BPD and a fork.

As a writer you get told to write what you know. Here's what I know. I'm pissed. I'm beyond pissed. My best friend has told me that my life has been an experiment in terror. And hes right. And I know that a lot of people have had it worse than me. But that doesn't take away my pain. I was different growing up. I felt like I didn't belong anywhere and that my parents loved my sister more than they loved me. Which is why I think I held onto my Uncle Howard as tightly as I did. Growing up and throughout my entire life I always felt like I was on the outside of a house looking at the people inside through the window. And they are all in there laughing and having fun but I'm outside in the dark and cold. My therapist once asked me why I didn't just walk in. What would that look like for me? I don't know what it would look like. I can't imagine what it would look like because I've never been "normal" a day in my life. At 15 my mom left us for good and I told myself I was glad because she obviously didn't love us. She left us all the time. Inside I was pissed. And I was hurt. My dad was too busy worrying about having a girlfriend to have sex with after that to be bothered with us. So I left and moved in with my aunt. I didn't know that I was putting myself in an extremely terrible situation.

Shortly after I moved in with my aunt I was talked into dropping out of school and getting a job. And eventually worked two jobs to support her gambling habits. I would get my checks and literally sign them and hand them to her. The whole time being verbally abused. Later on I would have to give her a certain amount of money or I would have to go and give plasma to get up the difference. Which still wouldn't be enough. But I endured it because I didn't have anywhere else to go. I was so desperate for love that I looked for it anywhere I could and with anyone I could find. And then I wound up at 18 leaving in the middle of the night in my Burger King uniform to go to Texas with my future husband. In the back of a Uhaul with nothing but my purse to my name. No money, no clothes, just me and my purse and my Burger King uniform that stank of stale whoppers. I had tried to tell my aunt that I was going to move out and it ended with her hitting me across the face and going to work with a bruised cheek the next day. I had to stay with her and give her my money so she could put it all in poker machines, cigarettes and bingo halls.

I thought that I had it better being with my children's father, my future husband, but I wasn't. He was also extremely verbally abusive. And I made myself deal with it because I had gotten pregnant shortly after we went to Texas. And of course I made a promise to my kids that I would always stay no matter what because I didn't want them to grow up the way I had. And to make matters worse, I let my church talk me into marrying him for my children. I told myself that it was what I wanted but the day of, I really wanted to back out. But I shook it off and got married anyway. 24 years later with years of having power cut off and not being able to pay rent and dealing with his gambling and pot smoking and finding out how he cheated on me wore me down. And that''s when I met my best friend who gave me a way out. I just had to save up some money to do so. I told my husband I was leaving and it drove him crazy. The last night I spent with him, he forced himself on me. I told him that we would not be having sex again because I was done, and he didn't like that answer. The next day I was in a good bit of pain and went to the doctor. I refused a rape kit but they made me do a urine sample and there was blood. The doctor knew that something had happened and called the police. My husband knew something was up and demanded that I come home. But the police were there and asking me a million questions. I was crying and scared. He was texting me non-stop telling me he was going to kill both me and my best friend. I was then talked into going and filing a police report. I refused to press charges because of my kids and they said it didn't matter because they were going to press charges themselves. He went to jail and I bailed him out. I was told I couldn't stay there with him at home so I left him money to pay the bills and left. My eldest daughter was still living there so I left on all the bills in my name. Of course, he quit his job soon after and went through the money I left him and left me with all the disconnection bills of everything I left on in my name. So now, after almost 5 years of being gone and trying to get on my feet, I will have to take on all the debt including owing the IRS for back taxes from where he didn't file for years and years. But they keep on adding late fees and he wont pay it so I have to. He currently does not have a job and I just want to get my divorce and be free of his crap.

There are a lot of people whom can't believe the above story of "that" night. They think they know my husband well enough to know that he would never do that. But no one knows him the way that I know him. I spent 24 years with this man. I know him better than anyone. And you would be surprised on just what you are capable of doing given the right circumstance. Nobody was there that night but myself and him. I know the truth and he knows the truth. He can try and rationalize it all he wants. But when he is holding my arms up over my head and forcing my legs open with his, what do you call that? He had to hold me down because I was trying to get away and hitting him trying to get him off of me. What do you call that? Because I know what it is and I let him get away with it for the most part. Because everyone was telling me that I was wrong. I wasn't wrong. I'm still not wrong. I hate him for that. I hate him for adding more pain to my life and the PTSD that comes from that night. No one has the right to tell me what happened that night.They weren't there. And I relive that night all the time. I will never forget it. And I get so angry when people feel sorry for him because he's not trying to better himself. He's living in a small RV on his sons land and doesn't have a job. But do you think he will take any responsibility for anything? Nope. It's all because of this person and that person and how he can never catch a break. But after almost 30 years he hasn't grown from when we first got together. Not one bit of growth, just excuse after excuse. And I'm just done. I am so done.

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