For most of this year, I've been in an abusive relationship. His name is 2020. 2019 and I had ended our slightly rocky relationship amicably but, on the first of this year, 2020 came in no holds barred hitting me in the heart with the passing of my father. That's ok. One smack at the start of the year. A few weeks later he slapped me with losing my job. This is where things started to get a little messy. But I wasn't covering up bruises. Not yet. I was still fighting back. Then we all got sucker punched. Forced, for good reason, to stay in our homes for three months. I had grown accustomed to being on my own but this is where things get difficult. This is when 2020 decided to move in. This is where 2020 handed me the bottle and said "you think you have demons now?”
This is where he really did some damage. He got inside my head. He sat on the couch with me. He got in bed with me, tainting the one place I held sacred. He stole my words, the only thing I had keeping me sane, but I couldn't put a pen to the page while he sat staring at me, quietly judging. Another strike came when my stepdad died very suddenly. Just another blow to the heart. I vowed to pick myself up and try to start over. But 2020 wasn't done with me.
All the while he kept stoking the fire for my demons to play. Then he took the one thing I was holding onto, the one keeping me safe. He took my heart. I gave in. I had no more fight left in me. I let 2020 win. I did things that I would normally never imagine doing. I hit bottom and 2020 just held my hand and let me jump. I went to a dark place. Shut people out and let the wrong people in. 2020 laughed in my face. He was in the car with me when I crashed. Loving every minute of destruction.
This was when I said enough was enough. I kicked 2020 out. Slammed the door. I moved to paradise. I thought being in the sunshine that he would stay away. Leave me to grieve and heal in peace, but he wouldn't let me forget about the year we had had together. He kept reminding me in little ways about the things that I had lost. The things that I willingly did. The choices that I willingly made. The destruction I was doing to myself.
With it finally, almost, being over I am finally ready to take responsibility for my actions. I am not proud of some of them. I woke up this morning and decided that I'm finally ready to take my life back. I screamed "fuck you, 2020. We're done. This is it. I am doing this for me. You can't hurt me anymore! I am living my life for me now."
I am quietly, slowly, and personally putting my demons to sleep. Putting the little fires out one by one until there is nothing left but embers. Just a small reminder of who I was and who I want to get back to. Yes, I'm left with a scar, but I won't look at it with sadness or fear anymore. I will look at it and be damn proud of myself for making the decision to make a change; scary as it may be. I will also remind me that I am not alone, I have the support and gentle hands of a few people who are with me, always.
I do not want anyone to think I wrote this for any type of recognition. I write to purge the feelings that have been left to me. I write because this is my escape now and I will never let my words be taken from me again. I write for me now.
There were some good moments. Some wonderfully quiet moments. And those I cherish. I know there will be more. I can feel it. There's a new guy coming. His name is 2021. He has kind eyes and a nice smile. There will be healing with 2021. I'm done with destruction. We all had our own bad times this year. Let's greet this one with kindness.
So, I was in an abusive relationship last year...his name WAS 2020...and he can fuck off.
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By Zahid Hussainabout 7 hours ago in Humans
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