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General The Angry Thread

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(Possibly triggering for childhood sexual abuse)

I am venting right now.

I am effing FURIOUS that my spouses
's parents got his abuser therapy but figured that my spouse "seemed fine" after the assault and never bothered to get therapy for him.

I am furious that they thought it was a great idea to have his abuser as a surprise dinner guest when he went back to visit-- wouldnt it be great to catch up?

I am furious that he is expected to forgive because "everyone makes mistakes". Yeah. Everyone does, me included. My mistakes run along the lines of "oops i forgot to buy mayo at the store" rather than repeatedly sexually abusing a small child though. I dont think im alone in this, and i dont think im alone in believing those mistakes are NOT on the same level.

Im furious that im "the wrong woman for him" and spouse "could do better" for bluntly pointing out that i am not going to be kind, considerate or polite if in the same room as his abuser, and that it would be best for everyone involved if no one decides to spring that on me.

Im furious that my spouse's family has cut ties with him because of me stating that.

And... to be perfectly honest with you folks.... im furious that no one has put me in that position, because i would finally be able to look into the face of all my problems and spit in it, rather than having to just clean up that emotional devastation he created.
 
@Eekboo - You probably don't need to be told this but please know that your outrage is normal and appropriate.

I once went to a BBQ at a workmate's house and her mother turned up - with her stepfather - who had gone to jail for sexually abusing my workmate when she was a child. And everybody seemed ok with this!!!! I scooped up my beautiful 4 year old daughter and left immediately.

I cannot get my head around the normalisation of CSA.
 
I'm even angrier now that I wrote a whole f*cking rant, and then my internet crashed and the entire post just disappeared. God f*cking damit. f*cking f*ck. God f*cking damit. I don't feel like writing down everything that I feel all over again. You know what. I don't care. I'm just going to spew out whatever thoughts I have.

Val, I swear to f*cking god, I am so sick and goddamn tired. I'm so sick and tired of being a secondary character in a story revolving around your life. I'm so sick and tired of being constantly dismissed. I'm so sick and tired of that parasite's BULLf*ckERY. I've been with you for ten f*cking years. I've been your best friend since we were 12 years old. I've helped you and comforted you time and time again since we were TWELVE YEARS OLD. I was f*ckING TWELVE and I was trying to calm you down from panic attacks. Of course, back then we both didn't know that you had an anxiety disorder, let alone f*cking depression and PTSD. But of course, now that you're 21, none of that matters, does it? No, forget all the times I was there for you, forget all the times I told you I'd never abandon you, forget all the times I stayed up at ridiculously stupid hours in order to make sure that you were okay.

There is only SO f*ckING MUCH I can do, Val. You live in Texas. I live in Canada. And yet for almost every single day for 10 years, I've spoken to you. I've messaged you on skype or I called or texted you. I've spent hours upon HOURS of my life making sure that you were okay, even when I was supposed to be having fun elsewhere. But no. You're not going to remember all the times I've shown my unconditional love for you. Instead, you're going to remember that one span of time when I was 16 and I was eager to explore the world and meet new people and bond with them. You're going to remember that one single span of time for about two months where I met friends that shared my artistic passions and I wanted to talk to them a lot. Yes. Okay. I talked with them a LOT more than I did with you at that time, which was rude of me and a mistake on my part. Yes, I know I f*cked up. I know I made you feel like shit. I didn't f*cking mean to do that. I was a TEENAGER. I was cooped up in a small bubble with you since childhood, I WANTED to break free. I'm SORRY I got angry that one time and made you feel afraid. But in the end, I didn't f*cking abandon you, now did I? No, I did not. I AM NEVER GOING TO ABANDON YOU. The more your f*cking parasites tell you that I will, the more I want to sink my claws into you and screech at your disorders. But do you really blame me? Do you really blame me for feeling cornered and desiring to be free? Do you really blame me for wanting to find people who validated my feelings?

That's another f*cking thing. Val, for years and years, I have validated how you feel. Even if the topic was originally about my pain, if you became hurt, I immediately f*cking helped and catered to you and did everything in my willpower to subdue the monsters. Anxiety was easier to subdue. Depression and Stress on the other hand were not. But after time and time again of my problems somehow finding a way to worm into your consciousness and create a trigger that I then have to deal with, can you really blame me for no longer voicing you my problems and running to other people? Can you really blame me for WANTING TO BE VALIDATED AND FEEL SAFE?

The night I told you that I got a boyfriend, I told you that I was so reluctant to speak because I was scared of being invalidated. You told me that my feelings were important and valid. You told me that I was a person and deserved love. For a split moment, I thought I had my best friend back. And I was such a f*cking fool for believing that. The moment I told you, you were gone. You spiralled. You disassociated. You spoke to me in the 3rd person for three days. You swerved between rage and agony. You kept telling me about how you wanted to die, how you were hopeless, helpless and without a future. This was about you again. All about f*cking you. No, it doesn't matter how much I say I care and love you and that nothing will change between us, does it? It doesn't matter how much I repeat to you that you're the most important thing in my life. It doesn't f*cking matter what I say. It DOESN'T MATTER, because that little parasite takes my words and somehow makes them horrifying to your ears. That little f*cker drowns you in darkness and when I reach out my hand to pull you out, instead of grabbing my hand, instead of TRUSTING someone who has helped you time and time again, you decide to believe in that monster. You decide to believe that THING in your head and you recoil away from me. You scream at me and you writhe and kick in the darkness, begging for help, and yet you refuse. To f*cking. Grab. My hand. You refuse to trust me. You refuse to believe in me. You have decided that the parasite - a monster that corrupts and distorts reality - is more 'real' than I am. Me, a real, physical f*cking person, is not as real as that thing in your head.

And when I look at that bastard, I stare at it dead in the face and it smirks at me. It laughs at me. It tells me that no matter what I do, I'm powerless.

You're scared I'll abandon you and move on without you, you say? f*ck. Off. I'M the one who lives in constant anxiety and paranoia, terrified at the idea that one day, you will no longer be there. When you get scared that I'll abandon you, I tell you that I won't, that you're important to me, that I love you, that no matter what the f*ck happens I'm stuck to you whether you like it or not. But when I am scared and desperate, and I tell you that I'm scared you'll kill yourself and abandon me, you don't comfort me. When I beg and plead for you to just wait a few more days, to keep on going for a little while longer, you tell me "I'll try, but I can't promise you that." Val, on all f*cking grounds, you have no right to be afraid. You have no f*cking right, because I've proved to you a million times over that I will never f*cking abandon you. You, on the other hand, have given me every f*cking reason to distrust you, disbelieve you, fear every single waking moment I spend away from you and fear the possibility that I'll wake up the next morning and you will no longer be there.

I know you have suffered. You have suffered far more than I ever will.

But I grow tired, Val. I grow tired of staying up until 2am telling you that you have a future. I grow tired of listening to the same f*cking thing over and over again. I grow tired of being distrusted. I grow tired of having to sit at the side of my boyfriend's bed, calling you on my phone to calm you the f*ck down while he struggles to sleep because he feels like he's responsible for causing you to have seperation anxiety for me. I grow tired of my dad telling me that you're using me. I grow tired, Val. I just grow so, so tired.

You,re undergoing therapy soon. I know. I know you are. I know things will get better. I just want you to understand that just because I like talking to other people, doesn't mean that you're worthless. It doesn't mean I'll leave you. It doesn't mean that you have no future.

So get the f*ck up. Learn how to build yourself as a person with independance. Learn that being constantly dependant on me will make you f*cking miserable. Learn that the words the parasites feed you are f*cking lies. Get back on your meds. Write. Draw. Stop critizing and self loathing yourself for things that aren't your fault. Stop berating yourself exactly how your abusers berated you. Stop that. Stop. Stop.

Please. Please. Fly. Learn to fly.

Please. I beg of you. It hurts. It hurts to see you in pain. It hurts to see you like this. I haven't truly spoken to you in years. Every day, I wake up and I can sense Stress looming over you, watching, waiting, and grinning sinisterly at me, waiting for me to mess up. Waiting for the perfect sentence to twist and turn. Waiting for the perfect thing to make you feel like I don't care.

Please. I beg of you. I know it hurts. I know it does. It hurts me too.
 
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I would rather suck the sputum out of a sick Scotsman' snot rag than go to another dysfunctional family reunion!

Geez! My mind boggled at that one, but I liked it (being a Scotsman)

My late wife's family really screwed me after her passing, and pulled some stunts that you wouldn't believe even if I told you, bottom line, stole everything, and that made me really ****ing angry!
 
Egh. I need this topic again. I'm just so frustrated.



"I'm sorry that I couldn't help you."

I didn't TELL YOU what I was feeling back then. I was a stubborn asshole and I didn't tell you what I was feeling. You COULDN'T have helped over something you DIDN'T KNOW WAS HAPPENING. Stop blaming yourself. Stop calling yourself pathetic. Stop.

"All I did was just be a big baby."

Holy f*cking shit. You were SCARED. You were HURT. You DIDN'T KNOW WHAT THE HELL WAS HAPPENING TO ME. You weren't f*cking whining. You were terrified and rightfully so. Stop f*cking diminishing your emotions to that of a rampant goddamn child.

"I'm always just so f*cking hurt and scared, aren't I?"

Love, I'm sorry to break it to you, maybe you totally forgot, but you have Social Anxiety, Depression and Post-Traumatic Stress disorder. These are all things that cause fear. PTSD causes you to feel always on guard. So yes. Yes you are going to feel f*cking scared, and yes, you do need to go to therapy and learn how to not be afraid constantly, unlearn these stupid cognitive distortions you have, and learn to take care of yourself.

"You are only saying this to make me feel better."

Oh. So this is how I'm treated now? Taking care of you for ten f*cking years brought me an excruciating ammount of stress and pain. You think I did that for FUN? You think I did that JUST BECAUSE? No, I did it because I MEANT IT. I did it because I LOVE AND CARE ABOUT YOU AND TRULY BELIEVE YOU ARE A BEAUTIFUL PERSON. Am I mad at you right now? YES, because you basically just kicked my love and kindness in the face. You kicked my efforts to help you in the face. You keep preaching about how no one reaches out to you or cares about you, and yet when I f*cking do, you decide that my kindness is fake.

"You should have let me die."

I'm not going to even comment anymore. If I have to screech at you one last f*cking time why your death would have only brought me misery, I'm going to explode. I've told you half a million f*cking times why I'm not going to let you die for as long as I live. Put your big girl pants on, use your f*cking brain, and repeat and remember the evidence and proof of love and adoration that people have provided you with.

"What if it's the only way you'll notice me? What if somehow my mental illnesses are the only things keeping our friendship?"

I wish I could have told you that was the stupidest, most ignorant and atrocious thing I have ever hear spill out of you mouth. I wish I could. Hey love. Do you remember what kept our friendship together as children, despite your panic attacks? Do you remember why our friendship was so strong? It's because we had fun together. We were happy together. We laughed and created stories and adventures for ourselves, immersing ourselves into a beautiful and colorful world. We were happy together, despite the bad times. /That/ is what kept our friendship together. Your mental illnesses are f*cking destructive. They're evil and consuming. They drain you and they drain me. They take away everything we've ever loved, leaving you broken and hurt. You say you feel distant from people. You feel distant from me. You feel like I'm distancing myself from you. Well no f*cking shit. You've spent so much time loathing and hating yourself that you haven't even bothered to show an inkling of happiness. You even told me that our creative worlds feel 'scary' to you now. And I've been hurt and saddened because you no longer wish to have fun with me. You have no desire to have fun. You desire to wallow and drown in the dark, and because I'm your f*cking best friend I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you're pulled out of there. The parasites aren't keeping our friendship together Val. It is the very f*cking thing that is ripping it apart. Your self loathing, your distrust in me, your fears projected by PTSD are amplifying your fear of the world and your fear of me. That monster is the thing that is causing you to feel distant. And by saying that, you are giving it power. You are giving it the warm f*cking welcome to stay with you. And I will not allow that. If you do not change your mentality, if you do not change how you view yourself, if you do not grow the f*ck up and learn how to ground yourself in the present, if you keep dismissing all of my words and my efforts to help you, then maybe our friendship will dissipate. But know, ALWAYS know, that it will NOT be by my hands that our thread of fate will be cut. If you keep going on like this, it will be you that does it, out of pure fear.

Do you want that? Do you want fear to cause our friendship to fall? Do you want PTSD to seperate you from me? Do you want that?

Of course you don't.

Get up. Stop treating yourself like a broken child. You're an adult. You're 21. It's time to take care of that child. It's time to heal its wounds and chase its fears. You're going to have to do something that you are scared of doing, Val. But it is necessary for you to heal. Grow up. Become the adult that would have protected the younger you. Become the adult that would have supported you. Grow up. You're not in a cage anymore. Regain control of you life. You can do it. I believe in you.
 
Not meaning I 'like' how angry you are, just liking as acknowledgement. You all have every right to be angry :tup:
 
So we are planning to spend the day with friends. You notice I am a bit quiet and ask what is wrong. I say I don't want to talk about it at the moment.

You choose to push the matter, so I explain and get extremely upset in doing so.

You have the option to leave me to pull myself together before we go out. Or offer comfort and/or support. Or you can take every f*cking thing I say, twist it around, and make it all about you, even though none of it is about you.

Well it wasn't. It is now. Now I need to reassess our entire relationship and completely adjust my expectations of you as a husband and partner.

Arsehole.
 
I love this thread.

Here goes...

F*ck you! F*ck you for being in complete denial about your problems and making me look like a complete fool to all of our family and friends!

F*uck you for abandoning us AGAIN and making everyone believe it is my fault and you don't have a problem!!! How dare you recommit to our relationship and trick me into believing we were secure. You bought a house with me and you let me spend thousands of dollars on a stupid F*ucking "family pool" letting me daydream about summer days that the family would swim and barbecue. What a joke.

Now you have stiffed me with all of this responsibility of the house and our child. After 3 weeks of not hearing from you and crying hysterical every time our daughter mentions your name, you show up to finally see her and make me feel like it's my fault you haven't been here for her!!!

F*ck you for being so mature and finally having a conversation about how you plan to financially and emotionally support your child during which you told me I'm lucky that your willing to pay anything and see her at all!!!!!! Wtf!!!!!!

You refused to see her everyday and made it look like that was a lunatic idea! Yes your right, coming and being a parent everyday IS really hard, I know because I f*ucking do it EVERYDAY!!!

I wanted to punch you right in the f*cking face when you had the nerve to say to me that you plan to stop drinking "for you"
But you have no intention on addressing your PTSD because "it's not a problem". Why do you think you drink you a**hole!!! Your a drunk because you can't deal with the symptoms from your mother f*ucking trauma!!! Before you were a drunk, you were a drug addict!!!!

You won't admit that your professionally diagnosed PTSD is actually a part of you and it IS the cause of the desimation of our family because god f*ucking forbid you eat crow and have to admit to everyone around us that I have done NOTHING to cause this and In fact have kept humpy dumpty together for the past 4 years!!!!

So go ahead and quit drinking.. When your sober the darkness inside of you is going to eat you alive and even if you don't tell anyone else the truth, I WILL KNOW.

Your a f*ucking coward and I really look forward to when humpty falls off the wall again. douche bag.
 
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