My birthday was last Saturday and even though I have someone new in my life who is real and kind totally opposite of my ex, trying to help me have a good day, I really couldn’t enjoy it at all.

The memories of last year’s birthday were just way to real and raw.

I only remember bits and pieces.. I have flashbacks of certain things that happened… That he did… What he put me through. But I guess I’ve blocked some details because I can’t remember how my night of terror started or what set him off. And, when I say “night of terror” I mean exactly that. I’m not being overly dramatic one bit.

I honestly believed it was going to be the last night I would be alive. I begged and begged for him to let me call my boys to say goodbye or at least record something for them but he refused.

The most horrible moment of it all was when he went to the bathroom and actually left me on the living room. I only had a t-shirt and underwear on but I didn’t even care… I ran for the front door but it was screwed shut from the inside. There were so many screws and I started trying to pull them out and that’s when I heard him. Laughing. Like a deep, evil cackle. Then he said “you’re not going anywhere”.

I felt so hopeless and defeated. And terrified.

So I started banging on the neighbors walls and yelling for them to call the police. “You’ll be dead by the time the cops could get in because everything is screwed shut” he said.

I remeber just being accepting of it all… That he was going to kill me. This was how I was going out. I’d be remembered as the one who was murdered by her psycho boyfriend. And he’d go back to prison for more than just domestic violence charges this time.

I also remember feeling sorry for him because he’d probably have to spend the rest of his life in prison. Even in the most sickening times I’d loved him and put him first… Wtf?!?!

That night I was choked with his arms around me and with his bare hands around my neck several times. He held a pillow over my face more than once until I was practically limp. I remember giving up and how I stopped fighting, kicking, screaming. I just gave up.

He’d punch me hard in the stomache and back and legs. He’d slap me across my face. Kick me when I was on the floor. Jab with his knife here and there.

Another thing he did that stands out the most as well as showed me his true evilness because I’d told him my biggest fear was being burned alive. And he sat there flicking his zippo over and over telling me how easy it would be to get away with lighting me on fire. He’d put the flame close to me, scaring me. He had a bottle of lighter fluid that he kept picking up making sure I saw it. Then.. he tossed liquid on me and threw the flaming zippo towards me… I was fucking terrified. But it was just water and the fire went out.

He continued to play that game every couple hours til daylight telling me I’ll never know when he’s gonna grab the actual lighter fuel instead of just water. I thought my biggest fear was happening.

At one point after he kept acting like he was gonna stab me by jabbing the knife all around me into the bed, he made me get undressed and go to the bathroom. We had a big, open walk-in shower. I had to sit down and he’d jab at me or throw the knives at me but he made me sit in that shower all together, about 4 hours because “it will be easier to clean up the mess”.

All this time we were both in our addiction and meth played a big part in out lives. And that night he kept making me smoke.. more and more. I was so high. So fucking scared. So exhausted and so drained. Everything was surreal. I didn’t understand what was done. I didn’t recognize him…

About daylight I could tell he was very tired. But, he demanded sex and all I could do was cry because all the sudden he started becoming the guy I’d loved again.. but HOW was I supposed to be able to be intimate with him after all he’d just put me through?!?! I couldn’t fathom it.

But he won. It was like I was a robot just going through the motions yet still waiting to die. I hated him so much but was also grateful the man I loved was back- loving and wanting me. God I was fucked up.

Severe trauma bonding!

He eventually fell asleep and I just laid there with silent tears rolling down my cheeks, muffling my cries. I waited until I could tell he was deeply asleep. And tried putting all my frantic thoughts into action.

All I knew was I had to find the drill or a Phillips screwdriver and be as quiet as possible. But he’d hidden everything really good. And I was still kinda in shock. I wasn’t thinking clearly and ended up waking him trying to pry out the screws with a hammer. I didn’t know what to think. What to say. What to do.

Absolutely defeated, covered in marks, bruises, hand and foot prints… Sore like you wouldn’t believe… Completely departed from reality… I climbed back in bed with him and fell asleep in his arms.

Happy birthday to me.

So true! I mean, I think most people THINK they know what love is. I think everyone has a general idea of how they feel love should be, how your supposed to feel and how you’re supposed to make your partner feel.

I’m a firm believer that there are different kinds of love and I think it’s totally possible to love someone without actually being in love.

I also believe love is an action and not so much a feeling. I know we feel it too, but, for love to go the distance there is a lot of things that go on besides just saying those three little words while you’re feeling the emotion.

But I do know (with some certainty) what love is NOT.

Love isn’t painful. It doesn’t allow your partner to think it’s ok to hurt you. Love isn’t putting hands on your partner either. It’s not pushing, hitting, slapping, pinching. You shouldn’t feel scare of the one you love. Love isn’t mean in ant way, shape or form. It is not screaming and yelling AA the time or intentionally hurting someone with your words. It doesn’t make you lose yourself and it doesn’t make you question your sanity. It’s not making up excuse or lying. It’s not about making you second guess yourself or question your sanity. Love is not making you jealous or insecure. Love is not wondering what your partner is always doing, where they’re at and who they’re with. It’s not putting spyware on their phone and feeling the need to record their every movement. Love doesn’t feel like a completion.

When you experience true, real, unconditional love those things will not be an issue. Because you’ll have that trust and respect to be transparent and therefore won’t feel the need to play detective. You’ll feel like the most important thing in the world and secure enough to not be jealous.

And everything won’t be a fight because you’ll know where you stand with your partner. There won’t be alking on egg shells and fear of the unknown.

You’ll feel worthy, valued and cherished. Honored.

And you have make a concious effort to choose love every day… Choose to love daily. Choose him or her over everything, every day. That means remaining loyal, faithful and honest. You don’t put yourself in situations that could damage those things. It’s called a partnership for a reason.

I know there’s a lot more and everybody’s ideas and values will be different. The bottomline is that we shouldn’t settle to be treated poorly. That’s what love is not.

Accepting the truth about my relationship with David has been just so damn hard. It’s been months since we were even together, and except for a few exchanges here and there, he basically just disappeared without a real explanation. And I just didn’t understand even though I felt things were off.

I can definitely accept the fact were over. That part I get. It hurt and I was sad but I was also relieved because I knew at that point that he was using me for money and acting very single. I was hurt that whoever SHE was, would be getting the best of him- the sober version while I only got the addict.

Facing the truths about the man I had genuinely loved with everything in me was heartbreaking. My mind just would not grasp the fact that he didn’t love me anymore. That he could just meet someone and forget about “the other half of his soul”… Just move on and be with someone else. Not after the way we were, the way he had loved me. I never had ant doubts before. He made me believe in his so-called love for me.

I think when we fall in love with someone we automatically trust in them. We trust in them to trust us, to want us and of course to love us back. And that’s what I did. I had no reason at the time to doubt him- not with the way he pretended to cherish and love me in the beginning. I guess that’s the reason I couldn’t accept he loved someone else more than me.

He hoovered a couple times and I’d start to give in but then he’d show his true feelings by rubbing it in my face that he’d had a few girlfriends since me- as well as sending me pictures of them together! It was so heartless but he obviously saw nothing wrong with it.

So I accepted that I’d been replaced. And I eventually accepted that he didn’t care anything about me and my feelings or the pain he caused. I accepted it was over and I could never let myself be weak for him again because I accepted he didn’t love me.

But the worst pard of it all, the hardest thing to accept has been that he’s a narcissist and never loved me at all. Having to face the truth about all the toxicity, the lies and the fucking betrayals took me a long time.

There were so many truths to accept… And it seemed like everyday I remembered another red flag that I eagerly ignored because the truth hurt too bad. There were so many lies! So many lies about other women! And SO MANY OTHER WOMEN!

So, then I had to accept I played a part in all of it because I allowed it. I didn’t question him about the obvious dating/hook-up sites I’d find in his history, the deleted messages and call logs, the use of texting app, him disappearing, his double standards and hypocrisy. Part of it was I was afraid of what he’d do to me but mostly I didn’t want to face the truth.

But accepting the narcisstic abuse and all that fell into that was another thing. I think I physically felt my heart shatter once I realized it was a “thing”.. that he knew all along I hadn’t cheated… That he preyed on me so he could use me for a place to live and money… That he set out to intentionally destroy me.

But all of it was true. So I recently made myself grasp all of these truths and once I accepted it was a one-sided, fake as fuck thing between us I could start to let go. I had to convince myself I fell in love with an illusion nothing was ever real on his part.

I accepted he used me.

Accepted I’d been played.

And, accepted that I fucked up believing in him, loving him, standing by his side.

Now that I’ve accepted everything for what it truly was I can begin to heal.

About 12 years ago I was diagnosed as having Borderline Personality Disorder and FINALLY some things started making sense. Things like why I have such a hard time letting go of people and/or relationships, my random mood swings and how I could not control my emotions (especially anger), how felt that everybody eventually leaves me, the way I push the people that care about away then try and convince them to come back (like I’m testing them) as well as the self-harm and risky behaviors.My psychiatrist diagnosed me with BPD after a very serious suicide attempt. And he basically told me there was nothing more he felt he could do at that point because I was becoming a statistic with my suicidal ideations. About 70% of those diagnosed attempt suicide. Somewhere around 10% succeed because of it. He said he thought I’d fall in to that 10%.It really hurt. My own doctor giving up on me and walking away right when I could finally put reasons why I behaved and reacted the way I did?!?! But, like I said, everyone leaves me.Its frustrating (not to mention damaging) the way my moods and reactions are so out of control. When something comes to an end it’s as if I just can’t accept it. I won’t. I seem to feel things so much more intensely then others probably why I hold on when most females would tell their partner to “fuck off”!Which is probably how I end up in these abusive relationships. I never feel I’m good enough. Never have. And so settling for being treated like trash is pretty much what I’m used to- the norm. Maybe that’s why I fell for David’s love-bombing so hard and fast.For the first time he made me feel not just wanted but NEEDED. He made me believe I was valued , special, cherished. I think that’s why it hurt so bad. I believed in him and trusted him to love me and be honest. To be the man he promised to be.Instead I ended up right back where I started- questioning my worth and just wanting the pain to go away. I could only numb it so much when I got high.The first discard, which was totally unexpected to me was devastating. I lost it. I begged. I pleaded. I threw fits. I hurt him. I couldn’t let it go and ended up once again in the ICU where it was touch and go. I was so hurt to find out later he basically bragged about me trying to kill myself over him.It wasn’t necessarily over HIM but at everything I’d gone through.. all the rejection and never being good enough. I felt completely abandoned.And unfortunately, my first reactive thought to anything (and I mean literally ANYTHING) is wanting to die. I just play it out and feel hopeless. And when I started writing this blog that’s exactly where I was at. I was determined to end it all because I’m so tired of hurting and struggling everyday. It seemed logical because I hated myself so much.Hated the way I acted and the way I thought about things. Hated the kind of daughter, sister, friend and mother I was. Felt like I failed at everything and nothing seemed to give me joy anymore. Seemed like I’d always be alone and I wasn’t even worthy of some heartless, cruel narcisst’s love. But that all changed.Learning that my relationship with David fit the pattern of narcisstic abuse finally let me make sense of things. Because it hurt way too bad to accept that he just stopped loving me and that I was so easily replaceable. But now, understanding he never loved me.. wasn’t capable of loving me as well as knowing it wasn’t ME personally because it’s his pattern to use and hurt women has helped to begin to let go.I fought my BPD so I could stop hanging on because reality is there’s nothing to hang on to. There never was. In some weird way that makes it easier. I still struggle daily with my first thought is wanting to die when something goes bad and have to take it day by day and moment by moment. And instead of feeling like he rejected and abandoned me I think of it as God did for me what I couldn’t do for myself.Sometime I just have to make myself focus on the fact that my behaviors aren’t mine but my BPD. I constantly remind myself that feelings are not facts. And I’m proof that time will heal. Yes he destroyed a lot of me but he doesn’t get to win and neither does my Borderline Personality.

I heard his voice yesterday when he called. It made my mind flood with memories. They started out as what I used to consider to be ‘good’ and for a second I even missed him.

I missed hearing him call me “baby” and saying “I love you”. It made me me miss his cute giggle and I could picture him smirking… That crooked smile that got me every time. I missed hearing the excitement in his voice when he talked about God… the sadness in his voice when he talked about his childhood and the love talking about growing old together.

But reality set in REAL FAST. And I asked myself what it was I thought I actually missed.. the way he called me a whore? The way he screamed everything at me? The way he told me to do the world a favor and kill myself? The way he told me I was worthless and unlovable?

Or was it that I missed being put-down? Made to feel ugly and gross? Made to feel I wasn’t good enough??? Even stupid…? Or the way he’d shame me with his words, accusations and lies?

Sometimes, I didn’t even have to hear his voice because his actions said it all.

And sometimes all I had to do was look in his eyes to see the distaste and contempt he had for me.

Was I missing the way he bragged about past escapades? Or the way he constantly reminded me other females hit on him and wanted him? Did I miss the way he’d yell “I hate you”?

I finally knew without a doubt that I really didn’t miss him at all.

I don’t miss being used, humiliated, scared, worried, belittled, hit, kicked, slapped, tormented or any of the other things he subjected me to. I don’t miss begging for his attention, being hurt and wondering where he’d gone. I don’t miss hoping things would go back to when I believed and trusted in him.

I do miss being loved, cherished, respected and valued. I miss being hugged and kissed and reaching out and feeling my partner next to me. And I miss miss having a best friend and a lover… Someone who is always there for me- someone I trust and admire.

But his voice didn’t bring those kind of memories back.

Because I don’t miss him.

I miss the man I waited for h to be, the one he fooled me into thinking he was.

I miss an illusion.

That’s all his voice really made me miss.