Dear Konnor- I Hate You.

Notes: All names in my writing have been changed to ensure privacy and safety, including my own. The experiences are real.

Trigger warning: This post shares experiences of emotional, psychological, and financial abuse.

Dear Konnor,

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate the way you have made me doubt myself. I hate that you make me feel like I am going crazy. I hate that you use our son and my past trauma to inflict pain on me all because you are too much of a fucking coward to look at yourself. I hate that you text me when you have Oliver just because you know I won’t ignore my phone. I hate that you threaten to take him from me if I gray rock you too long. I hate that I doubt my own thoughts and choices all of the fucking time. I hate that I am constantly draggin myself out of financial ruin because I paid for every fucking thing for you. I hate that you get time with Andy period. He deserves better than you. I hate that your sister sticks up for you because she sees good inside of you partly because I used to do that too. Is there good inside of you? I hate that it is harder for me to see the good in the world after you. I hate that I don’t trust people anymore. I hate that I have to get help from my parents because I have no money while they should be enjoying retirement. I hate that they worry about me. I hate that I cry so much.

Even though I hate you, I don’t hate that you entered my life because of the amazing boy we have. I’m so unbelievably grateful for him. I am grateful that my family loves me enough to help despite how many times I have fucked up. I am grateful I have a wonderful therapist and support group  who are teaching me how to heal and how to grow…and more importantly how not to become prey to more people like you. I am grateful for my friends who continually read your messages and reassure me that I am not the crazy one and who keep me distracted any time Olive is with you. I am grateful that I get more quality time with my kids because I am not so fuckign worried about you and your moods. I am grateful I am not cleaning and taking care of a grown ass man who can’t take care of himself. I am grateful that I am okay to be alone. I am grateful that my relationship with God and the universe has strengthened. 

May you have the life you deserve,

Marie