Allergic.

For the longest time, I have told Chris that I feel like I’m allergic to him.

I’ve never experienced this type of upset to my very being. I never even thought of how one can be allergic to another person, but now I know that yes, it is possible. My body and my senses certainly let me know that this person was, and is, not good for me to be with or to be around.

Ever since I started to see him for who he really is, my body has had bad physical reactions to him. Even if I wanted to ignore him, or forgive him, or forget all the sleepless nights and rough days, my body won’t allow it. As I felt, and found out (literally piece-by-piece), that he was not who he claimed to be, (faithful, hard-working, kind, sober) the more symptoms I experience(d). It continues today, long after I left. These ailments and annoyances now manifest during the daily harassment via phone calls or text message, and also during or prior to the visits with our son. It starts before I even see him. It starts with the mere thought that I have to be around him. My heart starts thumping loudly in my ears, and my face either gets red from being flushed, or goes pale.

My anxiety kicks in and I begin to shake. I get agitated, fidgety, and upset.

My blood pressure rises, I get itchy, my adrenaline builds and I feel like my body and mind are preparing for some battle which won’t end up revealing itself until a little bit later. I get dizzy, irritable, confused and clumsy, because with him, it’s always something. His character (or lack thereof) forces me out of my character each time. I can’t be my authentic self around him, he changes me, he makes me nervous and angry. He turns me into someone I don’t recognize.

If I’m on the phone with him, the people around me know it’s him by the immediate change in my demeanor, the tone of my voice, the things I’m having to ‘explain’. My body remains my compass in my dealings with him, always showing signs of my fear, anxiety, and discomfort. How do you get rid of someone who won’t go, someone who appears so nice in public but in private he causes nothing but turmoil. And not just with me, he behaves like a bratty child around his mom in their shared home; yelling, stomping around, being mean, slamming doors and upsetting the flow of the entire living environment. Toxic, to everyone but his little group of fellow drug-users.

When he is in my presence, I don’t paint, I don’t write, I don’t read, I don’t want to do anything. Just as he makes me a mess of anxious energy, he can instantly render me docile. He stifles my creativity with his harsh, and huge attitude. He never tires, so it never stops.

There has never been but a small handful of times that things just went smoothly. There is always drama, some kind of crisis erupts, minor peeves to major issues pop-off quickly or through steady build-up. I lose something, something gets broken, I get hurt, he intentionally damages my belongings, something malfunctions, he hides my things so I can’t leave, he disables my car in some way, there’s an encounter with one of the losers he surrounds himself with…. some inevitable doom happens, ruining the time with immediate dark, stormy clouds. No peace, no fun.

I began to get more and more uncomfortable around him, unable to keep still and distressed so deeply that my body would get stiff and sore, and sometimes even feel cold. Thoughts of all the unforgivable shit he put me through just swirling around in my mind, making me sick, and making me want to physically fight him in beast-mode fashion. It was draining just trying to function ‘normally’, trying to keep the visit focused on father and son and not reconciliation between Chris and I because I’m not at all willing.

This is someone who held me down in the dark by both my wrists, his body weight on top of my pregnant belly, screamed vulgarities at me in the darkness and bit my face.

This is someone who pushed me down the stairs onto my back when I was nine months pregnant, then kicked my feet out of the way so he close the door.

This is someone who burned me with a lit cigarette as he smashed my body in the bathroom doorway.

This is someone who continuously called me a ‘dirty fucking bitch’ and a ‘lying whore’ as I quietly nursed our newborn son. He punched my thigh (at five o’clock in the morning, after smoking heroin in the tool shed) as I lay with our baby cradled in my arms.

This is someone who punched me in the sternum eleven weeks post baby delivery. He knocked the wind out of me, then stood over me, mocking me as I painfully tried to catch my breath. Amazingly, he wonders why and how I ever could have left such a ‘great guy’ like him.

I had nightmares about him and everything he did to me for a good two years, and the vivid images of him haunt me, because he still chases me in my sleep. The night before last, I had a dream that he just appeared. All of a sudden I was in a physical struggle with him, there was no warning. I could feel the form of a shotgun, fully aware as if I were awake. In my dream, or nightmare rather, he was standing up, and I was on my knees, holding onto the barrel. I remember distinctly thinking ‘he’s gonna shoot me in the stomach’. It was so real that I could feel his body, and my body, and I could feel the gun all over as I gripped it to prevent him from fatally harming me. I woke up in a panic, hoping I wasn’t next to him.

No matter what, and even if it will hurt me, God has always brought things to my attention that I need to know, including people or situations I need to be away from. I’m almost led by a force that will push and pull my senses and emotions until I finally get the message. Emotions are ‘energy-in-motion’ and as an empath, I experience this intensely. This ‘relationship’ and break-up are no exception. Chris throws off my entire balance, like when the weight is unequally distributed in a washing machine, it jumps all over and bangs around until you lift the lid and readjust it. My body warns me, and my spirit doesn’t settle until a couple days after I’m free-and-clear from him. He drains my battery, and sucks the life out of me.

‘Love’ between an empath and a narcissist is the perfect storm. To this day, I am dumbfounded at how I could have ever loved someone who did all these horrible things and behaved like a dove in public, and a rabid, feral dog in private. The abuse happens so subtly at first, crumb by crumb, love-bombing in between accusations and altercations; it’s so confusing to one’s psyche…. one minute everything is fine and good, the next, everything is blowing up in my face. After ugly fights, he then cries and begs me to forgive him. Nothing about him makes sense to my mind or spirit, so my body reacts, setting off alarms and forming a protective barrier. It tells me to get away from him, and to stay away.

Twenty-six months later, he still won’t go.

When I was with him, my job was to cook, clean, take his shit, spread my legs, and shut up about it.

Since I left him, now he demands that I forgive him, and just act like nothing ever happened. Therefore I’m to give him my very best self while he abuses me and degrades me, cheats on me, and laughs at me with his fellow derelicts. In his ideal world, he could do what he wants, when he wants, and I just have to take it, and smile and act happy as he uses my body and my delicious Puerto Rican energy for his own shallow, and temporary pleasure.

The only time I feel better, is when I’m completely away from him, no contact.

The more he’s gone, the better I feel and the more I’m healing. The more I stay away from him and keep him away from us, the more the psychological torture continues; messages day and night, calling me names, accusing me of everything he did, throwing the same ugly, old hagg (Nicole) in my face.

I want him gone, he won’t go. He won’t just tuck his tail between his legs and bow out gracefully after all the damage he caused. My life is to remain all about him, my love is to go to only him. He is allowed to fuck everything and anything, meet with, sneak around with every thirsty whore within a forty-five minute vicinity, but I better not make eye contact with a man in the store.

He is a jealous hypocrite, a dangerous covert narcissist, a person who literally blew up birds with Alka-Seltzer when he was a kid. I hate being anywhere near him, he is always in competition with me, always trying to ‘one-up’ someone who doesn’t want any part of him, someone who is so happy to be rid of him. The only other people who can like such a person as he, is other narcissists, others who lack empathy, others who have no feeling but for themselves, people like Nicole. She is the kind of desperate and vile trash who likes being the side-piece so she can laugh at whatever female she is doing it to, proud and haughty, looking like a haggard dish rag, acting like a prize, ordering from the senior menu. It’s crazy how she ‘loves’ Chris after all the things he did to her as well, how she still loves to hang out with him…. He literally makes me break out in hives, and that mud duck welcomes him every time, she’s gross and it’s crazy how she can claim to love and want someone like that.

I could care less about him and don’t want him at all. He didn’t even have my phone number for a year and only got it after he heard me tell my doctor’s office as I was weeping, and we share a son together. He doesn’t have my address and if I were at a party, I would be asking ‘who invited that kid, he has to go’.

I left him more than two years ago, and he continues to harass me, beg me back, argue with me about the past, plead his case, twist the facts, antagonize me with his relentless belittling, and stalks me to the point where I can’t even sleep because I am fantasizing about headbutting him until his forehead splits open.

When I’m away from him, my life is peaceful, pleasantly ‘normal’, and highly spiritual. When he entangles me in his drama, it affects my whole body, all my senses, all my emotions. I feel so trapped, like he is still able to control me from over an hour away and years of distance.

I’ve had enough, but that doesn’t matter to him. He did so many unforgivable things to me, yet he thinks I should still desire him sexually, and likewise. He is mean, rude, short-tempered, and an habitual liar, but he expects a Stepford wife.

His bad vibes and negative energy are such a turn-off. He’s one of those males who belongs to the streets, sleeping with or swindling everyone who crosses his path. He has become ‘icky’ to me. Everytime I think about him, I just close my eyes and cringe. Before I even knew anything was going on, something just felt ‘off’. I regret that I fell into his trap, and believed the things he told me, all the times he said he was ‘so sorry’, instead of paying attention to my instincts and energy-alarms.

I’m relieved that it’s over, even though he won’t accept that it is…. my soul is finally calm and comfortable again… sleep brings rest, the house is serene, and the day brings love and laughter….