I've talked about my last relationship, and about the abuse and the trauma.. But still, there are some details that I have left out, most of them too ugly and painful to be retold, and some of them, just truths i don't wanna deal with. Until I declared to my best friend that I want to seek professional help.
Yes, I've been thinking about it, even dreamed about it. Nothing in my blog may have hinted that until now. But things have gotten even crazier than before. Try starting up a product a month after a major life-threatening surgery, then ramp it up to 1MU/week, while going through a major court case. And somewhere in between, throw in abusive spats with the ex.
I've refused to involve my family in this, and none of them know the extent of what I'm going through, because I don't want them to go through the same agony and pain. I've involved my friends but most times, I just shut them out because I don't want to become their burden. Somewhere along the way, I formed friendships with the wrong men, probably thinking there's less collateral damage with them, just mostly my own.
But today my best friend called me up. And in those 18 years of friendship, I had never known she has gone through a similar situation that I had. She chose to downplay it, and she chose to keep quiet about the real deal. Until now. Until she saw me spiralling down, and allowing myself to do so. And I shed a tear or two, not for myself this time, but for her who had to endure it all alone. She stayed in that abusive relationship for more than a year, because she was so sure she was not worthy to be with anyone else. She did her best to please her man, to appease him, to make him respect her. She eventually found the strength to exorcise him out of her life. But not without a price. She got married to the next guy who showed her love and respect, thinking that nice men are a rarity and she probably would never ever meet someone like him anymore. She chose to tell me all these things now, because she knows that she can help me not make the same mistakes that she did. And because she knows I'm made of much stronger stuff that I would like to give myself credit for. And I have never appreciated her more.
And so after weeks and weeks of waking up each day and barely brushing my hair and just going through the motions, I finally decided it's time to start living again.
Today I painted my toenails orange. And tomorrow, I'll wear a smile. Once again.
Labels: abuse, life, relationships
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