Well, I finally saw a publicly covered therapist. As it turns out, her job is just to refer me to another resource. Another appointment, weeks away.
Ah, public health. Because I’m not suicidal, I get shuffled along. Probably will be a few more times. I’m glad that various levels of government will intervene if I’m in a major crisis, but I’m kind of annoyed that my slow death isn’t treated as seriously. I’ll have a job and go to private practice again by the time I finally get my face-to-face with someone from Alberta Health.
Still no job prospects. Interviews that are now 2 weeks old, “they’ll call me,” so at this point they’re not calling me. Plenty of applications since, but no callbacks. Rent is very overdue. I don’t want to test my landlord’s generosity any further.
Still can’t sleep for longer than a few hours without having nightmares.
Still spend half my days trying to reconcile my judgement with the notion that I trusted a walking, talking bottomless well of an ego.
Putting my ex in 100% No Contact has had some unfortunate side effects. I’ve exhausted my kink options–one dungeon shields my rapist, the other my narcissistic ex. I think a few of our mutual friends have caught on to my ex’s behaviour, but as contacting them puts me peripheral to her, I haven’t reached out to find out if they’ve taken any action. Not that it would make the abuse go away. But at least I wouldn’t be so isolated.
I know before I started full No Contact, my ex was screaming my name from the rooftops in a prolonged smear campaign. I don’t know how well it worked. The genius part about her strategy is that fighting it would precisely play into her hands, making me out to be “shrill and unbalanced” if I dared to object angrily about stories spinning me as unreasonable for asserting healthy boundaries (which, as a narcissist, she can only interpret as a personal attack, because I’m no longer serving up unquestioning loyalty. For the narcissist, who clearly deserves everything, it’s all quid and no pro quo).
I’m “entitled,” because I called out her consent violation for what it was, and her ensuing non-apology which tried to shift blame on to me for having buttons I don’t want pushed. I’m “needy,” because I proactively negotiated additional aftercare with some of our friends prior to playing, which for some unfathomable reason she decided to antagonize when we fought after the scene. I’m “oversensitive,” because she gagged me without giving me a safe signal, and that caused me to panic. I’m a “liar,” because I pointed out that she added to the scene while it was in progress, which ethical kinksters don’t do because once someone is in subspace they are no longer capable of giving consent. These mistakes, from an allegedly pro Domme, with 3 years of experience. Assuming that wasn’t a lie, too. I’m “toxic,” because I told her her behaviour was unacceptable and I would not trust her with another private interaction again.
Although at this point, I don’t trust her with a public interaction either. Now that I’ve seen the puppet strings she pulls, I realize she’s got them attached to a lot of people. Our then-mutual Top. Most of our mutual friends. Everyone I care for at the Thursday night rope practice. I don’t know who bought into her story, who didn’t. I do know I’m at a delicate point in my life, with little to no security, and a chance encounter with her would likely induce a panic attack. And I do know that if I try to share this with the community, I’ll be written off as an ex with a jilted ego.
Here’s the jilted ego speaking: my ex was a stupid hippie who spent exorbitant sums on organic groceries and thinks yogurt is a skincare product and slept on the floor because something something chiropractor. Okay? That’s the petty shit that we can kind of laugh at. That’s what “jilted ego” looks like. Oh, and her moisturizer smelled like a skunk being bludgeoned to death with rotting hamsters.
The complaints I’ve listed here? That’s emotional abuse. My ex manipulated, intimidated, coerced, and devalued me on the regular. That night was just the night I started to notice. That’s not my ego speaking. I don’t gain anything from listing this, especially since my ex has been setting me up as someone crazy who has a grudge to settle and an axe to grind. Jilted egos look like red cheeks and averted eyes. Her presence makes me so sick to my stomach that I have to excuse myself to vomit in the toilet.
There’s supposed to be a play party tomorrow. I’m supposed to be volunteering, front and centre, as I have every single time this party gets hosted. I love this dungeon, its community, but if I bump into my ex (which is pretty well guaranteed), I’ll fall apart. It’ll cut me up from the inside, because she’ll be chatting someone up, digging in her hooks and setting the strings. I’ve had to deactivate my Fetlife (kinky Facebook), because pictures of her play would pop up on my feed even though I’ve blocked her. Seeing someone else under her influence… I can’t deal with it. And trying to warn people means confirming the “crazy ex” bullshit she’s been spouting since our break up.
I think I have to go in early tomorrow to tell the dungeon owner that I can’t attend their venue anymore. Not for a while, at least.