Old phones & the memories they contain

Friday morning at the crack of dawn. My cat woke me up about 20 minutes before my alarm. My boyfriend has forgiven me. I don't know why he's so forgiving towards me. I don't know why I deserve his love. My job and attitude towards it have gone from poor to fair. Today is my review. I'm nervous.

I feel like I have definitely gained weight and it's freaking me out. Just another reason to quit weed. The munchies are so real. My aging adult body cannot just write it all off, the way it used to. I'm uncomfortable in my own skin. I've read that quitting weed zaps hunger for awhile. If only I could be strong enough to really give it a try. 

Weeks ago, I had the realization that I struggle to feel safe in my skin. Last night, I looked through two old cell phones, to see if there were any old text messages from my brother who passed. There was not. But there was a few "locked" messages from my ex. The abusive D. I don't know why I saved them. I guess to never forget. Did I really think that I would?

One of them, in the context of him defending his abuse to me, was him saying that I got hit with a pillow but deserved a cinderblock.

Another said that he wished we kept the baby.

Another said that I was the ONLY beautiful girl in the entire world. And that he loved me so much, "it was hell".

I wish I didn't read them again. I'm glad that 99% of our communications have been deleted. All social media conversations are gone. But those few messages, plus old journals, plus this blog obviously - exist. It's hard sometimes to remember him, and how he was. I don't NEED to remember him. I don't WANT to remember him.

But he was someone I dated for so long. I thought I loved him. We experienced my pregnancy and chose to go through the horrors of abortion together. I'm not going to say it brought us closer because hell no. But it was a MAJOR event in both of our lives. It affected us both and I would never say that it didn't.

I'm just glad I got out. Ugh. Why did I give him so much of me? 

More importantly, why, in the aftermath of his abuse, did I BECOME so abusive? Why did I learn from him? Why do I find myself SAYING similar things, and doing similar things? "The abused become abusive" is something true in my experience. And I completely admit that I have become abusive. It's not ok. I just don't know how to stop.

I gotta get ready for work. Had nightmares last night, as usual.

Hopefully today doesn't suck.