didn't know that all narcissistic psychopaths have this sort of power over people. Or rather, they know exactly what to do and say to gain control over you. This was May 2015.

Within 2 weeks I was living with him, May 15, 2015. There were so many red flags I could have mad a beautiful scarf with them. He was a cocaine dealer for crying out loud!! By August 8, 2015, I was at the ball field with him. He thought I was staring at a guy (I was watching a little boy play ball in the same direction as the guy) and when we got back to the house he beat me up so badly. I don't remember this, but I guess I contacted my mom and sent her pics of my face. She called the cops and came to get me. The cops found us (I guess we were running from them) and found him. He was arrested, I went with mom to the hospital. I needed emergency plastic surgery on my eye before I lost it. He shattered my orbital floor. Among other things he did. So off I went, away from him for a month, but he sucked me back in.

When I got back to my home, I quickly packed. He came and got me. I know, what an idiot! But he said all the right things, again! And this time it was worse. I was beaten, strangled, tortured on a daily basis. He even cut my favourite Beautiful Disaster scripty tank off me because I was “not beautiful, I was a horrid ugly dog”.

I was isolated from everyone I knew. I had my cell phone taken, all of my social media taken over. I went nowhere without him and was never left alone. He would use my cell phone to pretend to be me and message my kids. He would tell them them that “I” wished they were abortions because they had ruined my life. Dick and drugs would always be more important to me than them.

Words cannot convey the hell I was in, for the next 3 years. I was made to sleep naked on the floor like a dog under an open window, freezing cold bottles of water dumped on me. It was -30 C outside. I was made to eat his feces mixed with dog for and his urine. He used to beat my dog! There was so much more he did, but its worse than I could ever type here. For a whole year, every night on that cold floor, I would  think of ways to escape.

August 24, 2018 at 10:32am, with the clothes I wore, my wallet I had for ID, nothing else as he drained my account and credit cards, I risked my life to save my dog, and we literally ran for our lives. We snuck out while he slept. We ran so fast and we didn't look back.

We made it back to my hometown and my mom and dad. I stay there for about a month and then moved in with my sister and her family. I am a live in nanny to her three kids and I love it. The day I escaped was the day I became clean and sober. I've even quit smoking 4.5 months ago. My kids won’t talk to me and I don’t blame them. I just wished I had a chance to explain what happened, explain my side. Maybe one day I can.

I found a great group where I live that helps women like me. I have gone to women's groups to learn about abuse, and self discovery groups. I go to counseling once a week, I see a psychiatrist once a month, and I'm on my way to being properly medicated. I can honestly say I have never ever felt so amazing in my life. I am so positive despite what I endured and had to overcome. I am thankful for what happened to me, because it taught me so much about myself, and how strong I am. And I am proud of the woman I have become, because I fought to become her.

Leave a comment

Please note: comments must be approved before they are published.


June 19, 2020