E was annoyingly upbeat. He laughed loudly, and obnoxiously. He was musical, and endlessly talked about his gift of singing. He sang over every song, and has ruined my appreciation of certain artists to this day. He was loud in his love for God, which on its own is great. But when the person is evil, and their love for Him is fake, it becomes a problem.

When I met him, I couldn’t stand him. That feeling never went away. Most people saw him for who he wanted them to see him as, generous, friendly, upright, trustworthy, God fearing. My gut told me not to trust him, that he was dangerous, but I had given up on myself and God by that point, so I didn’t listen.

E’s control over me happened little by little, over years. He started with subtle manipulation, like ‘forgetting’ his wallet, or crying over me if I was having a tough day emotionally. He would complain and make me feel guilty if I didn’t hang out with him when he wanted. E would offer me his shoulder to cry on, and then tell me that whatever was bothering me was my fault. He was telling me exactly what I was telling myself, so I believed every word.

My body was quitting on me, while I was with him. I was constantly sick to my stomach, had developed a rare sleeping disorder, and would constantly have new frightening symptoms, like uncontrollable whole body shaking for weeks at a time. Trauma takes a toll on us in very real, physical ways.

From the very beginning to the end, I was with E for around 9 years. In those 9 years, I never went to a doctor’s appointment by myself, it wasn’t allowed. My money was actually his money, according to him. His friends were the only friends I was allowed to have. My body was his. My life was owned by him. Most people thought we were happy, and in love. He was a good actor. Apparently, so was I.

To be continued….