As most of you know I have a very small house; storage is nonexistent. I have been trying to clear out stuff I don’t need.
Just before Christmas I went through my clothes and today I started on my receipts and paperwork.
Right on top of one of the boxes were all my journals going back to 2007. (anything prior to 2007 was destroyed by JC.)
I picked up my journal from 2009 and started reading, JC and I had just gotten back together, I had to move out of my trailer, JC had asked me to marry him. He had told me I was all the woman he would ever need, he would never be with another woman. In the month of January alone he asked me to marry him twice and promised me total honesty 3 times. But I knew something was not right.
In February I got a bladder infection both times he was home and we had sex. I called him and calmly asked if he had slept with anyone else, even while we were broken up and he swore he hadn’t been with anyone but the one woman in Africa. ( In Sept I found his journals and read what he wrote in Feb. And the other woman he had been seeing in Red Deer had called the same day and asked him if he had been having sex with anyone else because she had a bladder infection.) He wrote, “Carrie and Marita both called today and they both have a bladder infection , I wonder how that happened”.
I also recorded how much money I made everyday. Anywhere from a couple hundred to over $1000 one day. Usually between $300 and $500 a day. I sure loved that job. 2009 was a good year for making money and at times I was very happy and so hopeful about the future. I was so in love with JC.
Well, after reading February I closed the journal, bagged up all my journals and burned them.
They are of no use to me now.
I used to keep them to remind myself of how things were if I ever felt weak, but at times they worked against me. I would see how emotional I was, how crazy I would get when I would try to call him and he wouldn’t answer all day. Or he would send me a quick text message saying he would call me right back and then nothing. I knew he was with someone because when he was with me his phone would ring and he wouldn’t answer but then text someone.
I think I kept the journals just because it was all I had of him. I have no pictures, no gifts lol, a couple of letters where he blames me for everything and that’s all.
I did the final discard tonight. It was surprisingly hard to do. Its not that I thought I would ever go back, they certainly didn’t make me happy to read them. I guess it might be because they chronicled the most painful part of my life. They represent the most life altering events of my life. I can’t tell you how many times I have read those journals looking for answers. Like I kept missing something that would put a nice little bow on those years and make it possible for me to accept it all and be able to move on.
But there are no answers beyond the fact that he is disabled and never meant any of the promises he made.
I think some times I kept them because sometimes when I write about things he did I question myself (not so much any more) but the first couple of years I used to think maybe I was making it all up. Maybe I was imagining it all and really was crazy. At those times I could go back and read my journals to reassure myself that in deed it happened like I remembered.
I don’t have the self doubt I used to.
I don’t have the storage room to hang onto them, not in my house nor in my heart.
There is life and light after the narcissist, I promise! Hugs Carrie