Moving on – Option 1

Moving On

Crying

loudly-crying-face

 

We’re all humans, we all cry at something, whether it be a sad film or in empathy for a friend, or in my case the end of an abusive 2 year relationship.

 

I dated this guy for 2 years, and I have never known someone change as much as he did in those 2 years.

 

He started off loving and caring, and made me feel special, he gradually turned in to a manipulative monster hell bent on destroying my self-esteem, and you know what, he succeeded.

 

How someone could go from flowers and hand holding to venom and punches, I do not know.

 

I remember him saying to me, ‘If you want to leave, leave, but good luck finding someone else who’ll put up with your rubbish.’ I was mortified. I actually believed him that he was the only one who would put up with me. I thought I was some sort of monster.

 

I found myself making excuses for his harsh words or hands, but at the same time I found myself crying every day.

 

Eventually he left me, that’s right, he left me, I want nothing more than to say I kicked his sorry butt to the curb, but that’s just not true. I was devastated, still believing he was my only chance at happily ever after. I sobbed and sobbed for days, even weeks. I was inconsolable, I genuinely thought I was going to die alone.

 

I remember willing the working week to end, so I could hideaway at home from 6pm on Friday nights to 7am Monday mornings. I would go to bed on Friday night in one set of PJs, wake up Saturday morning, change into another set of PJs and spend the day on the sofa/in bed watching TV and crying whilst spooning a box of tissues. I would then drag myself into the shower (I’m not a total tramp) wash off the day’s misery put night time PJs on, cry myself to sleep, and repeat again the next day. I’m pretty sure I spent a good few weeks dehydrated because I definitely did not drink enough water to replace the amount I lost through tears. Gosh this is sounding incredibly dark and depressing – fear not, I’m all good now, the only thing to bring tears to my eyes are those sad adopt a dog adverts on the TV – and let me tell you I really let loose, I sob to my little hearts content and I look damn fabulous while doing it. Ok that might be a lie, but you show me anyone that can rock the puffy eyed, snotty, sobbing look.

 

I’d stand in the shower and belt out a rather sorry sounding rendition of Dolly Parton’s Jolene, changing the name and trying desperately to fit a 3 syllable name into a 2 syllable slot, then crying some more when I couldn’t.

 

Gradually, the tears were replaced by anger and temper tantrums, that story is to follow.

 

It took a while, but I learned that I didn’t have to depend on him. I was crying because I had lost him, but so often I had cried because he had me. He had me trapped in a web of negativity and hurt. If I could survive that, being without him would be a doddle.

 

I sincerely hope that nosey piece of poop is reading this… Look at me now, bitch. 😉

Moving on Part Two out next Tuesday at 9am

Love

 

Nicole

 

xoxo

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