That little voice

Ignore that, and you’ll pay the price in full.

16 March, 2017

Blood, blood, and more blood.

“He hit me and it felt like a kiss.”

No, that’s not it at all. Lana glorifies violence as an outsider. If she had known violence more intimately, it would be more like, “He hit me and I feared for my life.”

Yet, apart from this disconcerting detail, the fictional narrative of Ultraviolence played out pretty much like it would in reality. He hit me and I still stayed by his side. He pummelled my face bloody and I still let him into my house next day. He tore my pants trying to penetrate me, and I still let him touch me now.

It might seem that I have little self respect to allow him to remain in my life after taking this senseless beating. And perhaps that’s true. Somehow, his redeeming qualities have wormed their way right into the abyss of my heart. I could have walked away, but could I really?

He sees the pain of others, but he’s too desensitised. Furthermore, he’s caught up in the whirlwind of this own emotions and trauma. His current anger, his past distress, regrets, and bitterness has made him numb to the feelings of others. Don’t mistake this as an inability to comprehend emotions — He knows perfectly well. Too well, maybe. He reads people well enough to understand their weakness easily, and he goes right for it. He has lost that component of empathy. Not all empathy, just the ability to place himself in the shoes of others and truly feel. In moments of rage, he wrenches my fragile sense of self with all his might. He squeezes me till I am on the verge of death. The stronger I resist, the harder he hurts me. He doesn’t stop till he sees that almost all sign of life is gone. Then he’ll relax a little, only to wreck and destroy again after I’ve let my guard down. Satisfaction in cruelty. Perhaps because he’s wrought with pain himself. Still, I can never trust this man.

I don’t think he is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, yet I find myself unable to leave him. Partly due to fear of the unknown, and partly due to the fear of him. He bashes me with insults each time I “threaten to leave”, but he does not realise that these are not empty threats. I can’t foresee a happy and healthy relationship with him in the long run, given current habits. He is unable to give me the support that I need. What then, is the point of such a relationship? The joy I have experienced with him is intense during peaceful moments, but a relationship cannot function without trust and safety.

My psychologist has pointed out repeatedly that it is dangerous for me to be with him. Do I not know this already? I am now clinging to the hope that therapy can help us both.

11 July, 2017

Once again, he holds me hostage emotionally, lamenting and lambasting me as selfish. He does not see that I have the liberty to choose; I have every right to leave a relationship in which I feel absolutely unsafe in. I am not his wife. We are not in a legally binding contract. Why should I be made to feel like an irresponsible person simply for wanting to put an end to this longstanding misery?

I really was fine before him. And I had tried to be happy with him. But I can no longer pretend. I know he is someone I can never be happy with. He sees this as a hallmark of my mental condition, but it is not. I genuinely feel unsafe with him. Not just physically. He torments and taunts me with spite. These are things that cannot be unseen, unheard. He might as well have cheated on me. And he thinks I do not have the strength to crawl out of this relationship. He’s partly right. I’m vulnerable, weak. I can’t stand firm when he reels me in because I am soft and hopeful at times.

12 July, 2017

He says he loves me, as if saying it makes it true; as if verbalising I, Love, You, allows him to believe its inherent meaning, that he, truly loves me. As with empty promises, first broken then justified, these words also validates whatever cruel words and actions he throws my way. He hits me, because at the core of it, he’s angry that I had subjected myself to the life I once led. Read: He hits me because he loves me. He screams at me even when I make an effort to speak to him nicely, because he cares. Read: He raises his voice and hurls vulgarities and demeaning labels at me, only because I mean too much to him.

Ignore that little voice in your head, and you’ll pay the price in full.