Financial Abuse - Tumblr Posts
Ghosts
Driving in our his neighbourhood this evening. That tightness in my chest returned. I held my breath when I drove past our his road.
The neighbourhood is haunted. Cursed.
Me, in November: What do you want for xmas this year?
Him: You don't make enough money to get me anything I'd want this year. Don't get me anything, seriously. Just do me a favour and save money.
Him, on December 24th: ... I don't see any presents with my name on them... Typical.
Me: ... But you said...
Him: You're so selfish. I really can't believe you. You don't deserve any of the things I got you. You're literally the worst.
I try to explain this to people. They say they understand, but they don't really get it.
My parents are spending their Friday night going through old unlabelled spices and dried herbs in their cupboards and trying to guess what they are based on the smell. They're so pumped when they're certain they've identified one; they may just be having the time of their lives.
This is clearly #relationshipgoals. So I wonder how I grew up seeing my folks who genuinely love and like one another and still ended up in a relationship that nearly killed me.
What went wrong in this brain of mine?
My first post exactly one year and a week ago. So many things have changed from this time. But some things remain constant:
I survived. I’m surviving.
Prologue
I survived you.
Hats
Throughout the healing process it hasn’t been the assaults, sexual coercion, and the emotional torture that has been difficult to understand.
No, no. It’s been resolving that reality to the person who was, on rare occasions, undeniably kind to me and charming to others. The one who was loved by the family dog. The one who helped out his grandma and had a really sweet relationship with her.
It’s so much easier to think of them as monsters, and I’d argue that it is probably a necessity in the early stages of the recovery process.
But they're human. And somehow that’s a difficult pill to swallow.
It's done.
Now to deal with the guilt of leaving my staff and possibly of having to bum gas money off my wonderfully supportive and uplifting woman.
He would tell me I'm trash. And no matter how many times she reassures me of the opposite, it's his words that seem to stick.
I'm resigning from my job tomorrow. As of right now i will be without work at the end of the month ( if he doesn't fire me first).
I paid off the remainder of my debt with my savings today.
My original plan was to be debt free entering 2019. That didn't work out and I've been treading water until now.
I feel bad that I haven't stayed on track. I'm also sad that it's like everything I've been working for for years is up in smoke. I guess it isn't really, but it's definitely a set back.
I'm making sure I'm not a burden when i leave my job. And I remind myself when I'm getting really self loathy about it that he dug this hole this deep to make it difficult for me to pull myself out of. At best he did so negligently, at worst he did so knowingly and purposefully.
But the ugliness he created is gone now. My hard work did pull me out, albeit not the most graceful and ideal ways.
Now it's just a manageable bit off the credit card and I'll be officially debt free.
A Moment.
I will take this time to celebrate a big thing: I am officially out of debt.
It took a little longer than I had anticipated (15 months longer) and a lot longer than I would have liked. But I pulled myself out of the hole he tried to bury me in.
He left me with so many injuries, but come hell or high water, they will all be healed.
He will admit to some moments of physical abuse but narrow it down to one or a small handul of times where I made him so angry that he lost his temper.
He will justify what he did with a 'but'.
He will deny the severity.
He will deny the frequency.
He will deny all the emotional, psychological, financial and sexual aspects.
He believes that I got what I deserved.
He believes that he tried his best.
He believes that he tried to help me but I was too fucked up to save.
He would tell you that I was abusive and hurt his pride.
He will say I ruined his life.
Does the person who abuses you know they are abusive?
Reblogging this will work. Liking this will work. Messaging me will not work. Email me at chronic.survivors@gmail.com
Silly things I was not allowed to keep on my person ( off the top of my head):
A hair elastic on my wrist.
A purse (but he'd be so angry if I wasn't wearing one and he needed me to hold his stuff.)
A jacket when he thought it was too warm.
A sweater when I said he kept the ac too high in the summer.
Sandals.
Things he required me to have:
Tame, managed hair in all potential scenarios.
A purse, but only when he needed me to hold something and I needed to anticipate that before we left. Somehow.
A jacket in case it got cool. He didn't want to have to hear me complain.
Money for the extra hydro bill in the summer when i made him turn the ac so low.
High heel sandals.
Edit: Apparently I’ve already reblogged this. I suppose that speaks to how bang on it is.
How It Feels
Part II: Emotionally Abusive Relationships
Picture the shittiest customer service job you’ve ever had. Customers are constant and you’re so overwhelmed you can’t think about yourself at all. Your personal life, your bodily needs (you don’t even get a lunch break; when was the last time you had water?) or your emotions.
You’re expected to perform perfectly and to always keep a smile on your face, no matter what. You need to be polite and accommodating even if people are screaming at you, and even if people threaten you for no reason.
Your boss thinks you’re an idiot and is constantly condescending and patronizing. He explains your own job to you and implies you’re incompetent, but to avoid offending him, you can’t defend yourself, you can only thank him for his ‘advice.’ He can snap at any minute and fire you, and you need the job desperately, because he has all kinds of contacts and influences in the community and will make sure no one ever hires you again. He makes it very clear that he owns you, but would never say so outright.
You are not allowed to talk to anyone about how bad this job is, under contract. He considers it unprofessional and a threat to the success of his company, and has threatened to sue if any employees quit and talk about the reasons they quit. He has the power to make your life even worse than it is now.
But outside the workplace, your boss is known as a philanthropist. He is generous and charismatic, and everyone constantly reminds you how lucky you are for getting the job.
Now picture that feeling not just at work, but everywhere. This environment is your home. This person sleeps in your bed. They go everywhere with you, or demand you check in all the time. They know all your passwords. They look through your search history. They have access to everything you know and have and are.
You still have to be polite, accommodating, apologetic, understanding, thankful. You still have to keep smiling.
Daymare
I had one yesterday. That's the only way I can describe it.
I was back in the house Spring 2015ish. I was in my current headspace, though, like I used a time machine. I was hellbent on getting out as soon as possible, but I figured it would take me two days to orchestrate.
My plan was detailed: how to get and where to find boxes (cold room - he rarely went in there), how to move everything, (bring some to folks night before) who would help me, (two friends chomping at the bit to get me out of there), and what I would do differently (take ALL of my things, sell the house, take my share)
What made it horrible was the realization that I had to suffer him for that time.
I'd have to talk to him. I'd have to have sex with him to keep him from being suspicious, and then share a bed. Then I'd have to break the news: he’d no longer have me to abuse.
The feelings I had knowing he was near came back by a fraction, and I was sick. I spent over an hour huddled in the shower.
How on earth did I live like that for so long?
Double Standards Series - Episode 4.
He rode a motorcycle, played paintball, drank expensive cognac and went to strip clubs regularly.
If i bought a sandwich while I was out I was wasting money.
More on him being disgusting
This adds more to the “shitty person who doesn’t care about other human beings especially those in positions he considers inferior” column.
He blew his nose into a FABRIC napkin at a restaurant. AT THE TABLE. I was so mortified at the thought of our server having to open that up to throw into the laundry that I actually said something.
I told him it was gross, and he should be going to the bathroom to blow his nose INTO TISSUE.
He got so angry with me that he left me in a dramatic and humiliating fashion.. Conveniently I also got to to pick up the tab that he’d racked up. He messaged me about 30 minutes later telling me he was a block away and that he didn’t want to pull up in front to pick me up.
He was embarrassed and couldn’t go back there again because I had made him act so poorly.
Fast forward: I have helped my partner secure her finances and consolidate her debt into the mortgage. We're on the path to being mortgage and debt free 7 years ahead of schedule. We're working on the house and plan to take some small trips with cash that I've saved; no credit required.
I have a retirement savings now, a few small investments, and can look forward a little.
We are not wealthy, but it's become increasingly clear that I'm pretty damn good with money.
The Truth About Money
When I was running after him I was perpetually broke. I rarely spent a dime on myself, and if I did it was for him in a round about way (a personal trainer, aesthetics, etc). He blamed my inability to budget and poor spending habits.
About a year ago, I had an experience that first lifted the veil. If you are interested, you can read about it here. Shortly after that time I cracked down and prioritized saving; I prioritized it even over him because I had realized that I truly was alone.
That was the beginning of the end of his interest in me. After all, what good am I if I am not bankrolling his interests? He severed contact approximately three months ago. I wish I had done it, but unfortunately that wasn’t the way it went.
Since we’ve ceased speaking I have, in addition to saving more money than I have ever had for myself ever, paid off the remainder of my student debt, paid off my maxed out credit card, and taken 10% off what I owe on my line of credit. All the while having a modest social life.
I am not bad with money. He was bad with my money. He is bad.
My parents moved closer to my old neighbourhood. I often have to drive by to visit them.
I still get chills and that heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach when i think that I might see him. Or worse, that he might see me.
Ghosts
Driving in our his neighbourhood this evening. That tightness in my chest returned. I held my breath when I drove past our his road.
The neighbourhood is haunted. Cursed.
Missed Milestones
It may be a sign that I’m making progress, but I missed remembering some important milestones this year:
It’s been 210 weeks since I spoke my last words to him (that’s 4 full years and 2 weeks if you don’t want to count).
It’s been 314 weeks (6 years, 2 weeks) since I lived under the same roof as him.
I’ll be 36 this week. And while my body is feeling its age (and more) at times, my mind feels younger than it ever did when I was in my 20s.
Phew!
When we were teenagers, our plan was to “leapfrog”. He was going to make a certain amount of money, and then I would have to do whatever I could to find a job that made more money. Then we would reverse and repeat.
I finished university in 2010. The job market was BLEAK. He worked in the trades, and I had a philosophy degree. Naturally, I worked in retail, and made no where near what he did. He continued to move up in his position, and so did I, but I could never catch him. Throughout the years, this was the number one excuse he used to harm me.
Things have improved since then, though I still don’t make as much money as he did. Recently, I wondered what would have happened if I had “leapfrogged” like he’d wanted me to. Then I remembered a story.
About 10-12 years ago I applied to work for the RCMP.
(Don’t judge me man, I was young and desperate. I also had some romantic notion that I could help SA survivors as a detective. Knowing what I know now about the institution, I am VERY glad it didn’t work out for me )
He was furious with me for applying; he said he hated cops, but I think he hated the idea of me having authority (and access to a weapon) more.
Then he let his plans slip. He told me if I became an RCMP officer, he would wait until I made excellent money and then leave me. Then he would cash in on the spousal support and take money from me forever.
So sorry that didn’t work out you, brah. I hope the woman you’re with now leaves you and takes every cent you have.
Unlearning
I was driving around seeing clients yesterday for about 6 hours. I'd only had a bagel for breakfast and it was nearing 6pm. I was pretty hungry.
I stopped for food, and I felt really bad about it. I confessed to my partner that I'd stopped, expecting her to agree with my assessment that it was financially irresponsible.
She didn't. Naturally. Because eating is not a luxury, and it's worth the $17.