To Find My Voice...The First time he sent me to the hospital.
I tell you this not to merely allow you to be a voyeur into my life, or to share a bad experience, but to explain, and show you, why it is so important that we find our daughter's voices and show them how to use them.
After my first marriage, I befriended a guy. He was shy, evasive and yet somehow direct all at the same time. He was needy and alone and argumentative and drew me into his world with sharp comments and a pitiful existence.
The first few times my friend and I went to visit him he challenged me and my life, my world and made me second guess everything I was about. He was a MASTER at manipulation and he used his verbal tools well to make me feel that I knew nothing, I had nothing, and with his help, advice and criticism, I would be whole. I remember sitting on his couch and feeling so paid attention to, so seen, so clueless, and I knew that he was the way to round-out my existence and with him I could finally find out where I should be, who I should be, and how I should be.
I left him wanting more of him, needing more and clinging to the feeling of being scrutinized, analyzed and getting more attention than I had gotten in years. He played music from his computer that spoke to me, sang to me and wrapped itself around my mind, my heart and every feeling that I had been missing, and wanted to feel.
He belittled me and then would laugh it off, he would tell me that I didn't care about him and wait for me to show and tell him how much I cared. I would feel like a fraud if I didn't do what he said, I would feel like I was everything he said I was, if I didn't do everything he said I should do. I didn't know which way was up, I didn't know why I was so determined to prove him "wrong" about me, I didn't know why I was giving up so much to feel so needed, so "loved" and so much a focus of some one's life.
But isn't this the way manipulation and the mind game works...
The evening started out playful enough. I don't remember if we were out with "the group" or if I had just gone over to his apartment, but after awhile we started playing around. I was acting tough and was pretending to karate kick him in the side. We were laughing and joking and the next thing I knew I was lying on the ground in complete pain. He had grabbed my foot and thrown it up towards the ceiling flipping me up into the air. I landed on the carpeted cement floor on my side. I landed from about five feet in the air and the pain was shooting up and down my side. I couldn't believe it.
As I lay there crying and wondering exactly why that had happened, I couldn't help but wonder "what did I do wrong?" "why did he do this to me?" "did I hurt him when I "kicked" him?" I tried to stand up and knew I had to go to the hospital, and at the same time, I knew I couldn't go to the hospital either.
He acted as if he were completely justified in his actions. He acted as if "mess with the bull, get the horns...." and I got the horns. It was obviously my fault and if I hadn't put myself in that position, I wouldn't have gotten hurt. It was obviously not his fault, I shouldn't have been playing around...
I made my way to the car and remember thinking, "What a jerk! Who throws a girl up and on to the ground? Who hurts someone like that? Who overreacts and acts like that, I didn't even do anything! I freaking landed on cement for God's sake!"
I went to the hospital and fortunately only bruised my hip and leg. My ankle was bruised and I was a mess for a few days, but as a bruise fades, the thoughts of "What a Jerk," quickly turned to "I need to find out why he did that and fix it all."
But that was mild, that was a preview of the next couple of years, and that was the beginning of abuse, control and manipulation that would change who I would be, change who I knew myself to be and change the course of my life, forever...
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After my first marriage, I befriended a guy. He was shy, evasive and yet somehow direct all at the same time. He was needy and alone and argumentative and drew me into his world with sharp comments and a pitiful existence.
The first few times my friend and I went to visit him he challenged me and my life, my world and made me second guess everything I was about. He was a MASTER at manipulation and he used his verbal tools well to make me feel that I knew nothing, I had nothing, and with his help, advice and criticism, I would be whole. I remember sitting on his couch and feeling so paid attention to, so seen, so clueless, and I knew that he was the way to round-out my existence and with him I could finally find out where I should be, who I should be, and how I should be.
I left him wanting more of him, needing more and clinging to the feeling of being scrutinized, analyzed and getting more attention than I had gotten in years. He played music from his computer that spoke to me, sang to me and wrapped itself around my mind, my heart and every feeling that I had been missing, and wanted to feel.
He belittled me and then would laugh it off, he would tell me that I didn't care about him and wait for me to show and tell him how much I cared. I would feel like a fraud if I didn't do what he said, I would feel like I was everything he said I was, if I didn't do everything he said I should do. I didn't know which way was up, I didn't know why I was so determined to prove him "wrong" about me, I didn't know why I was giving up so much to feel so needed, so "loved" and so much a focus of some one's life.
But isn't this the way manipulation and the mind game works...
The evening started out playful enough. I don't remember if we were out with "the group" or if I had just gone over to his apartment, but after awhile we started playing around. I was acting tough and was pretending to karate kick him in the side. We were laughing and joking and the next thing I knew I was lying on the ground in complete pain. He had grabbed my foot and thrown it up towards the ceiling flipping me up into the air. I landed on the carpeted cement floor on my side. I landed from about five feet in the air and the pain was shooting up and down my side. I couldn't believe it.
As I lay there crying and wondering exactly why that had happened, I couldn't help but wonder "what did I do wrong?" "why did he do this to me?" "did I hurt him when I "kicked" him?" I tried to stand up and knew I had to go to the hospital, and at the same time, I knew I couldn't go to the hospital either.
He acted as if he were completely justified in his actions. He acted as if "mess with the bull, get the horns...." and I got the horns. It was obviously my fault and if I hadn't put myself in that position, I wouldn't have gotten hurt. It was obviously not his fault, I shouldn't have been playing around...
I made my way to the car and remember thinking, "What a jerk! Who throws a girl up and on to the ground? Who hurts someone like that? Who overreacts and acts like that, I didn't even do anything! I freaking landed on cement for God's sake!"
I went to the hospital and fortunately only bruised my hip and leg. My ankle was bruised and I was a mess for a few days, but as a bruise fades, the thoughts of "What a Jerk," quickly turned to "I need to find out why he did that and fix it all."
But that was mild, that was a preview of the next couple of years, and that was the beginning of abuse, control and manipulation that would change who I would be, change who I knew myself to be and change the course of my life, forever...
Click COMMENTS to leave a comment!!! Like what you read today? Post it to your Facebook page so everyone can read it! Click below to share!
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