It’s kinda crazy, really. For the last 6 months, anytime anyone would ask, I would shit on myself as I explained to people how I acted a fool throughout the relationship then *finally* fucked up royally and ended things with him for good.

I’ve also spent the last 6 months feeling like crap for what *I’d* done wrong and finding more ways to hurt and blame myself, and apologize to him, until I decided to reach out for help. 

A couple of times, I casually mentioned to friends that 2 days before I dumped him, I was having sex with my ex but wasn’t feeling it anymore, so I asked if we could stop, and he refused to stop until he came. He then continued to have sex with me even though I was sore as hell and told him I needed a break. 

The following 2 days were a bit hazy.

Last week was the first time I mentioned it in a while, to a male friend. His reply: *I’m sorry.* Me: *Oh, it’s nothing!*

Just now picking myself up from a meltdown after realizing what I suppose my subconscious has been trying to tell me for the longest time. 

I just can’t believe I hate myself and fear abandonment enough that I would deny to myself that I was violated and had every reason to kick him to the curb. Self-gaslighting is not a game, y’all. 

But what’s worse is I almost took him back. 😐 I know self-love isn’t something you learn to work with overnight, but damn, how does one keep unlocking so many levels of self-hate?