Guest Post: Still In Shock

A few days ago I received a request to host a guest writer.  As a relatively new blogger, I was thrilled to know that someone who had read my blog wanted to take part in it.  I welcome guests.  What stood out most was that she was so very sincere.

She told of her story in a brief paragraph with this. “Until he broke my rib and offered no apology, no remorse, nothing. That hurts more than the injury.”  I knew then and there that I needed to read her story.  I also knew without ever reading a word, that any readers I’ve acquired should also read her story.

We are survivors, we’ve had horrible experiences and persevered, and we deserve to have a forum to vent those stories.  I hope that this blog can become that.

Please welcome Carole Blair to Kiss A Lot Of Frogs, this is her story.

Still in Shock

I believe that every single event in life happens as an opportunity to choose love over fear. — Oprah Winfrey

He motioned me to turn onto my stomach, and I did. No words. His mostly motioned during those times except to give me directions or contradict me when I said, “I need . . .”

“No, you don’t,” he quipped.

I shrank inside.

Beware of anyone who silences/ignores your needs.

I met him at work and was immediately intrigued. Charming and cute in an unassuming way, his voice was as intoxicating as his cologne. He’d call and leave messages about work that ended with what he really wanted to say. “Happy Valentine’s Day!” was at the end of one voice mail. “Happy Birthday,” came at the end of another message.

He flirted. I flirted back. We did the dance for months. One night as we were talking, drinking, and getting silly, he looked at me, eyes glazed. “When was the last time you had sex?” It had been some time. “A while ago,” I whispered. He moved closer, and I put my head on his shoulder. Less than 10 minutes later he stood up, reached for my hand, and said, “Let’s go play.”

Trust yourself. Don’t trust others blindly.

A friends-with-benefits arrangement was a bad idea for me. Add colleague to the mix, and it became worse. With someone I have feelings for, it was a terrible idea. One high school friend had that arrangement with a classmate who lived across the street. She married him years later, and today they’re grandparents.

That was my only reference. I wanted to be close to him. Having a person’s body is not the same as having that person’s heart. He treated me nicely except when he didn’t. The snide remarks began about a year after I met him. I ignored red flags about his behavior when he was hurtful and critical.

Listen to a “this doesn’t feel good” knot in your stomach.

I read about abuse, that it begins slowly, how the person twists situations to his or her benefit. I was experiencing it firsthand, and was most likely in denial.  A childhood friend endured it until she succumbed four years ago. When her husband keeled over months later while having dinner at a restaurant with his new girlfriend, a mutual friend remarked that she had reached out and grabbed her abusive husband.

What happened, I didn’t see coming.

He was angry the day before it happened and ignored two emails I sent him that week, choosing only to reply to emails about work. He avoided talking about something that was important to me.

Watch out for someone who ignores/negates your feelings.

He called four days later. I told him I needed to talk in person. He insisted I tell him on the phone. He got angry that I kept calling. No one made him answer his phone. Ten minutes later, he apologized and said he wasn’t feeling well.

The next day I saw him for a few hours at work. He was polite in front of other people. He called later and didn’t leave a message. I called him back. His fury unleashed at me. Cursing, yelling at me, and mocking me for wanting his time. “If you wanted to talk to me, you’d get into your f-ing car and come over.”

I did. I went to calm him down, knowing something other than me was bothering him. He kept yelling, and then we talked for a while. I got up to leave. We hugged, and I walked to the door. Then he asked me something. I turned around and went inside.

Don’t let anyone play on your sympathy.

So when he motioned for me to turn over, I did. If he asked me to jump, I have asked him how high. Did I need his attention and approval so badly?

I heard a crunch and thought nothing of it until that night. Searing pain in my left side that said something is wrong. Too tired to drive, I went to the ER the next day. The doctor said I had a hairline fracture in one rib, and showed me the film.

No apology, no remorse, nothing. That hurts more than the injury.

I trusted him. I trusted myself with him. Sometimes I get lonely, and that overrides good sense. As Madison wrote, I made good and bad choices in people. I have longtime friends who love me, warts and all, and I keep thinking about them, about the positives in my life. I will make good choices again and will be more careful next time, remembering that the choices I make are based on the information shown to me at the time.

It’s up to me to interpret what I see and hear.

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