The Most Intense Guest Post I Have Ever Written

Now that I am in the process of moving forward in life, since I have bought my own house (closing was this past Thursday, June 20th, I now legally own it), I have realized that I still have a lot of work to do, not only on the house, but there's a lot of work to do emotionally as well. I've realized that if I am really going to move on in life, I have to confront my past, and start building networks of new people in my life.

Well, in the spirit of confronting my past, I recently wrote a guest post for the blog Confessions of a Heretic Husband (I really love the tagline under the blog's name "Everyone's a heretic to someone"). It's a guest post that was harder for me to write than anything I have ever written before, it's still hard for me to read. On this blog, I have generally been very open about my life, but there are some details of my life, especially from the last 5 years of my life, after that infamous nervous breakdown, that I haven't told anyone, either on this blog or in person. All of that changes today with this guest post.

It's not an exaggeration in the least to say that I have been held hostage for the last 5 years, it's hard to say, and humiliating as well. 

There was a time, about 3 years ago, that I attempted to leave my mom and dad's home, and my mom in response literally barricaded the door to keep me from leaving, knowing that if I tried to push past her, she would either become violent, or play the victim, and claim that I physically harmed her. Some abusers are really good at playing manipulative games like that, playing the victim to gain sympathy when they are the ones carrying out the abuse. 

Here are some excerpts from the post:

“Where are you going?” she kept asking over and over again, with defiance and a hint of amused contempt as she stood in the middle of the only doorway out of the room. 

I had told her just minutes before that I was leaving, and she immediately blocked the door. I had some of my stuff packed, and I was desperate to leave her home for good, but she just stood there and said I had “no right” to leave.  

Was I some pouting 12 year old kid at the time? No, I was 21 years old. I was desperate enough that I was willing to leave the home of my Mom and Dad with just a few hundred dollars to my name and an old van.   

More from the post:

She tried to make me feel without hope, that I would never leave, and that I couldn’t make it without her. I knew that was a lie, and meant to keep me defeated and powerless. I knew I wasn’t getting anywhere while trying to reason with her. I knew that if I stayed, it would be many more years suffering under her rule, and it might just lead me to finally end my life.  

Once you read the post, you will begin to realize why buying this house means so much to me, it took so much just to finally be able to get this house, so many hours of work, earning the money, despite the pain and muscle stiffness I had (and still deal with).

It took years of pushing back against her verbal abuse, and showing her that though she could force me to live in her home (it's amazing how much emotional power someone can have over you when they have abused you since childhood, and I didn't have any other options financially), she couldn't force me to cooperate with her plans, and give up all hope of ever having my own life. I only won this fight by wearing her down, and forcing her to concede defeat.

It's astonishing how now she is trying to portray the whole situation as though it was her idea all this time for me to move out, and get my own home. She is trying to save face, by not admitting defeat. I don't know who she is trying to fool with that act, certainly I'm not falling for it, I will never forget that day that she barricaded the door. I guess fundamentalists do live in their own reality.

Click here to read the rest of the post at Confessions of a Heretic Husband