…And The Morning After That First Assault

Wednesday, November 2nd, 2016

Picking up from yesterday –

In the morning, almost everything he said made me angry (critiquing my apartment again, even critiquing whether I got him vitamins out of the “better” bottle… Literally acts as simple as giving him some of my vitamins are judged… You can’t be good enough.).

(The bottles had different characters on them because apparently I’m a child still sometimes in (hopefully) fun ways ;), etc.).

When he mentioned he wanted to do New York stuff together, a bolt of anxiousness struck through my body. I thought, “Oh god no. I don’t want any New York memories associated with you!” (I probably should’ve taken that as a sign… Also, big fat lot of good that did me, as I still have a hard time dissociating him with New York *rolls eyes at self*… Anyway…)

After that day, I continued to hang out with him (even if I did try to avoid “New York” things as best I could).

And there’s lot of cognitive dissonance there, I know – being furious and violated, yet still doing things one-on-one with him… I didn’t trust him totally anymore. (Of course, how could I?) But I had really trusted him up until that night – a lot…a lot. And so I thought maybe the night was a misunderstanding. [Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.]

But at the time, I thought it could be… After all, when things were great, they were great. But when things were bad, they were devastating…

But this was the very beginning of the bad stuff! So, even though this was a huge deal, I tried to minimize it as much as I could…

And since this was just the beginning of the bad, maybe, just maybe, I could look to his body of work (the times we’d hung out before that happened) to “know” that he really might be a “good guy” who somehow just wildly, wildly misread signals and misinterpreted words and misunderstood.

I just couldn’t 100% get a handle on what in the world was going on – if I was overreacting etc., or if the situation was unsafe, etc… It was weirdly surreal.

And the way he was acting after the assault – getting upset if I was edgy, and such -made me almost feel like it was unfair or unreasonable for me to be mad (because he made it seem like it was)…

And so I reeeeally started questioning all my angry and retreating feelings – even genuinely wondering why I was feeling them…

I know I’ve kind of tread this ground a little before… But it really was so confusing at the time (and even now sometimes). The night had components of a night that would’ve conceivably been normal in many circumstances (having sex with a person you’re becoming involved with, them spending the night). But the details made it not normal at all.

And I legitimately wondered in my head, “Well, if he’s being so ‘wonderful,’ and my boundaries are so ‘ridiculous’ (things you’d be led to believe by him at that time), then why am I so freaking furious right now?”

“…Why am I so furious, if I’m not ‘allowed’ to be furious over this?”

And that’s partially why I’m talking about this, because I don’t think I can be the only woman who feels that way – who has incredibly inappropriate behavior done – and voices many times that it’s not okay – and then is still made to feel crazy…

I want us to stop feeling crazy. As I said before (sorry to be a bit of a broken record here), it’s not a man’s job to fix us, and we don’t have to accept being fixed (or steamrolled, or whatever you want to say) as being romantic. (And I know that plenty of men are not like that. So, I’m not trying to paint nuance with a roller brush here (as best I can), but eep, I’m not sure that I’m doing it well….)

Gah!

And we’ll pick up here tomorrow.

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