Help
TheRetiredBridgeburner, on 14 April 2023 - 06:58 AM, said:
This is a weird mix of MWMG and happy, so bear with me.
My normal Instagram account is private, but I have a second account for a charity challenge I'm doing at the moment for The Trussell Trust. Someone, behind a grey face and meaningless account name, decided to message me on that non-private account with screenshots of my abusive ex's Twitter feed, where some nearly nine years after I left him he (in the past week) is accusing me of being the abusive party, detailing how he was "trapped in the relationship" (he owned both of the places we lived solely, and never let me forget it or missed an opportunity to imply he could throw me out, so that's, um, an interesting take on the actual dynamics of the situation) and "lost his identity and it took him years to get it back" and giving some very twisted examples to paint me as a monster and him as an innocent victim.
I still don't know if I'm completely okay, really. It was a huge shock on a few levels, not least that he's still talking about me nine years later to the point of needing to peddle this narrative, which feels incredibly creepy. I don't talk about him or my experiences at all anymore, except in a circumstance where I'm explaining one of the things that make me very jumpy still. I don't even wish to understand why someone thought it was okay to send that to me, or what their motivation for doing so was. It was also unnerving because there were interactions he described that I recognised and I would never go so far as to say there aren't things I said or did that I'm not ashamed of, or that I would never do or say in normal circumstances. I was often frightened and confused, and occasionally lashed out. I've no wish to excuse the fact I said some very mean things when doing so, but I do think the context of the situation after years of being treated very cruelly and constantly gaslit and lied to is important.
We've also just been getting the house ready to go on the market and have our first viewings of houses we potentially want to buy this weekend. To say Mr Not a Blacksmith and I are running on fumes at this point is an understatement, and so I'm probably a bit shakier than I would usually be as well.
Anyway, the happy bit. For context, oddly it was this ex who introduced me to Star Trek: The Next Generation. I loved it instantly, but it became another thing he could be cruel to me about because I often reacted to the more emotional plot points and characters (I have an abiding love for Deanna Troi, even if she is underserved by the writing, for example - and I always loved the episodes focusing on Data's quest to be more human). So, as much as I loved it, it became another stick to beat me with about being too sensitive and emotional (emotions = weakness was a very clear through line with him). Despite this, it's often been the comfort telly I returned to over the years and it was a feature of the early days after having left, where I watched it again by myself and revelled in all the emotional bits, and it felt like a successful small rebellion.
Spoilered for those who may wish to watch it, but I just watched the penultimate episode of Star Trek: Picard this morning and:
I have just sat and cried like a baby for a good few minutes and it felt like such a catharsis. I don't think I realised how important TNG was to me, and how woven into the fabric of my recovery it truly is until this morning.
Short version: people are sometimes still awful, but TNG is always wonderful.
My normal Instagram account is private, but I have a second account for a charity challenge I'm doing at the moment for The Trussell Trust. Someone, behind a grey face and meaningless account name, decided to message me on that non-private account with screenshots of my abusive ex's Twitter feed, where some nearly nine years after I left him he (in the past week) is accusing me of being the abusive party, detailing how he was "trapped in the relationship" (he owned both of the places we lived solely, and never let me forget it or missed an opportunity to imply he could throw me out, so that's, um, an interesting take on the actual dynamics of the situation) and "lost his identity and it took him years to get it back" and giving some very twisted examples to paint me as a monster and him as an innocent victim.
I still don't know if I'm completely okay, really. It was a huge shock on a few levels, not least that he's still talking about me nine years later to the point of needing to peddle this narrative, which feels incredibly creepy. I don't talk about him or my experiences at all anymore, except in a circumstance where I'm explaining one of the things that make me very jumpy still. I don't even wish to understand why someone thought it was okay to send that to me, or what their motivation for doing so was. It was also unnerving because there were interactions he described that I recognised and I would never go so far as to say there aren't things I said or did that I'm not ashamed of, or that I would never do or say in normal circumstances. I was often frightened and confused, and occasionally lashed out. I've no wish to excuse the fact I said some very mean things when doing so, but I do think the context of the situation after years of being treated very cruelly and constantly gaslit and lied to is important.
We've also just been getting the house ready to go on the market and have our first viewings of houses we potentially want to buy this weekend. To say Mr Not a Blacksmith and I are running on fumes at this point is an understatement, and so I'm probably a bit shakier than I would usually be as well.
Anyway, the happy bit. For context, oddly it was this ex who introduced me to Star Trek: The Next Generation. I loved it instantly, but it became another thing he could be cruel to me about because I often reacted to the more emotional plot points and characters (I have an abiding love for Deanna Troi, even if she is underserved by the writing, for example - and I always loved the episodes focusing on Data's quest to be more human). So, as much as I loved it, it became another stick to beat me with about being too sensitive and emotional (emotions = weakness was a very clear through line with him). Despite this, it's often been the comfort telly I returned to over the years and it was a feature of the early days after having left, where I watched it again by myself and revelled in all the emotional bits, and it felt like a successful small rebellion.
Spoilered for those who may wish to watch it, but I just watched the penultimate episode of Star Trek: Picard this morning and:
Spoiler
I have just sat and cried like a baby for a good few minutes and it felt like such a catharsis. I don't think I realised how important TNG was to me, and how woven into the fabric of my recovery it truly is until this morning.
Short version: people are sometimes still awful, but TNG is always wonderful.
Dollars to doughnuts, the person who sent you the screenshots was your ex.
I am someone who was married to a person who would scream at me almost at the drop of a hat to get out of the house they owned (with her first ex-husband still on the deed and mortgage).
It's abusive and years of couples therapy didn't stop it (just slowed down the speed at which it would get deployed).
My ex wife spent years talking occasionally about the awfulness of her first ex husband. I don't know fully what went on between them, but I listened to her, consoled her, commiserated, and then eventually, just stoically looked at her because the "years later needing some kind of feedback that's not possible to get" dynamic was corrosively toxic and felt like her anger mattered more than any other emotion or human in her life.
Her first ex became an evil caricature that was there for railing against. I will or have become a similar evil caricature to rail against. Hopefully, the next person to become romantically entangled with her fits her needs or avoids becoming the same discarded evil caricature.
The good news is that being an evil caricature doesn't require my active participation. I have diligently shrunk down communication with her to functionally nothing in a slow fade out that includes restrictions in social media to eventual full spectrum blocking in the future (done this way to avoid any sudden conflicts). My actual friends know that I do not want updates or them to take action regarding her beyond "stop inviting her to things".
Even on the off chance the anon isn't your ex, I would still block and never talk to them again.
