i hate him.
sometimes i really, really hate him.
i hate him for ruining me.
for damaging me.
for breaking my soul into pieces....like a splintered mirror.
for making my life a living hell.
i hate him for making me hate myself.
i hate him for making my marriage difficult. being married is already hard enough.
i hate him for making being a mother that much harder.
i hate him because i know i am a worse mother because of him and what he has done to me.
sometimes i wish i could tell him how i really feel. sometimes i wish i could throw something at his head. sometimes i wish i could ruin his life the way he has mine. sometimes i wish i could put all of my anger, hurt, tears, depression, hopelessness, fear, and anxiety right back on him.
i hate his face. i hate his voice. i hate his touch. i hate his smell. i hate how i am reminded of him constantly. i hate that i have to separate reality from the hell that he has put inside my head. i hate that those around me suffer, the ones i love most, because of the suffering he has inflicted on me. i hate that i have to relive what he has done to me, over and over again, turning me from an adult back into a little girl.
i hate what he has done to my family.
i hate that i am triggered by stupid things.
but most of all....i hate feeling this way.
i hate you. i hate you. i hate you.
i just needed to get that out.