I wanted so bad to be different

I wanted to be more fucked up than you all. I wanted so much fo rit to be all my fault. Its so much eaiser for me that way, its all I know, Its comfortable is a sick twisted way. If I could be more of a fucked up human being then it could be my fault and i wouldnt be like you all who deserve so much better. That made sense.

B was abusive to say the least but I dont want to face all of what he was, I didnt want to see what was right in front of me. But preparing for this divorce trial has left me no other choice. the paperwork, the facts thrown in my face over the past few weeks is beyond describable. There is nothing and i mea nothing that b has told me that is true. In fact I am sure he lied about what size underwear he wears. I know a lot of you are shaking your head going "your point Emj, this isnt a news flash" but I thought he was different, I mean I thought all these years that I was the reason things were so bad. Its eiaser to make sense of it all, eaiser to believe that I allowed all that happened to happen if it was because i wasnt good enough.But all these facts, I mean written down on paper by people I dont even know facts, that HE really is THAT fucked up. I dont think ive ever thought a more truly sad thaought than the thought that all that ive been thru the past ten years was for nothing, absolutly nothing, all of what he did, wasnt because i was a "prude" or needed to "try harder". And facing that makes it so incredibly painful.

I can no longer truthfully say its all my fault for the bad nights, for the failure of what was so desired, what I gave so much for, what never existed. What I so despreatly wanted, yearned for, gave everything for allowed SOOO much for never ever fucking exisited. And fuck that hurts to see that, to say that, to admit that. Im 37 years old and ive never been enough. Ive never really been loved. In some twisted fucking way I thought all the things he did were "okay" or "managable" because at least he loved me, at least finally someone loved me, FINALLY I was enough. But the truth is he didnt love me, his words, his promises to love me, to keep me safe, they were just lies, like everything else out of his mouth. EVERYTHING.

Im really struggling with admitting this because in doing so i have to face the fact that i didnt get what i had yearned for, i didnt get loved, it wasnt just that i failed at it, it was that it never fucking happened. I am so tired of not being enough, enough fo rmy mother to love me, enough for my father to acknowledge me, for once in my life I just thought I was enough the way I am, but he so blantenly pointed out that I was far from it.

I just wanted to be loved for me, chubby, scared, homely, simple but so much love to give, loyal and devoted beyond devoted.I just wanted to be enough. I would have and did give everything to finally be loved and it was for nothing.

I sat in therapy today in and out of flashbacks freaking out becasue they seem to be getting worse, my stutter is getting so bad that people are noticing and pointing it out, I have court next week and how in the fuck do I do this and Dr D looks and me and says "Its time, its time you quit picking up where they left off. Its time to admit the fear, stop blaming you and face what really happened. She said B has no control over me anymore, that i took that back when I left and I need to stop giving it back to him. She said he doesnt have the "right" to destroy me.

I wanted so much to be different from all of you, I mean nothing mean by that, I just dont want it to be true, I want to believe that I am just not loveable. It is so much easier to believe that I am unloveable than it is to face that he never loved me. That probley doesnt make sense, but it does in my head.

I have wasted so much of everyones time on this forum asking why, trying to make it make sense in a way that i wouldnt have to face reality, whouldnt have to see him for what he is, wouldnt have to open my eyes and heart to the pain. Becuase if I put on my glasses and actually face the truth of my last ten years means I hav eto admit he is a horrific human being, a psychopath at its worst and I ALLOWED HIM TO DEPLETE ME.

I get if many of you are frustrated with me at this point going hey dumb ass, this is all obvius if you just read whats here to help you, but the thing is Ive read it all, over and over, but never would let down the wall that it could possibly be that he is what he is, because that meant all that my body has suffered was for nothing. I dont know if you can understand what I mean by that, but somewhere in my mind it makes it "okay" that I cant control my bladder because of things hes done as long as it was because I wasnt good enought, but if it is because he is a sick mother fucker that didnt give a shit as he was doing all that, well, that I dont swallow all to well.

I am sorry for babbling, Im sorry if I am not getting it, but its not for lack of trying, I am throwing every last ounce of me into getting to the other side, gettng to my dance in the rain. Im just so tired and so lost. Im hurt and scared and angry to admit that he took from an empty pot and didnt give a fuck. I hate him for what he has done, I hate even more that I feel guilty for saying I hate him. But in the past few weeks the things Goldie and others have taught me, said to me, shown me and the past few days the things, the facts that have been put in front of me make it next to impossible to not see that he never really exsisted, at least the part that I loved, the part that i gave everything to.

Im sorry ive really tried to stop my babbling on here, but i have no where else to go. Im sorry for thinking I could be different, Im sorry for thinking he was different, "the exception to the rul", I know now I cant just blame me cuz it makes it easier, I have to face the reality, the pain of the dream I thought I had, the thought that I finally was loved, was finally given a chance to prove Im enough and had just failed once again, never exsisted. I guess you could say I am finally "Understanding it" and that fucking hurts.