Surviving the Abuse Addiction by Justice C.;

Author:Justice, C.;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
Published: 2020-02-18T00:00:00+00:00

The First Thing I Did Was Laugh!

I lived with my dear friend and her family. She essentially took me in. Months after the epic battle, I gave up my apartment. I had to do it for my sanity. I started drinking a lot when he finally did leave. It took a little over a year from the pleading incident and the ass-kicking that started this book, ‘Epic Battle’. The drinking was only when I was home. As I mentioned, I worked 21 days and had seven days off. During those seven days, I got very little rest. I spent countless nights staring out the window. This apartment was on the ground floor, facing the front of the building. So I could see the parking lot. Each and every car that drove in and out of that parking lot was checked by me to see if it was him. This is what they call the withdrawal stage. He was gone. I was surviving. But there was no air. I could not breathe on my own, or so it felt.

Those seven days off from work were the longest days. During the day, I sat in my place with the curtains drawn enough to let some light from the sun seep in, not enough to show the neighbours that I was home. All the knives were in a pillowcase buried in my closet and the door was partially blocked.

I had to hide the knives. Seeing them out kept me in a perpetual state of fear. Having them individually put to my throat on repeated occasions is a memory I am in the process of forgetting. It has affected me though. To this day, I don’t have many knives in my kitchen and none of them are very big, for that matter.

I knew it was better that he was gone, yet I longed for him to come back. I sent countless text messages to his phone. When he did not respond, I would call. I knew he was with that woman. The one I found him with in my house that fateful night, the same one who brought him coffee at midnight. Anyway, that is who he ultimately left me for. Here I was begging but cussing. I was hurt. I was angry. I was extremely angry. My therapist was scared, very scared at one point during one of our sessions.

Yes, counselling is the key. You need to talk to someone after you have gone through an ordeal like this one.

I was ashamed, embarrassed and humiliated. The worst part is that I was mortified of being alone. I truly did not know what to do so I kept vigil day and night for seven days a month. Watching, hoping, waiting, wanting and having no idea why. Most times I did not talk to anyone. When I did, I never once let on what I was doing. I would rush the call—it was taking away from my surveillance. Then it would be time to go back to work.

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