BEAT FACE

I had become addicted to the emotional rollercoaster that Black sent me on. I struggled to understand why I was still there. What would make me stay with someone who obviously didn’t give a fuck about me? He’d tell me that I was “the only bitch” that he ever had who was "this hard" to be with. I was “hard headed and wouldn’t listen,” therefore he had to teach me. The abuse wasn’t always physical, he would mentally tear me to pieces, but he was great at pretending to be everything I needed. He’d tell me that without him, I would never succeed or be anything more than a bum bitch, then shower me with affection, telling me that I meant the world to him. As much as I was addicted to Oxy, I was addicted to him and craved his approval. Black would gaslight me, control me, and then show love, backing me into a corner, blaming myself for being inadequate. Then I’d be desperate to win back his love and attention. I was so bonded with him and my emotions, that I continued to come back every time. Black was a narcissist, and I was co-dependent, plagued with the need to be with him, to the point I felt like I would die without him, so I might as well die with him. It took me two years, 6 months, and 5 days to realize how much my life was worth, and that he did not value it in the least.