That fake smile I pasted on
I tried to fake it ’til I made it. I really did. I was looking through old pictures trying to find something. In all the pictures with X I look like there’s a thumbtack in my shoe. I have such a grimace of a smile. I still remember the sick feeling in my stomach that came with being around him and having to be hyper-vigilant to manage his environment and try to keep him happy. Ugh. Makes me sick just thinking about it. And I thought it was flippin normal! It’s not. I am so happy to be myself and not have to worry that somebody somewhere is going to do something to upset his apple-cart and then I’m going to have to try to fix it. What an absolute relief.
He texted me something cute DS did tonight. I know he misses having me in his life and sharing moments like that with me. I know he’s not evil personified. But I also KNOW he is desperately unhealthy and I can’t even respond to his attempts to engage me in the “aren’t the kids adorable” moments of life.
Glad to have a real smile, a real laugh, a real me and pics that don’t look like there’s a tack embedded in my left big toe.
Fake it til you make it doesn’t work within abuse situations. You never make it. Ever. You just get so fake that you don’t even know who you are anymore.