Sometimes I Wonder if I’m Really a Survivor

I have found my voice, but that doesn’t mean it gets heard.

I have learned to put up boundaries, but that doesn’t mean they get respected.

I have convinced myself to operate in his world for my children’s sake, but that doesn’t make it reality.

I have chosen to play nice to protect them, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t use them just to show me he’s still the king.

Days like today, when he’s suffering from not getting his way, all he can do is attack. If I won’t give in willingly, then, goddamnit, he’ll make me give in by force. No matter what, he will have his way. It’s usually over some stupid fucking thing that I would probably give him without blinking if he would just treat the children nicely, or simply ask instead of taking.

I’m probably going to give in anyway to mediate his next rage. To protect our children. I have to choose my battles and this one won’t be worth fighting. I have to put up the boundary and pretend I’m going to enforce it, but, eventually, I’m just going to give in because I don’t have the resources for a war.

Please don’t ask me today why I’m not going to fight this one. Ask him, or someone like him, why my only options are take his abuse lying down or take his abuse standing up.

Fuck him and fuck every control freak out there that has to hurt people. Fuck them all.

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