Trigger warning: PTSD from Domestic Abuse still haunts me

WTFIP

Okay so…

Speaking my truth in minecraft on accidentally opening myself up to longstanding domestic abuse in minecraft that almost fucking killed me in fucking minecraft.

This part is about how it became so intensely bad.

We went from romantic existence to unhealthy at a stupid quick pace.

I kept asking him to move out. Opening up the door for him to leave but he had a reason to stay that was his and his alone.

We would be sleeping together and some time in the morning hours, with his morning wood he would grab me and violently thrust. Like really fucking hard to the point it was painful aside from just uncomfortable and distressing. I communicated this was not okay or appropriate as it happened. He continued to do it every morning so I started wanting to sleep in the other bedroom.

Even getting into bed triggered anxiety at this point and I wasn’t able to fall asleep.

However… When I would go to retire for some sleep in the other room, he’d come find me and start a fight. I wouldnt be allowed to “sleep” until I was back in his bed. He’d yell, insult me, rip my blankets off repeatedly.

I worked from home and my sleep schedule and focus time became a nightmare and I was completely burned out.

We had to go to sleep together in his mind. He didnt want me getting up without him. The controlling behaviour included arguments, threats, guilt trips, intense DARVO where I was treated like absolute garbage deserving of the worst kinds of verbal and mental abuse. Waking up before him wasnt okay either. Working while he was around wasn’t okay and would lead to hours of “do you love me… show me…” and my protests to this behaviour and context would spur him into battles of insulting every and any facet of my being. More meetings got missed until I had to put my work down altogether for the time being.

Other times he’d completely lose grips with reality, blaming me for things I didn’t do— i can only imagine to try and justify his behaviour.

He threatened to put things in my drink and food, or in my toiletries.

All the while I was losing it. I knew I couldnt trust him and he took offense to me not wanting to collaborate with him or share my work, social calendar and other plans with him. Why, so he could sabotage them too? It was too much for me.

I was so burnt out, experiencing brain fog and couldnt catch any good sleep. I protected him for so long, feeling for him as a person in need of healing. However, I was in danger and it was only progressing further and further.

Before shows, he’d completely degrade me, scream in my ear and let me know how worthless I was at music. The very thing he used to go slack-jawed over, head over heels in love with me about. It went from being “you’re the only one who can even content with me, even your early works sound like something I would produce…” to him screaming at me before and during sets. Or texting people he knew were in the crowd. All the while he refused the idea that he should leave me alone romantically or otherwise. Why did he want this?

When I couldnt muster a genuinely happy emotion, he’d pull up a nice photo of me and demand she return. “Where the hell is THIS girl, huh???” I fucking wonder dude…

The fact of the matter is, he didnt want redirection, or love. He wanted a subject to control and project his darkness and pain onto. He went out of his way for almost a year to gain my trust and get to know me… to the point I opened up to him, only for him to take all of his study materials of my parts to turn me into a fucking janky frankenstein of myself in his own eyes, to spread to others and try to adjust my own self concept to see. And he fucking liked it. He would share it with our community. More and more I felt like an alien freak, tired and fogged out. And he would push my buttons until I broke, as if to say “AHA! There you are!!!” so the patience and discipline I exercised to not react would be arsenic in my own veins or the drain of my lifeforce and the instrument to receiving maximum harm and punishment. Patience is not a virtue with truly harmful people. Not all people are like this, i repeat to myself, so i don’t lose my patience for myself and others in general…

He’d grind me to the bone for hours and days to get that reaction, and then smile and delight in it. Then he could start slinging next level insults directly into my raw nerves under the guise of really deserving it. That isn’t… something he deserves sympathy for. This torture just wouldnt let up. I didn’t have enough proper support in my corner to get through this faster or effectively. I would have preferred waterboarding personally. No one wants to believe someone can be so twisted or acknowledge the impacts this has.. because just like me they liked and accepted him at some point too. My own and my community’s clinging to his good natured side alienated me— the suspended belief of my situation. There is no perfect victim but a dead one… alas I was unacceptable and alive.

By the time the physical dramatics (violence) progressed to include more new flavours, I knew the talks and the trying to give him leeway for his own exit plan were dead options. One moment he’d be laughing and declaring I’m not getting out of this until he’s good and ready and the next, after I’d spend time elsewhere, I’d come home to him attempting an apology in shambles not knowing what’s wrong with him. Then, in a more tender moment, i might not accept a physical advance which means I’d get screamed at and upon returning after a flee, I’d find a broken door.

Shout out to the things I lost along the way….

My degree education

Enjoying my mothers first homecoming to Canada in 17 years

My partnership position as co founder and author of an environmental finance publication

The dance music events I was taking part in and hosting

My production laptop that randomly died - I dont blame him for this but it added insult to injury at a time i was growing creatively and professionally, turning into what it became

The new branch of business I was piloting off the ground in the dance music community

My sense of belonging in said community

The state of many many friendships & professional relationships

My financial wellbeing

My health

My mental space as a high-cognition neurodivergent person

Recovery from developmental & subsequent dysfunctional trauma

My interests and passions

Quality of friendships

Almost became homeless

My entire existence and trajectory came to a hault.

At that moment it felt like I was dying and I’d never recover.

I spent weeks just sleeping. Anything else was too much. Anything else would become a setback so heavy I’d end up in worse shape than before.

The first time I went to to try and celebrate a friends birthday, I had a fucking panic attack in the middle of a crowded room. Thankfully nobody noticed or gave a fuck except for the group I was with.

I already had ctpsd and this made it compoundedly worse. The chronic stress gave me symptoms of ME/CFS (i cant post links but its brain inflammation from chronic traumatic stress) that i've been managing the last 18 months without much medical help due to barriers of entry. I'm taking care of myself the best that I can and going to therapy once a week. The last year I've slowly started being able to exert myself again, exercise and take on situations and work that are cognitively consuming but I still feel gimped from where I was at before.

I still feel buried by this experience when I have quiet moments even though i’ve come a long way and experienced a ton of recovery and joy since these days.

I mostly keep this to myself but I've been dying to somehow find what the hell is going to crack me open to feeling consistently hopeful and on the right track again. Everything comes and goes and I feel unstable.