Do you know the feeling of goosebumps on your arm the moment a loving memory comes to mind or an old favorite song plays on the radio? The body knows. The feelings are not just emotional. They are manifested physically as well.
Now. Have you felt suddenly nauseous? Your head spinning. A sudden migraine? A sudden feeling of Fight or Flight? But why? nah…. i must have it wrong?? After all i feel these emotions when my boyfriend calls, texts or meets me. This must be the rush that all poets write of and the singers sing about… Maybe my head is not spinning but I’m giddy with happiness… i don’t know any better after all I’m only 18. And he is the first boy i kissed and the first man who made love to me.
My best friend was the one who pointed out the obvious. You are scared of him. Scared? Me? Why would i? Sure i don’t tell him i smoke- he would not like it; I don’t talk to any boy- my boyfriend gets mad…and then he screams at me; i don’t go out with my set of friends, only him- or else would get mad…
This was a cycle. A pattern far too well known to me now. But in my teens all this felt like love, as concern. After all wasn’t a jealousy a sign of love? We would fight and i would cry. Begging him to forgive me. Sometime i did not know for what… sometimes because i pissed him off so much that he yelled the choicest of obscenities at me. It was after my begging and groveling at his feet to not leave me would he reward me with a present.
Soon enough in a matter of years i was a bundle of nerves. I would have migraines that would last a week. I could no longer digest food. I would throw up every time i ate. I would cry unconsolably at the slightest of an argument. I no longer wanted to hear what my family and friends would say. You see my family did not even know… at that time and in a patriarchal system, a boyfriend was a taboo. I could not talk to my family, i did not agree to what my best friends said. This man had looked my in my eyes, held my hand to his heart and swore that he loved me.
And then one winters day he told me he got married.
LOVE BOMBING- WHEN THE NARCISSIST/ ABUSER WOES A POTENTIAL VICTIM. THE HONEYMOON PERIOD. THE FALLING IN HEAD OVER HEELS PERIOD.
I was fifteen years old. Was about to turn 16 in a matter few months. I met him at a family friends house. He was nine years older to me. This was 16 years ago.
It started off as a typical Mills & Boons Story. Whirlwind romance, promises of forever, sneaking out to meet each other and what not. Only that he married a girl a few years later who he said was an ex of his and that he was being pressured to get married to. Five years later he divorces his then wife because he claims to be in love with me and cannot fathom to live without me. And soon after he divorces his then wife, we elope. Well get married by law without telling anyone. By this time i was 23 yrs old. a week into the marriage he whacked me. he slapped me hard across my face that my jaw hurt. i literally saw stars. just like he had promised to show me…only i thought he was being poetic. A year from that we officially in the eyes of public get married.
Now this wasn’t the only red flag. The flags were up to be seen a few months into the dating period. They were many and they were in plain sight. But i was too in ‘love’. My friends saw, my sister did too… they tried to save me… but you see the game the Narc has mastered is the role of the broken bad boy that needs fixing and that you are the only one that can save him. At 16, this was right out of a novel id love to read, a high school romance. Only it never did end like those stories did. Neither did he ever wanted to be saved.
After many years of suffering abuse. I said enough. This poem made me believe i could.
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeoning of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.