Fattybefit

I thought you respected me but it soon became clear you never did.

I question if you ever really loved me because

You don't put down someone you love every day

You don't tell them their feelings are annoying

You don't force toxic positivity down their throats and not even do as you preach

You don't make them turn their no into a yes

You don't make them question their bodies because you're too lazy and selfish to give the same attention

You don't expect them to pay all the bills and buy you things but then turn around accuse your partner of being materialistic because she wanted a gift

You don't threaten your partner to make them cosign your car lease. Twice.

You don't let your mother get in your partner's face and shout, nor let her insult your partner with your partner standing right there

You don't violate your partner's privacy by stealing their phone to read the dorky little roleplay your partner and one of her best friends have done since they were 12

And you don't belittle your partner for that

You don't make fun of your partner's fear or insecurities to your friends

You don't cancel plans on your partner for last minute plans with your friends

You don't insult your partner's family to your partner

You don't tell your partner her job is to clean after you and your mother

You don't make cruel comments about your partner's weight and try to cover it up

You don't purposely kill your partner's plant because you dont like plants

You don't remove the wand for the blinds to keep your partner from opening them

Then when you decide to admit to your partner that you were using them, you don't backpedal and gaslight. You don't ruin their belongings and try to make it to where they cannot go home. You don't put them down in front of your friends.

If you ever read this, you were horrifically abusive. Three professionals, and countless not, agree. Just because you never struck me does not mean my abuse is not valid. And when you wouldn't let me say no, well, that was sexual assault .

So, in conclusion, I have been traumatized but not beaten. Even if all I can take back is my cats, I will still be the winner because I am out and safe and far away from you. And I will heal, and be stronger than anything you ever hope to become.

Forgiveness is something that I should strive for, I know. But in the words of Kesha, "Only some things God can forgive."

So, instead,

Go fuck yourself.

Almost three years we made it.

But we grew apart, grew into different people. And we were both scared of admitting that and what moving on meant.

We grew toxic towards the end. You withdrew and tried to avoid me while still permeating my space. I grew increasingly desperate and anxious, constantly putting you before me and resenting you for not doing the same.

This past month had been hard on me. I have a new stomach ulcer. I cried often. I thought dark thoughts. My coworkers were worried I was going to kill myself.

But I resisted the urge to cut.

And I finally confronted you for real this time. No bullshit. No avoiding it.

We knew exactly what we both wanted. And I was surprised I wanted it too. To be free. I cried. You never cried but that wasn't typical of you anyways. But for the first time in a long time I felt like you respected me.

And we decided to stay friends since we were stuck in this lease for a year. And because we would be splitting up out three pets- you will have our dog and I will have our cats.

Before I left to be with my family to lick my wounds, we laughed together.

When I got home we laughed together.

But I know I am not in love with you anymore. And that's okay.

I will still cry from time to time.

And I will always love you.

But I will get through this and be stronger than you could ever dream to be.

I'm glad I did. Muscle imbalances are back but it still felt nice to shamble along (lol). I did 1/8th at a time and only ran about 1/2 a mile, but I was pleasantly surprised to see my aerobic fitness wasn't as trash as I thought it would be.

So, I've been having a hard week (lots of crying, PMS induced mood swings, real bad negative self talk) and I got to talking with a friend earlier today about my family.

I was looking for a pic of my dad when I stumbled across the screenshot pic (which is that way because I'm too lazy to download it off my google pics). I was 18. Now the other pic is me today at 24. I was freaking out over how much older I look, but my friend pointed out something besides the fact my makeup was less than pristine and it is a different style: it has been six years since then. As I bemoan my wrinkles, I should remember that I earned everyone of them. And I should be proud of that. That's six years that I fought hard to be on this Earth and become a better person. So next time I'm down in the dumps (and having idealations because I have somehow managed to convince myself that no one loves me which isn't true) I should remember how far I've come in six years.

So, I wanted to start back on exercising this month. And I have failed. Why? Because I let myself and gave myself excuses. Honestly, it is to the point where I need to just bite the bullet. There’s no use on rushing home immediately if all I am is upset and cranky. Besides, I feel like it would be more therapeutic of me if I just ran or lifted or whatever.

I will say since I started trying to budget harder and got on a healthier meal plan kick, it seems to help him out as well. He managed to say no to oreos (but still got a gallon of ice cream for *checks notes* smoothies. Um.... yeah). I have been eating a lot more veggies as a result because they’re cheap (financially and caloric wise lol) and I would like to think my skin looks a bit clearer minus this weird facial issue I have going on prior to the broccoli.