The week I left I wanted to make him hurt like he hurt me, or humiliate him, out him to “Al” his side piece. I had all sorts of ideas. I thought about taking salt and writing “cheater” in the snow on his front lawn. I wanted to print a bunch of signs with different words to tape to the walls of his bedroom. Words like: selfish, self centered, liar, cheater, genital warts, con artist, deceiver, phony, prick, asshole, user, sadistic, high risk, abuser, vicious, cruel, whore. I wanted to print his many dating/swinger profiles and tape them up along with all those words, plaster his bedroom walls with them. Knowing she would see them first, since they’d run and duck in his basement bedroom right after coming into the house. I think that was the most creative idea I had. One of my friends suggested sticking a piece of fish in the box spring of his bed to rot. I thought of telling Al to google search his screen name, or phone number so that she would find his numerous active dating profiles.
I did none of those things.
What I wanted more was to get out and get far away from this evil person (for lack of a better term) who delighted in hurting us. We didn’t spend another night in that house. I went back to get my belongings, when he was at work and only the roommate was home. I took what was important to me and left the rest. Just the thought of having to go back to that house, even when he wasn’t there, started me shaking.
I had nightmares the first month that I was out, that is when I was able to sleep. I’m finally sleeping, without the nightly use of sleep aids, for the last three weeks. I started taking vitamin D3 and vitamin B complex daily. I believe it’s helped my mood and my sleeping.
I have gradually started doing the things I wasn’t allowed to do while I was with him. Like talking to people outside of work, reading, reading and more reading. Reconnecting with friends, spending time with my kids, watching TV, and walking.
The weight is still falling off. I’m eating, drinking protein shakes daily, and eating junk food. I think there’s still too much stress. I don’t own a scale, so I don’t know exactly how much I weigh. Note to self, buy bathroom scale.
I no longer think of him, or what he’s done constantly through out the day. Though there’s some days I have to take 5 minutes at a time. I’m recognizing triggers, which is helping. I’m not walking around in a state of disbelief like I was right after.
I keep hoping he’ll stop, finally just leave me alone, instead of coming back to twist the knife.