If someone were to ask me if I am a good person, my response would be, “Of course. I try my best, I love to inspire and help others, and I don’t like hurting anyone.” But what about when someone tells me I’m a good person? Or how about when it comes time I tell myself I’m a good person? It’s not so easy.
On top of Bipolar ll and Anxiety Disorder, I also suffer from PTSD. Most of my PTSD comes from the mental abuse I’ve endured. It also comes from the many times I have been taken advantage of sexually. But, when it comes to the mental abuse, the thoughts linger for days.
My friend told me yesterday, I’m a good person. My boyfriend had told me he wishes I could see myself through his eyes. And a friend told me today that I’m a good person. But, why is it so hard to believe when it comes from someone else? Why can’t I just say, thank you, and believe them? Instead, my instant mental response is, “no I’m not.”
I’ve been told conflicting things from the same people. That’s what mental abuse is. One moment, they hate you and you’re worthless. The next, they love you and you’re an amazing person. It makes no logical sense and you’re left there wondering what to believe. You create your identity around the negative things they’ve said to you. You begin to torture yourself daily. Even long after you’ve ended contact with the abuser. It remains.
I am having a difficult time accepting the fact that I am in a relationship. It’s hard for me to understand why someone would actively choose to be with me for only good reasons. I feel like I’m just waiting, waiting for him to become bored with me, waiting for him to become overwhelmed with me, waiting for him to take advantage, waiting for him to leave.
My logical voice says, “these things won’t happen, you’ve found a decent human being to have by your side. He cares for you and wants you happy.” Then, the abused part of me goes, “yeah, but for how long?”
It’s not fair to him for me to be feeling this way. He’s done absolutely nothing to cause me to doubt him. Nothing at all. He’s held me close, comforted me, made me laugh. We’ve even acknowledged that one day he might act like a jerk and I’d need to tell him to “fuck off.” I let him know that if that ever happened, I’d probably be crying and he could tell himself that. We know things won’t be perfect always, and that’s okay. We’re realistic. And I love that.
I wish more than anything I could just enjoy the fact that he is my boyfriend. But, the longer we’re together, the more I wonder when he’s going to leave. It kills me inside. I don’t want to feel this way, I want to remain happy. But, how can I when all I know of love is pain and loneliness?