Summary

The text describes a toxic relationship where the narrator is trapped in a cycle of self-gaslighting and emotional abuse, continually hoping for change despite consistent mistreatment.

Abstract

The narrative delves into the personal turmoil of someone caught in a pattern of self-deception and emotional manipulation within a relationship. The individual experiences anxiety and self-doubt, questioning their self-worth and actions while their partner engages in abusive behavior, including infidelity and emotional torment. Despite recognizing the abuse, the narrator struggles with internalizing the blame and convincing themselves they can improve the relationship, only to be met with further deceit and betrayal. The partner's repeated promises of change and declarations of love serve as a smokescreen for continued abuse, leaving the narrator in a state of confusion and emotional distress. The text underscores the damaging effects of self-gaslighting, where the victim's desire for love and belief in the abuser's potential for change perpetuates a cycle of abuse and self-blame.

Opinions

The narrator acknowledges the pattern of abuse but continually gaslights themselves into believing they are at fault and can somehow rectify the situation.
There is a deep-seated belief that the partner's love is attainable if only they can be more understanding and a better partner, despite evidence to the contrary.
The partner is portrayed as a serial abuser who manipulates and deceives, using love and affection as a lure while taking pleasure in the pain they inflict.
The narrator feels that they have been reduced to just another number in the partner's life, interchangeable and easily replaced.
The text suggests that the partner's actions are a reflection of their own internal emptiness and inability to be alone, projecting their issues onto the narrator.
The narrator expresses a mix of sadness and disbelief at the partner's ability to portray a life of love and purity while simultaneously engaging in abusive behavior.
The cycle of abuse and self-gaslighting is perpetuated by the narrator's hope for change and their tendency to rationalize the partner's actions, which ultimately leads to further emotional turmoil.

How Gaslighting Yourself is The Most Dangerous Form of Emotional Abuse

The most damaging part? The majority that experiences it isn’t aware they are doing it.

The doorbell rings! I get nervous, is it him!? Who is it? I know! It’s the guy you put before me the last time!

You know, the one old enough to be your father, but you dub him your “one!”

Just like I was in the beginning!

But wait, it’s not him, but it is flowers from him begging for forgiveness! This feels all too familiar to me. What is he sorry for? I’m sure I know, but I will let you tell me.

You reassured me we are taking things “slow,” and we will be ok. I knew in my gut there was someone else; there always was. You can’t be alone, and neither can I.

But my obsession is you, and your obsession is anyone “new.”

You love to throw in my face one fling I had while trying to forget the torment I allowed from you for four years, but it is nothing more than a justification and minimization of the abuse you dish out, and you can't accept.

We were broke-up; you didn’t want me, and heavens forbid a girl came along and gave me a little attention I didn’t get from you. She made me feel important, so I fell for it. Little did I know she was another you, just disguised a little better.

I have a subtle way of flipping all this on myself thinking I need to do better. I need to be more understanding. I need to be a better boyfriend. What I’m doing is manipulating myself. I know what’s right and wrong, but I change my thoughts by gaslighting myself.

It must be painful knowing how all you want is love, then when you find someone to give it to, you hurt them and take pleasure in it simultaneously.

I’ve known that I didn’t matter to you for a while, but I won’t believe it. I was nothing more than a number. You promised the stars but delivered darkness. You tell me over and over and over again to just trust you; you want me “this time!”

But what about all the times before? Why didn’t you want me then?

And just as the other times you tell me I am the “one” again.

You tell me you need an “emotional time-out” when my truth becomes your reality. You can’t stomach the truth I spew, but I become the Picasso with words when I am pressed and feel hurt emotionally. I lower my guard and unleash with a fury. Then the guilt takes over and I want to apologize for reacting to emotional torture.

You have searched and searched but have found no one else to put up with your repeated abuse but me.

I am the winner, right?

Do I get the prize?

You tell me I gaslight you to try and throw me off. Maybe you don’t even realize you are gaslighting; I’m sure you don’t! At least, that is what I tell myself. I have to tell myself many things to avoid the reality I live.

I am not “the one”; I am “one” of the many you rotate through your life. One that puts up with the most vicious forms of emotional abuse possible, that’s me! And you bring the worst out of me, not the best.

I tell myself, not this time, I deserve better, and I believe it on a superficial level. Probably the same level you do as you write about a life of purity but abuse anyone that tries to love you in life.

Why do you do that?

Why do you treat people like numbers while you run around and act as if you are the one being abused while you are dishing out the abuse in raw form? What feeling does that give you knowing you pull someone in with lies, only waiting to destroy them with the truth?

How do you do that?

How do you sleep at night?

As I sit here looking at the flowers just delivered from another guy in “the chase,” I can’t help but feel sadness for you. I’m not sure how you operate anymore; I don’t know what to believe. But the reality is I do know what to believe, and what I choose is different.

I love to gaslight myself into believing it will be different this time; it’s what keeps me stuck and craving an illusion that doesn’t exist. You showed me many times, so many I have lost count.

I choose to believe a person that has never had my best interest but has had the interest of others while not giving two fucks about me. A person that would lie to me repeatedly for her own selfish benefit.

The chase, oh the chase, you love it. It doesn’t matter who it is as long as they fill that empty void in you that you run from daily. As long as they take your misery away, you will gladly pass it on to someone else. Just like a game of hot potato, right?

It’s a game where the last one holding the potato gets you. They get you telling them more lies with empty promises while you portray a life of love when you dish nothing out other than abuse.

Abuse=love to you.

I don’t understand you. Maybe it’s better that way.

I tried.

I’ll never understand you, and I honestly believe neither will you.