Living with bipolar disorder. Working through trauma. This is my story.
In previous relationships, that was exactly what I was taught. I wasn't good enough. I had to earn respect. I had to perform to be loved. I had to make the other person happy through what I could do for them. Otherwise, I was worthless and unworthy.
I have let fear take control of me. At one point I thought I was fearless, but somehow, I let it creep and settle in and make itself at home within me. I’m hoping—no, I know—as I continue healing, I will become fearless once again.
Perry screamed taking a step towards me. A list of profanities came out of his mouth, as he threw an ashtray across the room. Suddenly, my brother busted through the front door.
I’m not perfect... And while all of the things I have been through may have affected my emotional and mental health, they don’t excuse the bad behavior or the pain I also inflicted on others. Those are things I am still dealing with...
As I pulled onto the road and out of the neighborhood, I began sobbing. I felt guilty for leaving and relieved that I got out. I mourned the death of my marriage and rejoiced it was over.
Suddenly, it hit me. Ten years had passed since my first marriage ended, and I had somehow married the same man... How did this happen? How did I end up right where I began?
He didn't just physically assault me; that happened sporadically. Every day he demolished my spirit, controlled my mind, dug a grave for my self-esteem, and buried me with his words. I became a prisoner to be ruled, an unworthy subject that was handpicked by the king himself, who allowed me to be a part of his kingdom.
Amanda Jewel Warren 