I spent 20+ years with my abusive best friend. I knew him from my senior year in college until the year I came out as a crossdresser to my friends. (It was’t until I was free of him, that I had the realization and the safety to come out as transgender.)
He displayed all the classic patterns of abuse: love bombing, social isolation, social control, emotional manipulation, gaslighting, and occasionally, physical abuse. We became friends at a time in my life when I was extremely introverted and socially awkward. I only had a few friends at the time, and he quickly displaced them to become the dominant person of interest in my life.
I spent almost all of my free time with him. After a few years, I ended up living across the hall from him when I bought my first condo. We essentially lived as roommates at that point, sharing our living spaces with each other and his wife. Later, I even opened a comic book store with him, which had a really nice six year run.
During this time, he became increasingly more controlling and emotionally abusive. It was gradual, invasive, and insidious. At times, he would yell at me so much, I would sit catatonically trying to find a reason for his anger in my head. Later I realized that his angry displays were just that, displays. He was very good at roleplaying whatever emotional state he wanted to portray. His threats would have me begging him to spare me whatever calamity was coming, from him moving away to withholding some emotional support. I was forever on edge, especially during the last half of our relationship.
And yes, I am being slightly vague, and not giving specific examples because I’m not writing this to show how much of a horrible person he is. I expect you can grasp that from my more clinical descriptions. This was, after all, twenty years of abuse. I don’t actually wish to remember too much of it.
However, there are many things which have come from this that I now want to discuss. First, is the fact that I’ve got C-PTSD from this time. I am still triggered by the stupidest of things that happen at times brought on by another’s innocent comment or action because they remind me of his use of that situation to control or abuse me. It’s been over three years since I’ve seen him, and I still get triggered by shit he did to me. Out of the blue. Stuff I don’t remember until put into a context where it happened. I imagine that’s going to continue for quite some time. Maybe forever.
Second is that I still miss him. He was such an influential person in my life, and it wasn’t all bad. Abusers are never all bad. The good parts were really fun. We built fantastic worlds together, played video games, ran a comic book store, had amazing philosophical and scientific discussions, and were even there for each other in a clutch. It hurts that he’s gone, even though I’m glad he is.
Finally, though, I’ve only recently been able to hate him for what he did to me. I already hated him for what he did to my friends, but I never let myself really just fervently, viscerally hate him for what he did to me. And no, I’m not ever going to forgive him or forget what he did. I can’t. And I don’t feel like I should or that he deserves it. Even if he becomes the most morally good person on the planet, I don’t ever want to interact with him again.
I have spent so much mental energy arguing with his ghost in my head that I can’t even imagine speaking to him in person. If I catch a glimpse of someone that looks like him or walks like him at a distance, I still have a moment of panic. This is not someone I ever want to meet again, even though it’s possible since I think we live in the same city.
Anyway, there’s no moral to this post. There’s no lesson. There’s just an expression of pain and hatred toward my abuser.
And perhaps a plea…If you are in the same situation, try to get out. And if you need help, reach out. There are people and organizations that can help you.