What Abuse Still Tells Me

This post contains story and images that relate to emotional/mental abuse. Very little of my abuse was physical, but some of it was. This is a series of drawings I did during a week when my former abuse was causing me major depression and anxiety.

Things The Abuse Tells Me…

I was having an anxious day, I decided a bath would be a good way to calm down. Instead, I ended up crying in the bathtub and then sitting on the floor afterwards desperately texting my best friend because I hated my life. Absolutely hated it. I couldn’t find a single good thing to cling on to. My abuse was telling me, “I’m annoying, I don’t deserve to be liked, I’m going to fuck everything up, I shouldn’t have given someone all my attention.”


There was a moment when plans were uncertain and I was sure I would not be included anymore, I was forgotten about. Of course, my anxiety wouldn’t let me wait to see if I was actually forgotten. My abuse tells me there’s no reason anyone should ever remember me, I’m not special enough to take up space in someone’s mind. 

Being a Bitch

One of the things engrained in my mind is that whenever I am shy or socially awkward, I’m perceived as a bitch. For years, I was not allowed to meet my ex’s friends because I apparently came off bitchy. Only when I was dressed up as the hottest girl in town was I allowed to meet some of his friends. One night, I hung out with him and his friend while they played video games, I did my nails. Apparently, that was also bitchy of me. Even though I talked to them. I’ve got it in my mind from then on that if I’m not actively trying to please everyone, I’m the biggest bitch in the world. 

Undeserving of Love

One day, I was taking a shower. I was washing off both the dirt and anxiety from the day. I found myself standing in the shower, crying. Again. This time, the years of mental abuse starting from a child was catching up to me. The phrases, “Who would want to marry you?!” And, “No wonder you don’t have any friends.” Began to haunt me. They tore through to my soul. I’m full of love for others, but sometimes it can be so hard to love myself when the past is haunting my every moment. 


I was at a Halloween party, full of people I’d never met before. I’m not sure if I was being ignored, but it felt like my date was. He probably didn’t mean it on purpose, but that’s where my mind went considering everything I’ve been through. I felt so out of place, any time I feel out of place I feel unwanted. It’s a horrible mind trap that has been set up. I can’t wait to one day move past it. 


As my mind wanders from thought to thought, almost constantly, I’m reminded that each one passes. Each negative thought will eventually go away, if I’m lucky it’ll be replaced by something happier. 

These reflect just some of the ways past abuse can still affect someone even when that person is no longer in your life. Just because you mend a relationship, or you cut them out completely, doesn’t mean the pain leaves instantly. There is hope, though. With help, coping techniques, and forgiveness. It’s your life, you have the chance to take control. 



When You Finally Realize it’s Not Your Own Voice¬†

For years, I’ve struggled with the negative thoughts, or “voices” in my mind. The words coming from myself and my mother were the hardest to accept. The ones from others were tackled over time. It took me 10 years to realize I needed to begin work on the negativitiy from myself and my mother. But, after writing my last blog post, I realized that it may not be my mental health issues that caused me problems last night. I think there might be another trail of negative thoughts left behind from someone else. 

While I’ve taken every step possible to create distance from me and my toxic ex, his words are still engraved in my mind. I finally realize just why I was so uncomfortable last night. And God, do I wish I could have recognized it sooner. 

My ex had a difficult time understanding my social personality. I’m closed off, I don’t do well in groups of people, especially ones full of people I don’t know. I resort back to being as shy as I was in high school and earlier. I get quiet, and when I try to say something, it comes out wrong. 

He instilled in my mind that I come off as a bitch to the friends of the person I’m interested in. My ex’s best friend hated me so much at first, he tried to break us up. He won. After a while, his best friend understood I actually was cool, I just didn’t come off that way at first. However, my ex remained extremely hesitant to introduce me to people in fear I would be a bitch. He refused to introduce me to people. He told me I was a stuck up Arizona city girl with a bitchy attitude. He made me believe it. I didn’t even know until now that I believed him. 

Last night, I was so concerned with trying to make the perfect impression that I probably did come off as a bitch. Why? Because I was listening to my ex’s voice in my mind. Still haunting me. I’m not exactly sure how I’m going to get over this one. Hopefully, the guy I went out with continues to talk to me and remains in my life. Hopefully, he will give me a chance to warm up to him. Hopefully, he will let me explain. All I can do is hope. Even though, he asked if I wanted to possibly hang out for a third day in a row, I still feel like I fucked up. 

But, what I want to say is this: I know who I am. 

  • I’m caring
  • I’m loving
  • I’m happy
  • I’m funny
  • I’d do anything for someone that matters to me
  • I love deeply
  • I’m kind
  • There’s not an ounce of me that is hateful (yeah, I strongly dislike a few people)
  • I’m genuine
  • I’m a smart ass
  • I’m just plain smart
  • I’m talented
  • I’m deserving of love
  • I’m deserving of respect 
  • I’m not a bitch.


A Letter to the “Man” Who Called Me Crazy

*This post contains subject matter that may be a trigger. Again, I am not a danger to myself or others. I had my therapy appointment yesterday. I encourage everyone to seek professional help.*

Dear man child,

“You seem obsessed… it’s kinda scary.” “You’re just so attached to me. I hope you find the right doctor.” “You’re crazy.” Those are the words you said to me. Those are the words I want to thank you for. Had it not been for those words, I would have cried myself to sleep last night wondering why you can’t see that I care for you.

Something in me snapped last night. When I read those simple words, “You’re crazy” I got myself back. Anyone who truly cares for me would never call me crazy. And I knew in that moment I was not only in a battle against you, but a battle against my own self. A battle I was desperate to win.

See, the past few weeks I’ve been waiting around for someone to save me. I begged my friends, anyone to do something to save me. I couldn’t find my strength. When you showed back up I began to feel anxious. Not because I’m attached to you, but because for so long I’ve felt there is no escaping you. You always show back up, it’s just a matter of time. You’ll find me again, I know it. Whether you’re searching for me on social media, or I run into you one day, I know this isn’t the end of our story. And that’s okay.

It’s okay because you no longer have power over me. I made that clear to you last night. I told you that if you contact me again, I will get the law involved. And damn, am I serious. I’m not going to stand for emotional abuse any longer. You’re gone, I’m not afraid to get rid of anyone else who tries to drag me back down. You helped me find my strength again.

Now, I want to show the world just what a crazy, badass, strong woman looks like who has been through abuse. Physical, mental, and sexual abuse. Someone who has come out strong after this, but still seems to be weak every now and then.

This is what strength looks like when you have so little of it left. It’s a bandage to hide a new scar. It’s a shirt that hasn’t been washed in weeks. It’s a light makeup application with bright lipstick to make it seem like I put effort into how I looked. It’s a cigarette in anticipation of what’s coming next. 

You didn’t message me at all yesterday, and I’m thankful for that. Well, until last night, anyway. You gave me a chance to live my day. I went to my therapy appointment, this photo was taken beforehand. This photo was minutes before I would tell my therapist that I was self harming again. Before I would tell him you’ve shown back up. Before I would look him in the eyes and say, “I’m not doing so good.”

This is a woman ashamed of her scars. This is me after I found myself again. Waking up to a new day, with a reminder of the past. Which is all you are to me now, the past. I am ashamed because I let someone who cares so little have so much control over my state of mind. I let you drive myself to depression. I let you make me feel numb again. All of my emotional energy was being drained into our conversations. 

Now, I’ve gotten my emotional energy back. I can feel the pain of this scar, and it doesn’t feel good. I can feel the love in my heart for myself, and that does feel good. I can feel the stress of having to get work done, and it suprisingly feels great.

 I have battle wounds, battle scars. And that’s okay. It shows just how strong I am. That I can at one moment be so broken, and the next pick myself back up again. With the help of my God, my friends, and myself I will not fall. I may stumble again, but it won’t be because of you. I keep a screenshot of last night’s conversation to remind myself of how strong I need to be.

 I have not blocked your number, for I’m not hiding anymore. When I change my number, I will not give it to you. If you find me again, I will not be hurt by you. The moment you called me crazy, I lost all sympathy for you. I lost all respect for you. 

I do, however, still care. I told you that my friend and I would pray for you this week, and I will continue to do so. I will not contact you. I will not lower myself to make you feel better. My life begins now, as free as a bear in the wild. I’m coming back out of hibernation. And this time I will enjoy the sunlight on my face.

Stay strong, take care of yourself. But don’t you dare make another human being feel as worthless as I allowed you to make me feel.