Banging Away

    

      One of his favorite types of torment once I was in the door, and I was going to change clothes; he would start asking me what I was doing (if it's a talking night).  It never ended there....
Sometimes he would sit and say, "Hi" to me over and over again.  I have no idea what this was about.  It could go on for as long as thirty minutes, sometimes longer and regardless of what I said he wouldn't stop.  When I refused to say hi back the fifty times he said it, I heard I'm a freak, I'm weird and he would either laugh or get annoyed.  He told me any normal person would say hi back.  Sometimes he was in this mode several times a night.  I suppose the point of that was, the focus had to be on him constantly.

     Sometime later in the evening he would close his computer, look at me and mumble in a disapproving tone that I ignored him.  The man who wouldn't respond to my questions, refused to acknowledge me and demanded foot rubs, insisted that I was paying no attention to him.  I reached a point that I typically indulged him in that fantasy towards the end.  It didn't matter what I did, it was never enough.  I was never good enough and I can't remember the last time I had done something right.  I'm not feeling sorry for myself only doubting my sanity in thinking he would want to change his behavior towards me or that he was capable of it period.  He refused change and only wanted me jumping through his imaginary hoops for the rest of my life. 

     If I didn't start rubbing his feet he would sometimes sit and bang into my legs with them deliberately, or make grunting noises mingled with a sound I can't describe.  That became the vocabulary for the evening, odd noises.  It wasn't a hard bang, more of an annoying tapping that never ended.  I was expected to interpret his mewing sounds as well as his expectations and be a mind reader to boot.  It was very annoying just as he intended it to be.  He wouldn't stop even though I would ask him to.

     This is the same man that outsiders think is charming, compassionate and caring.  I don't believe he cared how I felt.  As long as his life was running how he believed it should and he could torment me, he would stay in his miserably cruel and happy place.  He may have been able to see how I felt but acknowledgement and empathy escaped him completely.  This was entirely deliberate.  Anyone seeing us on the street or in a public setting would not believe he is capable of the mental cruelty he inflicts with pleasure.


Don't remain complicit!  RUN!