Ayase Leilani's Blog

Like most people who have suffered from abusive partners, I have found that moving on from my ex has been one of the most traumatic of events in my life:  it has lasted a long time, has destroyed parts of my soul that were previously healthy, re-opened wounds from past abuses that had previously closed and destroyed my ability to function normally; these days, I’ve developed PTSD and other severe mental conditions that have made it impossible for me to stay alive without a great deal of daily assistance from my caretaker and fiancée.

This has made living the life I used to live completely impossible; I am a ruined person.

And how did this happen?

It all began when my ex welcomed me into her life, lying and love-bombing me as I noted in Part I and Part II of my series about my time with her.  She lied to me about her own feelings; in all of our time together, all she showed me was a personality mask hiding the true monster inside of her.

It was this mask that I fell in love with; I never knew who the real person behind her mask was until it was too late.  And her deceptions worked like a charm, suckering me in and leading me to believe I was dating a truly wonderful person.  She knew precisely how to play me and she did so with a level of proficiency that still scares the absolute shit out of me to this day; I am not immune to the charms of the worst of people in this world who would do their best to play their game with me.

The truth was that she never truly felt true love for me and constantly projected her own paranoias and abusive behaviour onto me.  She continues to do all of these things to this day, openly admitting to many of her own friends–and the people from my life who ultimately sided with her–that she lied to me throughout all our time together out of her own paranoia.

It was all of the lies she spreads to this day, along with all the lies she told me throughout our relationship that started this process.  This was mixed strongly in alongside how–during our time together–she coaxed some of the most intimate parts of me to the surface only to actively destroy them all out of some sick desire to ruin everything she touches.

In the wake of the break-up, she has stolen some of my dearest friends from me and convinced them to believe I am a horrible person with her lies.  She has gone out of her way to paint me in the worst of lights and has developed paranoid delusions about things I would never–in a million years–think of doing.

She got inside my head.  She made me think terrible things about myself. For almost all of last Summer, I honestly believed I was the horrible person she said I was.  The things she accused me of would have required a sociopathy on my behalf that I am completely incapable of, especially since I am both self-aware and full of guilt complexes that often make me take responsibility for things that I’ve had no part in; I’ve struggled my whole life with believing that I am the reason everyone in my life is so miserable…and she played this part of me with expertise beyond compare.

And this is what ultimately destroyed me beyond repair.

Of course, those who still decided to stay by my side and I all know by now what sort of person she truly was, but it took me the longest time to realise that she was absolutely full of shit.  And yet to this day, I still have dreams that keep me from feeling rested at night both of what she’s done to me…and of the fact that some part of me will never stop loving her, even though what I was in love with was nothing but a mask.  I am so fucked up by what she has done that I am still stuck on the love I had for this fake mask while–at the same time–being aware that the real person is an absolute demoness.

In the end, it’s been very difficult for me to continue carrying on with my life, but I–again–stress how important my caretaker and my fiancée have been to me in ensuring I don’t end up dying due to not being able to take care of myself or by suicide.  I will likely live the rest of my life broken like this…and I’ve slowly come to accept this reality, although as someone who used to pride herself on being strong and capable, it has been both very humbling and insanely difficult to accept this new reality of mine.

I am extremely lucky and blessed…and even though I still struggle to this day, I am grateful knowing that I have people in my life who can ensure I am still around and still able to live some sort of meaningful life.

My ex has caused me irreparable damage, but I am still alive and am still able to live a meaningful–albeit limited–life.  This is something that my ex failed to take away from me.  And for that, I am beyond grateful.