He Strikes Again

Cruel. The best way to describe him is a cruel, evil, narcissistic monster that will go to any length to hurt me. Crush me. Ruin my day & knock me down. How can anyone be so awful?

I’ve been doing well with no contact. Picking up the pieces of my life. Moving on. Yet, in one quick swoop he can bring me back to that moment. Back to looking in the mirror at the girl I don’t know. Back to sobbing uncontrollably as I don’t understand how someone can treat others so badly. How they can purposely try to put the light out on their eyes. How they can do whatever it takes to crush them. Hitting the perfect spot. Every time.

Tonight. Tonight I was having a great night. Staff meeting for the second job where shit was crazy. I decide to come home and happily decorate. That sounds fun. Doesn’t it.

Moving Halloween decor out I get the big, expensive floating reapers I bought last year. I put them in their spot and wonder about a cord. Closer look – The plug in to the wall has been cut. Seriously. Perfectly cut. I stare. Speechless. Check that it works with batteries. One part does. Look closer – He cut the other two cords to both reapers too. Cut. Them. Not accidental. Not a mistake. But legit perfect scissor cuts.

My first reaction was fuck you. I love Halloween. I love my decorations. Love them. No wonder he didn’t ask for them. He’d already disabled them. Purposely. Knowing right where it would hit the worst. Knowing the last of his control were my kids, my kids stuff and my beloved holiday items.

He also had to of known I wouldn’t realize right away. Not until closer to Halloween. Not until now. He knew he could leave and still get blows in. Still break my spirit. Still remind me of his control. That he will win. Always.

I stood there. Angrily. Swearing I wasn’t going to cry. And then the sobbing began. And I sat in the front yard. Between the grim reapers. Bawling. Uncontrollably. Wishing him the worst hell has to offer. Hating someone more than I ever thought I could. I’m sure my neighbors have decided I’m insane. Yeah. I am.

How can someone be so vindictive. So awful. So spiteful. So evil. How. Humans don’t treat people like this. They don’t. He isn’t human. He’s a monster.

I then cried harder. Controlling the urge to strap this thing to my car. Drive it to his yard and spray fuck you everywhere. No. I didn’t. I know better. He can’t see my reaction, my pain, the hurt. It’ll just fuel his fire.

But the evil. It’s horrendous.

My stepdad and Max both think they can fix it. We will see. Then Max asked if I’d drop off food as he’ll be working late in the lab. No. I’m an absolute mess. It’s fine. Just come. Do I think he wanted the food? No. I think he just wanted to try and comfort me from crying. He then asked if he does this stuff, how safe will I be when the divorce is over. When an attorney isn’t trying to keep him in line. Honestly – Not safe. I need him to fuck up the moment it’s over. I need a protection order.

Now I’m home. Staring at the wall. Feeling every ounce of progress I’ve made evaporate. Feeling like the world may crash at any moment. Locked away behind doors. Loaded gun. Full blown paranoia returned.

Will I ever sleep, without nightmares, and feel safe again if he’s alive, breathing, out there? I truly hope his semi blows up. It’s awful. I’d have guilt and regret for those thoughts. Yet, I also wouldn’t worry about what he’s going to do next. I may have guilt but I’d have peace. I’d be safe.