Tortured

It’s covid. 2020. Home schooling is in full flow. Susan’s work is deemed essential. She continues to travel to work as normal (as normal as normal can be). She’s gone at 6am in the morning and doesn’t arrive home until after 8pm every day. She’s not working those hours, she’s walking the park in the morning before work and again in the evening followed by… I don’t know what ( #entitlement ) .

I’m the home schooling person, the single parent person, the home cooking person. I’m also working well over 50 hours per week. I’m basically starting work again after our daughter goes to bed. I’d love nothing more than a walk from time to time but I rarely get it.

Every single day she devalues me with rage and contempt. Everything I do is bashed ( #devaluation #narcissistic-rage #vitriol ) . There are punishments. My clothes are packed into bags regularly. I’m ordered to leave the house ( #punishment #discard ) . The door to the wardrobe and only functional shower at the time are locked regularly as punishment ( #punishment #control ) . The coffee machine is disabled regularly as punishment. The rage continues ( #cruel #lack-of-empathy ) . Day after day, there’s no getting away from it. She follows me around the house ( #control #vindictive ) . She threatens to tell my family “all your dirty little secrets” (I’m not sure what those are BTW) ( #smear-campaign #manipulation ) .

This was torture. This was cruel. This was prolonged. This was sustained. This was relentless. This was malicious. This was sadistic. This was psychopathy. This is something I’ve never fully gotten over ( #cruel #malign #vindictive ) .

This was intentional, she told me so when she scoffed at me exclaiming “how much of this can you take, Jesus!” ( #malign #discard ) .

I now understand that I was being discarded. I would be hoovered once more after later expressing to a marriage counsellor that I had had enough. Two years later our divorce began in earnest.