Thank you all for your thoughtful comments on my last post – you confirmed what I already knew and my decision has been made. But first, let me describe to you my Wednesday.
I got up, walked the dog and went to work. I was invited to join The Guys for lunch today – a “time to talk outside the office,” I was told. I accepted without a thought because my lunch time is my own and I won’t have to explain to anyone where/why/what was said. There is no Narc to report back to. I will not be grilled about it for hours later tonight and I can say whatever I want without first running it through the Narc Filter for approval.
After work I went over to a friend’s house where I shared a meal with her, her husband, three kids and one of their friends who was spending the night. We talked, we laughed, we played fiddles! At no time did I feel the need to censor myself (no cuss words while the kids were at table, but that goes without saying, right?) or embarrass myself backpedaling because the Narc would hear about something I said and chastise me later. I did not worry about the time or what I would have to do to “make it up to” the Narc when I got home. I felt at home and at ease. These people are easy to like, very casual and their home is open to everyone who stops by. I felt truly blessed to be a part of so simple a thing as an evening meal and some (not at all good) music. She’s learning the fiddle, I haven’t practiced in weeks, we don’t know any of the same songs, but we had fun and stopped before her husband’s ears started to bleed 🙂
Sabu and I headed back to Towanda where I returned a missed call to Awana. We talked and laughed for over an hour and it was wonderful! I didn’t have to lower my voice for fear the Narc was listening and would question me later. I did not censor myself in any way and it felt like a subversive act.
For those of you who have never been in an abusive relationship, this sounds crazy, right? I mean, I’m 44 years old and I can’t have dinner with friends? Can’t have a phone conversation without thinking about every word? Come on! This is 2013, not 1513, right?
Last year about this time I wrote a post about gifts and their consequences. I am very happy to say that only a year later my life is so much better. I’m having trouble believing it’s real.
Today I blocked the Narc from my e-mail account. I can’t block his calls to my cell phone because my carrier (StraightTalk) does not offer that service, so I set “his” ringtone to “none.” He is blocked from my FB account. I took him off the live feed of my other blogs (he was only on there because he insisted he had be) and will block his IP address ASAP. He does not know about this blog, nor do any people that we both know.
It means leaving the rabbits behind, and I truly regret that, but in the end it’s them or me. He will give them away (if he hasn’t already) or take care of them (he’s perfectly capable and it would give him something to bitch to other people about) and they will live out their lives just fine. I will not be paying his cell phone bill on Sunday – he can figure out that he’s out of time, or not, for himself. I already told him months ago that he is welcome to use, sell or give away any of the things I left behind. There are a few things I would have liked to save, but I’m over it now.
I am done. Really. Finally. I don’t owe him any explanations or discussion. I owe him nothing. He showed me just how evil a person can be and that’s a hard lesson I did not learn quickly. He gave me the impetus to start a journey of self discovery that I am truly relishing. His abuse got me off my ass and moving forward. Because he abused me in so many ways, my natural empathy has been re-awakened and I hope to be able to do some good in this world for those who suffer as I suffered. He taught me that every kind thing I did for him would be turned against me. He showed me how a person can lie and lie and lie and not feel a thing.
I have officially gone No Contact.
So, that’s that. I don’t know how much more I’ll write about him and our relationship here. When does it become “beating a dead horse?”