Ten years ago, I put everything I owned on my flat deck and drove away from the hell hole I had shared with my ex, with my little buddy, Kato, riding shot gun.
I was able to pull enough money together to insure my truck for one day. My ex had all but destroyed my truck but I was able to limp it to my friend’s trailer. She had arranged for me to stay in her neighbor’s trailer while he was working in Alberta. I had an almost full pack of smokes and $5 and as I drove away I felt defeated, empty and hopeless. I wasn’t filled with anger, fear or sadness; just numb, emotionless, no hate, no hope.
I pulled in the driveway and she came out of the trailer and stood in the driveway. I got out of my truck and she said, “I owe you an apology. Its alot worse than I thought.”
I asked what she meant and she said, “It’s probably best if you just go in and look for yourself. I’ll be in my trailer if you want to talk.”
I walked through the door and felt like someone punch me in the guts. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was worse than any crack house I’d ever seen. There was shit piled every where, pizza boxes with rock hard pizza still inside, pots with food past the point of decay sat on the counter. Tobacco brown streaks ran down the walls, the roof had leaked and the insulation and wiring hung from the ceiling, there was a dim single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. I wove myself through the piles of garbage, it was dank, depressing, and defeating.
What the hell was I going to do? I couldn’t live there! Where was I going to go? Just turn around and go back to my ex? Maybe I could get back there before he even got home from work and he wouldn’t know I ever left.
I went over to my friend’s trailer, she looked stricken, “I am so sorry. I really didn’t know it was that bad. What are you going to do?”
I was numb, it had taken everything I had to load up my stuff and drive there, I couldn’t go back. I couldn’t give my ex the satisfaction. I had enough pride left or maybe was just too tired; to turn around and go back. I wanted to sleep, I couldn’t make any decisions.
So I chose to stay the night and see how I felt in the morning. Kato and I went back to the trailer. I knew he needed to eat. He was my faithful little buddy, where ever I was, he was by my side. I didn’t want him catching something off the couch or carpets, so I threw a blanket over the couch, sat down and patted the spot beside me. He jumped up and laid his head on my lap. A year ran down my cheek and landed on his head. He looked up at me, questioning me with his eyes. “It’s ok Pook-a-roo, we’ll be ok.” He put his head back down on my lap and I leaned against his body. I didn’t take my coat or boots off, too afraid of what might crawl on us as we slept.
I woke up a few hours later with a kink in my neck and a hole in my heart. I weighed my options:
I knew I couldn’t go back, I knew if I went crawling back my ex would make my life hell, worse than ever, it was November and only going to get colder, I couldn’t sleep in my truck, I had no money. I took a better look at the trailer in the light of day, opened the curtains and walked from room to room. It made my skin crawl. The bathroom made me gag. The floor was peeling up around the edges, around the toilet was urine stained and peppered with cigarette burn marks. The whole house was full of garbage, I was surprised I didn’t see any sign of rats, yet.
I was able to make a few bucks and bought cleaning supplies, 6 pairs of rubber gloves, and a scrub brush. For the next 2 days I worked nonstop cleaning. I wore 2 pairs of rubber gloves one inside the other and spent 6 hours cleaning the bathroom.
I did a whole post on this years ago with a bunch of pictures, before and after, so won’t go into it now.
I thought I wanted to die, I thought I couldn’t survive. I sat for days staring into space. I had to remind myself to blink, breath. I even thought maybe I could just forget to breath and die.
Every single day I thought,”I can’t do this one more day”. But I would get through the day, wake up the next morning, and do it again. For 722 days, then someone called me strong. And I looked at it through a different lens. I thought I was weak but I made it through all those days, and I became a survivor, not a victim any more.
The secret to healing and moving on is to change your mindset; instead of playing the victim, where he controls your pain, happiness, and self worth, think of yourself as a survivor, no longer controlled by the narcissist.
Believe it or not, I lived in way worse places than this place. Mainly because I didn’t go no contact and my ex continued to destroy me. Even when I went no contact I didn’t hide well enough and he found me and did everything he could to destroy me, for 5 yrs.
I look back now and can’t believe I ever loved him or thought I couldn’t live without him. You may not think you can either or that you need another man to get you through this. All you need is you. Take this time to get to know the real you and live true to that person. That is all any of us need. Love to you all. ❤️