Believe Survivors

Covert. Malignant. Pathological. Dangerous.

Just a few words that can describe you.

You know, but you don’t care.

Your image protects you.

I’ve been chipping away at it. Little by little. Bit by bit.

I am positive I’ve cast a negative shadow on you.

I am positive I’ve planted a seed of doubt in others.

But I believe they’re choosing to overlook it. They’d rather believe a false image. It’s easier to pretend and overlook the bad.

The ball has started rolling.

The truth may sound insane and unsettling. That’s because it is. And I’m trying to make it stop. It’s best for all if you believe the one who is trying to tell you what’s happening.

Same Play, Different Strategy

I’ve seen your playbook

I’ve become familiar with the plays

I’ve seen you mix things up

In the last week, I’ve seen you pull out the playbook again. You haven’t really used it in awhile. You’ve been sticking with the same play for a few weeks. Now, you’ve gone back to re-use one of your old plays.

You started very subtly.

It could have been easily missed.

But it was the timing of the play that gave it away.

Then you repeated it. For several days in a row.

The play isn’t new. But the timing of the play is.

Same play, different implementation.

Do I think it’ll stop? No. I think it’ll get worse. That’s the way you work.

The obsession will continue. The plays will continue. You won’t stop until you get a reaction. You won’t stop until you win.

I know you’re going to repeat the play again. It’s not a matter of ‘if’, but ‘when’. It’s one of your favourite plays.

The Obsession

You’ve developed an obsession

I didn’t notice it right away. I had no reason to. I just thought you were determined to get your way.

It took awhile to notice, so I can’t exactly pinpoint when the obsession started. I just happened to start noticing things. Little things.

After awhile, it became apparent that you had developed an obsession. It’s gotten to the point where it’s reminding me of the song Every Breath You Take by The Police.

I see the obsession

I see the ripple effect. The walking on eggshells. Not wanting to say anything. Nor do anything. I know no matter what I do, it’ll result in you digging in your heels to punish.

The obsession. Something I’ll never understand, nor will I try to. But it’s there.

The obsession.

The Frustration

I have a feeling you were told.

Yesterday, you did something you haven’t done in months: you turned the heat on.

It may not seem like a big deal. But it was a Saturday. You always leave the heat off on a Saturday. The bylaw officers don’t work weekends, so you make it a point to leave the heat off because of it.

Yesterday, it was cycling. The way it was cycling indicated you were trying to skirt the rules. It wasn’t cycling with the frequency it should have, considering how cold it was outside. Then it stopped cycling all together.

The ‘dog whistle’ started again, too. You changed the way your playing the whistle, but the fact that you’re playing it again says a lot.

Actions speak louder than words

I know you know what I did.

Every thing you do is being noted.

My nerves may be frayed

My frustrations may be through the roof

My mental health may be obliterated

But I will continue to make my voice heard

Even if the frustration keeps building up

Even if you make sure my frustrations levels stay elevated

I am not your pawn

The Nerve…!

My nerves are shot

The last two weeks have been very mentally draining. And it’s not over yet. The next week and a half are going to be no different.

Based on the last few days, there’s a suspicion that the narcissist has been told to knock it off. I don’t think he will.

For someone who loves his power…

For someone who loves his control…

Change isn’t going to happen unless he’s forced out. Even then, he’s not going to hand anything over willingly.

There’s a fight coming. One that’s going to turn out to be harder to fight than expected.

My nerves are frayed.

The mental exhaustion has taken hold.

One breath at a time…

My hope now is that my son and I come out on the other side alive.

The Isolation

One of the hardest parts is the isolation.

I thought it was bad after I had my son. I was wrong.

After you started your campaign, the feeling of isolation started to set in.

It took awhile for me to catch on. The feeling had disappeared after we moved in, but started creeping back in once you started to set your plan in motion

Now, it’s hit full throttle

I’ve told my story. I have some sympathy.

I’ve made it known where things stand as a result of your abuse. People are sympathetic. They’re trying to be understanding. But perceptions are getting in the way. Their perceptions aren’t lining up with my reality. It’s lead to isolation.

It’s gotten hard to explain the effects of your abuse. But you knew that would happen. You made sure of it.

The isolation is one of the hardest aspects of this scenario.

I refuse to submit

You can play your games.

You can keep using your ‘dog whistle’

You can keep employing your flying monkeys

You can keep using your family as pawns in your sick and twisted game

You can keep making the isolation worse

You’ll still be wrong

I See the Ripple Effect

The ripple effect of what you’ve done is immense.

I can see the damage piling up behind me, the debris everywhere, like a tornado that just swept through. Leaving miles and miles of damage in its wake, waiting to be cleaned up and sorted.

It’ll likely take YEARS to recover.

But you don’t care.

The ripple effect. So many lives affected. So much damage done.

But here I am, sitting on the fence. I know very well what needs to be done. I know very well I need out. I know there’s a path to get there. But access to it has been blocked. By you, nonetheless.

Your need for control. For power. To rub it in.

So, for now, I sit tight.

I see the path out, even though I don’t have access to it. You’ve made sure of that.

I see the way out. My nerves may be shot. My exhaustion may be at an all time high (with the expectation that it’ll get worse). My brain may be in a fog.

But here I’ll sit. Slowly plotting my way out. Trying to make my voice heard. Fighting to make sure my child is no longer under your reign. He deserves to have his freedom. The freedom you keep trying to deny both of us.

I know not to reveal any plans. To not say a word. But you’ll still try regardless. You like staying several steps ahead.

I see the ripple effect…

I’m Mad

I’m mad that I’ve been put into this position

I’m mad that I can’t get people to believe me about how bad it is

I’m mad that I can’t get it to stop

I’m mad that my life is being flipped upside down

I’m mad that if feels like I’m going nowhere

I’m mad that my son is being put through this

I’m mad that I have no help

I’m mad that I have no support (that’s what it feels like to me)

I’m mad that my voice got taken away

I’m mad

And I will continue to be mad until a way is found to make it stop

Your Silence is Deafening

All I hear is silence

It’s gotten to the point where it’s all I hear

It permeates through the building as loud as a lion’s roar, even though it doesn’t make a sound

It’s deafening, but so loud that it can’t be ignored

Everyone seems to be doubling down that I’m the problematic one, but you’re silence says otherwise

No matter how loud the silence gets

No matter how long you give your silent treatment

Your silence speaks volumes

Your silence tells a story

Your silence…

…I will be heard

Even if your silence says otherwise

My Voice

I know you’re trying to take my voice.

Every time I speak up, I see you dig in your heels.

Every time I stay silent, I see you dig in your heels.

So far, you’ve been successful.

I have taken my stand. I put in my formal statement and complaint last week. Do I think I’ll be heard? I do not know.

You’re reputation, your ‘image’, has held you in high esteem. I have no idea if it’ll crack. I have no idea if I’ll be believed.

You started a war.

You’re determined for me to lose the war.

You’re determined to keep my voice silent.

Broken.

Unheard.

Buried.