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[enoughdonegone]

I got it!

I don't think I've ever left an interview feeling like I did my best, but today I laid out everything I had.

How will this impact me if I don't get it? Maybe badly, but I'll take the w today.

[enoughdonegone]

Breathe and believe.💙

[enoughdonegone]

I don't think I've ever left an interview feeling like I did my best, but today I laid out everything I had.

How will this impact me if I don't get it? Maybe badly, but I'll take the w today.

[enoughdonegone]

The interview apparently went well, seeing as they asked me to interview again for a more senior role.

It's tomorrow. I am nervous as hell.

I visited my parents tonight to see some visiting family. I told them about the job, how I'm qualified, and how they asked me to apply for the higher roles.

Everyone else: That's a great sign! Good luck tomorrow!

My dad: Well, don't get your hopes up. You know how these things go.

I got an interview with my municipality. Let the self doubt and self loathing commence!

[enoughdonegone]

A talent.

“I told her once I wasn’t good at anything. She told me survival is a talent.”

— Susanna Kaysen, Girl, Interrupted (via the-book-diaries)

[enoughdonegone]

i'm still trying to piece together the truth of it. when you left, you said: feel free to spin this narrative however you want. i have no idea if you were being cruel or if you just genuinely don't remember what you've done to me.

it's hard because i'd done so much of the work for you. i had seen the parts that flaked off, the rust underneath. i started separating you into two people - the one i loved, and the one who hurt me. i had this fantasy version of you - my partner - and then i had this stranger, a third person who would show up randomly to shatter me. i am deliriously glad i'm no longer with "the stranger". i miss the gentle (unreal?) "other" you terribly.

at first, i was so strict about my boundaries. i remember telling you to get the fuck out of my house if you were going to talk to me like that. by the end: i would justify your behavior for you, accepting even your mistreatment as "my fault" in the grand scheme. i look back on the person i was before you - smart, independent, confident - and i feel a strange sense of detachment. i don't even recognize me.

even in one of our last conversations, you said: if you want a partner that always talks warmly to you, find someone else. there was a time that a comment like that would have made me leave. and instead, somehow, i just placidly accepted that kind of thing. you were literally telling me that i wasn't allowed to have a reaction to your cruelty - and i just took it, because you'd so fully turned things around on me.

when people are faced with irrationality, a rational brain tries to make sense of it. this is the trap. they're lovely in the morning, gentle and blue-eyed and sweet. like nothing even happened, they breeze around the house and kiss you on the mouth. but at night; who is that? they snap almost randomly; flying into an impotent rage about just-about-anything. it just doesn't make sense. so the problem must be me, and my brain, and how i think.

the traumatized brain just wants peace. so maybe i'm misremembering. maybe you were just having a bad day. maybe it's actually me.

you eventually would fully turn on me and start implying that i am the bad actor in our relationship. that's what happens, right? that's literally in the playbook. you went to therapy for all of a month, told her a half-truth, co-opted therapyspeak. you figured out how to reframe your actions as "seeking peace." any time i stood my ground, i was "gaslighting." when i asked you to be more gentle, you said i was "tone policing." you said, randomly, i had emotionally manipulated you - i still have no idea what that's even specifically referring to. maybe my consistent requests for calmness and empathy?

and while i literally know better, and i'm sitting here, trained by you, thinking: wait, fuck. was i actually the person you made me out to be?

and the thing that scares me is that i literally do not know if you ever actually saw what you were doing to me. when you'd tell me how you remember arguments, you'd always summarize them in a way where you come off as gentle and easy: "i was trying to set an important boundary." what had actually happened was 15 minutes of you shouting at me i know you did something shady, just admit it already. eventually you'd say my reaction to your shouting (when i finally reacted, which usually happened around hour three) was inevitably "disappointing" and "another way i'm silencing your feelings."

how many times did i ask you - beg you - to just take accountability? looking back, i don't think i ever heard you say: you're right. the way i talked to you was wrong of me.

i am trying to tie together the two people into a full version of you in my head. yes, you made my coffee and made me laugh and spent hours on the phone with me. and yes - you would scream at me until i had to run away and hide behind something.

i wish i did have a narrative i could pull out and shape to my whim. i wish i did have some semblance of reality. instead i just stand here, strange and vibrating, wondering: what the fuck just happened?

[enoughdonegone]

Catharsis

I just wrote a really fucked up scene in my fic. She kills her abuser.

There's so many content warning pieces here that I don't know where to begin, but I might let people read it.

[enoughdonegone]

I married my lady today.

It rained hard through the ceremony which was outside, but we laughed through it. It was great.

I was being dragged deeper and deeper into the hells 9 years ago by a monster. Today, I felt so relaxed and content with my gentle partner on my arm.

My wife and I got home from lunch with our favourite people about an hour ago. We cleaned up and are now huddled up in bed for a nap/rest.

I have bad days. They might never go away.

But today? Life is good.

[enoughdonegone]

I was never taught to process my emotions. Crying either felt like letting someone win or like an annoying inconvenience. I'd try to stop the moment I failed to keep it in.

I remember being angry and feeling like I was going to explode. I also remember getting absolutely no validation for it.

"Overreacting."

"Calm down."

"Don't fly off the handle."

"It doesn't matter"

"Stop making such a big deal over nothing."

This made everything feel worse. I was 6 or 7 or 8; what context did I have for classifying inconveniences as big or small?

What was the right thing to do here? I never learned. But I definitely got punished when I screamed as loud as I could to release the energy. Or bit my older brother when he took one of my toys and threatened to break it.

I was taught that adults just manage, and I needed to do better. That was the end of the lesson.

[enoughdonegone]

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There are several villains in the piece I'm writing. But the first one is an abuser. He controls, compels and manipulates my main character until she is barely a person.

I know just what I'm going to name him.

[enoughdonegone]

“I am finding my way back to myself again. slowly, patiently, intricately. I am finding roads in between my heart and my mind that connect. I am finding melodies that taste good on my soul. I stray and i take detours occasionally, but I am finding my way back to myself again.”

— Unknown (via surqrised)

[enoughdonegone]

I got an interview with my municipality. Let the self doubt and self loathing commence!

[enoughdonegone]

My ex is a bad guy. Period.

Do I think he may have had some irregularities in his brain? Undoubtedly.

Do I have theories? Yes.

Do I have any qualifications to diagnose him, formally or otherwise? Absolutely not.

So will you ever hear my theories? No.

More importantly, would a diagnosis impact my experience?

Would labelling him with a personality disorder help me understand why he'd kick me in the ribs when he had me pinned to the floor in fetal position? Would it help me feel better about why he'd move all the goal posts whenever I was tasked with something? Would it change the deep-rooted insecurity and lack of self worth that he exacerbated by poking at my vulnerabilities for thirteen years?

The short answer is no. None of this would help me feel less crazy or damaged. Though there are a lot of people that want to sell you books, website access, programs, specialized therapy, etc that will tell you otherwise.

We're all struggling with the why, especially in the early stages. This narc abuse stuff can really sound good when you're still reeling. I fell into the hole in the beginning too. However, I learned quickly that there is no additional insight to be found in this shit.

But you know who might be negatively impacted? Someone with a formal diagnosis who's just trying to get through their life. Someone who just got thrown under the bus collectively, innocent or no, for something that isn't their fault.

I'm not interested in that. I condemn deeds, not diagnosis.

Why don't you "believe in" narcissistic abuse? Malignant narcissists exist. Emotional and physical abuse exists. Why not abuse coming from a malignant narcissist?

Because you can just call it emotional and physical abuse. There's no abusive action that only narcissists can commit.

[enoughdonegone]

He's selling our house for, like 300% more than we bought it for.

I looked through the pictures; he finished the basement that he used to torture and threaten to kill me in. Also, he's still using a lot of my things in the staging.

I wish I could say that I don't care but I'm ENRAGED.

[enoughdonegone]

Is it possible to write a montage of smutty scenes in a fic?? Have you done it successfully? Have you read a good one?

Please send if you can. Mine is not going well.

[enoughdonegone]

what’s it called when you’re so disconnected from reality that cold water doesn’t feel like anything and you can barely taste food anymore

[enoughdonegone]

Baby, when has canon ever slowed any of us down?

Think of the gay children on this website! 💔

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