First of all, things have been great as far as the "no contact". Not a peep either directly, indirectly, or via the internet. No weird strangers contacting me (who know absolutely nothing about me) asking me to comment on something my donors have said. No pleas from "family members" via third parties to put myself out there and make myself vulnerable so their buddies (my donor(s)) feel good (it's never any concern about me).
Then I was thinking of the poems I used to write my pets when they died. I thought about this, because it linked to the more recent posts to "family members" dying, and that made me think of other grief. Then I thought why didn't I write poems for Mustache, Leon, Jackie, Stormy, and Jazz. And this made me immediately think of something my NM blogged about how I apparently like to write sappy poems.
I did not even realize this was subconsciously affecting me. Granted I am no artist with words, I know that. This is not why I wrote these memorials to my pets (and a couple of love poems to my husband). It was to somehow represent something that I was feeling inside in that moment. Because NM could not accept that I was no longer her victim, she needed to take a mean spirited shot at me. And I knew that, but thought at the time this would never affect me.
Now I wonder where those poems are and if they have been saved. It's like that day that side of me just shut down for someone I had decided some time ago was not worth my while. Certainly not worth these examples of emotional abuse that was her side of our relationship!
Others have said it's not that ONE thing. It's the constant barrage of things. I for one am so glad that barrage has stopped, so I can continue to get my feet under me and reclaim myself. I love the way those goofy poems make me feel now, remembering how I felt then. So now I will be working on memorials to my other lost pets.
Try not to let people diminish those parts of you. It's hard because sometimes you do not know it happened until much much later, as it happens subconsciously.