I want to spit him out of me. Bear with me as I heave this blog post up, please. I have never written anything this bitter because I have never felt this way before in my life. I feel like I’ve swallowed slow-acting poison: his love is poison, and I want to spit him out of me.
Note: metaphors that touch on self-harm, vomit, blood.
The bile of him inside my body, it won’t leave. I have tried and tried to get rid of it but it keeps roaring up in great waves. He did what he did around this time last year, and I will never be able to forget the exact day.
I found out in November.
The gaping chasm between those two dates still makes me queasy. Like my body is trying to purge itself of him.
Some days I dwell on the things he said and did with me in those intervening months, unpicking every moment I thought was good, but which turned out to be causing me irreparable damage. Each day that passed, I swallowed another drop of poison without knowing it.
He’s broken things inside me that I don’t know how to fix: I want to carve him from my brain.
Mostly I try not to think about it. When I look for old photos on my phone, I close my eyes if I have to scroll past the months that threaten to show me his face.
I still obsess over him, though. Check his social media occasionally and get a cheap, pathetic thrill when I see him looking rough or posting something cringe. And then, of course, I obsess over the shame of still being obsessed with him. But that’s poison for you, I guess. It has leaked into every cell of my body.
So then I try to distract myself. My life has become a constant stream of distractions now, they pile higher and higher until my calendar looks crowded and mad. It doesn’t work. This is always in the background: a deep emotional nausea. I try to swallow it down. It bubbles back up. Again and again.
Occasionally I allow myself to dwell on the thoughts, heaving them up in the hope that doing so might work like two fingers down my throat: if my heart retches hard enough for long enough, can I vomit him out?
Please?
He was inside me. Many, many times afterwards. He laid with me in bed, put his trembling hands on my flesh and a part of his body in mine. Often within minutes of saying things that made me question my self and my sanity, he touched my skin and told me he loved me.
I want to scour myself in acid.
He used to cross-examine me about my behaviour, I never told you that. He treated me like a liar, interrogated me as if I – compulsively honest to the point where it gets me into trouble – was secretly deceptive. I extended as much understanding as I could because he had trauma, so he said, that caused him to be this way. I worked so hard to reassure him and temper his suspicion… even as he was lying to me.
I want to burn him out of me. Swallow hot coals to scourge out the poison.
I have never in my life felt this way, and I don’t know how to make it stop. I have tried so many things to get these thoughts to stop.
When I give blood these days, I think about him. I imagine that I’m draining him from my system. Letting buckets flow out until not a single drop remains. But when I stand up to leave only a pint is gone and he’s still in there, sloshing round in my veins. In my thoughts, and my heart, and deep inside my body where he put a part of his body and oh God fuck forgive me for this but I really really really need to spit him the fuck out.
I wrote about him, after he did this. So many posts! Some of my best work! I painstakingly documented the love I felt for the man I thought he was. I let it run through my soul and into my fingertips and out onto the page.
He knew it was a lie. And he let me do it anyway.
He basked in my very public affection, let my love flow onto the page and into his ears and out through his cock and into my fucking body.
I want to pour bleach over every memory of him. Spray acid inside myself and feel the delicious twist of new-formed scars.
Forgive me for writing this but I have to spit him out. He knew my love was a lie and he let me write it anyway so give me a second, please, to vomit up a tiny bit of truth.
If he had just told me what he’d done and said sorry, I might have been able to cling on. Get over it. Move on from him long ago. He’d have just been some dickhead who did a bad thing. At best tawdry, at worst spiteful, but contained. Understandable. Forgivable.
But afterwards… for months… he fucked me… he told me he loved me. He asked me to marry him.
The woman to whom he had done this, whose sanity was slowly being eroded in service of maintaining the lie… he repeatedly asked her to become his wife.
He tried to move himself into my flat, I haven’t told you that either. He put pressure on me: nudged and cajoled and guilt-tripped until I started to wonder if my rational caution was unreasonable. Suspicious and unkind. And – shame on me, so much shame, good God – I folded. I agreed. I was making preparations.
I might wake up each day retching on the horror of him, but that is at least tempered by the soaring relief that I found out who he was before I let him move into my home.
I can still feel him inside my body, though.
I want to spit him out, burn him out, cut him out. Bleed out every drop: his love is poison.
Forgive me, please, for publishing this. If you’ve been reading for any length of time you’ll know that it’s extremely unlike me to speak this way about past lovers. I want to write about them with kindness, even the ones who hurt me. And if I don’t have anything helpful to say I try to shut my mouth.
But I can’t do that, not with this one, I promise I’ve tried. I’ve spent months and months trying to do anything other than this. Walking and cycling for miles and miles and miles. Taking on new work, new projects. Distracting myself, going to therapy, harming myself in various unproductive ways. Doing everything I can conceive of other than sit down and write this.
I’ve failed.
I am sorry.
I am human.
Hurt people hurt people, and broken people don’t work the way they usually do.
I do not work, because he broke me. Or at least broke something inside me. Trust? Hope? Optimism? The joy that used to power me is gone, and in its place is just gallons of this bitter, bitter poison.
He knew who I am and what I do, and he was happy to let me do it in service to a lie. But he also knew (he’s not stupid) that I care about the truth. So he had to have known that it was possible I’d acknowledge, here on the blog, the horror which has infected me. He took that risk: he made a choice. Why am I shouldering the responsibility to protect him from that? How can I possibly carry it when I am this fucked up?
The things he said and did made me suspect I was mad, and they worked! I believe it! I am mad. Batshit, raving, write-a-blogpost-about-cutting-him-out-of-me insane.
I’ve tried to cure this but the poison doesn’t just remain, it spreads. With every day that passes the bile rises and the urge grows to just spit and spit and spit until he’s out. Vomit him up. Burn him from inside me. Carve him out of my brain. Cut deep into my flesh and let every drop of him pour forth until nothing is left.
I have never felt like this before. I’ve been hurt in many different ways by many different men, but the pain and rage and sickness has never felt impossible to escape.
So in lieu of puking and cutting and burning, I thought I’d try writing him out.
There.
*spits*
Four things:
1. What my ex did was not illegal. In the interests of fairness I’ll tell you that there are other people in this story who contributed to how thoroughly it wrecked my mental health. I’ll tell you about it one day, I am sure, though it won’t be the full story because I don’t think I’ll ever know exactly what happened. And that is fucking me up significantly too.
2. I don’t wish him harm, and if you do harm to him you don’t do it in my name. I don’t want ‘revenge’, or to name him or hurt him, I just don’t want to keep choking on these feelings.
3. He told me he doesn’t read the blog any more, so if that was a lie that’s on him.
4. I don’t need advice, and I’m not posting this for sympathy. My best guess as to why I want to publish is that writing it made me feel a little better. I suspect this poison has spread at least in part because I’ve been gagging it down to avoid looking bitter on the blog, or feeling like I’m whining or being unfair. I figured I’d try to push those thoughts aside and focus instead on how useful it will be for me to spit this out, and maybe for others who have felt this way too.
42 Comments
I know you are not asking for sympathy, so let me say something else: I found your blog about two weeks ago, and your “Unsolicited Advice” section has had a profound impact on my life. It helped me get over some shit, reignited my motivation to start meeting people and dating again, and allowed me to get into a much better headspace for it. I’ve been online dating for a week now, and what used to be a source of annoyance, shame and doubt is now something I can approach in a healthy way, with a much clearer idea of what I want. Especially your post on the “Dating Funnel” has opened my eyes to the misconceptions I had in my mental model for how dating works. (Yes, I was a bit of a tosspot, as you might say)
I am deeply thankful for your writing. Please know that you have had an extremely positive impact on my life, and that you are already one of four internet strangers who I owe a lot to (with the other three being Captain Awkward and Jenn and Trin from Friendshipping, may that podcast rest in peace). Your writing matters, and is just the combination of insightful, hilarious and clear that I needed right now. From the bottom of my heart: thank you. I am sending you warm thoughts (and money on Patreon ;).
Ohhh this is really lovely to hear, thank you Max. It’s a massive boost to hear that my writing has helped people learn more about themselves and explore new paths – means a lot, and I really appreciate you taking the time to tell me that! Best of luck with your dating adventures, and hats off to you for spotting that you needed some guidance and approaching stuff in a more healthy way! It’s not always easy, but we should always give ourselves credit for doing it when we can! x
I also understand you’re not looking for sympathy or advice, but just writing to say: I don’t think you have any reason to apologise for this post. Maybe it’s not what some of your readers are here for, but you clearly needed to write it. And I don’t see how it impacts on the guy it’s about, since you haven’t actually named him. (Rightly!)
Even without having all the details and only having your ‘side of the story’, you were clearly deeply wronged here, and gaslit about it. I’m just glad you found out the truth before it was too late.
Thank you SCS, I trust your judgment and I really appreciate that. And yes, agreed: finding out the truth before it was too late was a huge and powerful thing. I am grateful to the people who told me.
Dear GOTN, I’m so glad you’ve written what you needed to write, and I hope with every fibre of my being that it helps you begin to heal.
You know about kintsugi right? The gold you use for your repair and healing makes you more beautiful.
Ah thank you Mermaid. And yes, I know kintsugi! Stuart drew a gorgeous kintsugi image a while back for a piece about heartbreak: https://www.girlonthenet.com/blog/new-heartbreak/ I’d love to be able to turn this into gold, but honestly I do worry a bit that if you repair enough cracks – no matter what the substance – the end product is going to be too fragile for anything other than the dustbin. Miserable of me to say this, I know, but this really has shattered me. I’ll get there, and I’m working very hard on becoming OK again, but yeah. Doing my best innit. Thank you for your kind words x
GOTN, we are here to share in your story, not just the horny bits, and some of us have been here for long enough that even though you don’t really know us, we feel betrayed along with you.
I think I have said before, and it’s a sad thing, but heartbreak supercharges your usually excellent writing into moving and powerful art.
Be safe and hang on, and we will still be here to cheer you on when life is better. x
Thank you so much Pointy <3 I massively appreciate the kind words about my writing. Through the darkness, there is always... my thirsty desire to be told I am good at what I do =) Truly appreciate it, thanks xxx
Knowing nothing about what happened here, I just want to say I admire how you can write so insightfully and levelly even about heartbreak and betrayal. Literally, just awed thinking about how hard this must have been to write honestly. I can only wish you the best for the healing process
That is so kind of you to say, thank you. And yeah this one took a lot of drafting and redrafting =) Always lovely to hear kind words about my work even when (especially when?) it’s dark, so thank you xxx
Oh, one more thing, only tangentially relevant: thanks for including the ‘give blood’ link above. I’ve been meaning to get back into blood donating for years, but with typical executive dysfunction, never got round to actually doing it. I guess all I needed was that link to prompt me into making an appointment, because I’ve just done that. If it was an affiliate link, you earned it. :)
Ahhh nice one! Thank you for helping <3 I don't get any affiliate money from them (lol) I just try to nudge ppl to give blood where I can because three of the people I love most in the whole world wouldn't be here if it weren't for blood transfusions. It's a powerful and brilliant thing to do if you're eligible, so thank you for doing it for the next person who needs it!
Hard to know what to write in response to such a profoundly personal piece of writing, except to say that using your gift to express it is, I believe, the most positive way of acknowledging but also exorcising the hurt. This took guts to write, and I’m in awe.
I don’t know, don’t need to know, what this person did to hurt you, but I do know something about the eviscerating pain which can come from a bad relationship or, worse, a relationship which you thought was good, but…
I started posting on the net and, subsequently, writing to try to put my self-esteem back together after an abusive and coercively controlling relationship. The black dog – cunt that it is – still shows up now and again, but I have pretty much got the measure of it, I think.
This will sound like some pseudo-spiritual woo-woo bullshit, but I truly believe that by enduring, your scars change from red wounds to golden adornments that signify what a stunningly badass bitch you are.
I know. That did sound like pseudo-spiritual woo-woo BS, didn’t it? Sending love. Jx
Oh Jaimie, I am so so sorry that happened to you. It’s an awful thing to have to pick up the pieces and try to put them back together after that kind of abuse, and I am so glad that you’re feeling a bit more on top of it. I totally understand the scars turning to gold thing too. I think at the moment I’m just feeling like ‘argh, we shouldn’t have to though’ – my life is full of amazing people who have been broken, and the person they were before they were broken was *already* gold. Power and strength can fix things beautifully, of course, but I believe arseholes shouldn’t barge through other’s lives like a bull in a china shop inflicting this damage in the first place. It doesn’t sound like woo-woo BS though – totally understandable. And I hope it helps you to heal. Love to you too xxx
We hear you. Thanks for the honesty. And the insanely great writing.
Thank you so much <3
Another internet stranger here who values your writing very much. I know that I do not know YOU, but I hope that those who do are giving you all of the support you need. I am very sure that there are many others reading your words who feel the same way. Thank you for trusting us with this.
Thank you so much Bitsy! <3
I heard you.
Do this process with your ex and you will feel really better. You can do this with all people you feel like you described in your sharing.
https://youtu.be/R5Wc2MRa6m4?si=vI_hosNeBo4N5O0y
Warm love
Thank you for the love, I appreciate that. And I know you’re trying to be kind but I’m afraid if this could be fixed by a short visualisation exercise I’d probably have knocked it on the head by now. This is partly why I explicitly ask people not to give me advice. I know people want to help, and that’s a lovely sentiment, but unfortunately helping when you only know a small part of the story is never going to have the effect that you want. All the best though.
Brilliant writing.
Thanks
Thank you <3
Good lord, I hear you!
The toxic ones run through your veins and it’s hard to get closure on people like that – I think in part because of them, but also because of you (how did I fall for that? why did I fall for that? etc.)
I’ve never been a fake it until you make it kind of person. I can distract myself just fine from things I should be doing (e.g. watching YouTube instead of folding clothes) but I can’t distract myself from my emotions. I think for me, if I try to keep busy by doing things I love, it taints the things I love – I don’t find joy in them because I’m not feeling joyful.
My “moment” came when I’d drunkenly text him, seeking the closure I felt I needed, and he sent a rambling text back with a “Sad.” in it (think Trump from years ago). I laughed, for days afterwards even, and I knew the toxic was leaving me
“how did I fall for that? why did I fall for that? ” OMG yes this. There are so very many little moments – things said and done (by him and others) that now take on a very different light when I remember. So many little things that I persuaded myself to ignore, especially when told I was being silly/paranoid/etc. It feels excruciating, and the thought of ever trusting anyone again makes me feel beyond stupid. Obviously I don’t just want to shut down but I find myself repulsed by so many things that I would previously have embraced – any new relationship/date/friendship is now seen through this lens and I don’t know hw to push it aside.
I am so glad that the toxic is leaving you, and I really appreciate you sharing – thank you so much LM, and I hope your life is filled with far better people now <3
A longtime friend whom I occasionally fucked and whom I fancied also turned out to have lied to me for like two years. I cut ties with him when he refused to show me his new flat and blocked my phone number on his landline. Then he called me after months to tell me the truth, that he had a girlfriend this whole time and he never told me. Nor did he tell her about me. And honestly, I didn’t need to know that. I would have been content never knowing that. It wasn’t as much gaslighting as your post suggests happened to you (though of course liars will always try to make you feel unreasonable) but I remember waking up and the few blissful moments when I didn’t remember what happened. I was also obsessed. It just fucked me up being lied to and I kept asking myself why I didn’t see it (sooner). I just wanted to share this because I remember so well how I felt like crap. I hope you will get over this horrible experience and feel nothing but indifference for this guy in time.
Love,
Aimée
That is absolutely appalling, I am so sorry that he did that to you. And incensed, too. What a horrific, morally repulsive person. This feeling: “I remember waking up and the few blissful moments when I didn’t remember what happened.” is absolutely it – I get that often too. The brief relief then sudden rush of remembering. Thank you so much for commenting, it is good to know that this might end at some point and I really appreciate you sharing <3
“Well,” the Goddess said, “your heart didn’t heal straight the last time it broke. So we’ll break it again and reset it so it heals straight this time.” — Diane Duane, _The Door into Shadow_
I understand the sentiment and I know you mean well, fuzzy, but honestly right now I would love to just stop getting broken in the first place. I don’t want to have to keep getting cracked/shattered by selfish, shitty men. I want someone who treats me like I’m fragile and precious and avoids causing me this harm. I don’t think that’s too much to ask, but it apparently has been so far.
I’m not going to try to post some nugget of wisdom to make everything magically better as I know I can’t – I’ll just say incredible writing as always, and fuck me Stuart’s artwork is always so beautiful and absolutely perfect.
His art really is amazing, isn’t it? I am so lucky to get to work with him.
GOTN, I’m so sorry. You of all people don’t deserve this. All the worse because he seemed so great in the beginning. The feeling of rug-pulled-out-from-under-one tht comes with trusting someone who wasn’t who you thought, who lets you down in ways that wouldn’t be possible if they didn’t have access to your whole self…the sickness and self blame and self doubt is all horribly familiar. I’m also guilty of mangling myself horribly while trying to protect people who would do nothing at all to protect me, out of loving them more than I loved myself. I don’t know how to get the poison out and I’m just so sorry this is happening to you. I think it will fade in time, you deserve that. He sure as fuck doesn’t deserve your protection or for you to hurt yourself further holding any of this in.
Us long term readers feel your betrayal now, exactly because you are so generous in sharing all the ups and downs and thrills and spills if being someone that feels so hard. We remember the excitement you shared when you met this unworthy dickhead. You don’t have to apologise to us for saying whatever you need to say, on whatever timescale you need to say it. I don’t know how to say it in a way that doesn’t sound too weirdly para social – be assured its ok, I know we’re not friends – but your humanity is what brings us all here, and your humanity is allowed to use this space to express hurt. We’re with you, for whatever that’s worth; we’ve got space here for whatever you are on any given day, we’ve got time for this.
May you receive all the love, care and gentle handling that you extend to others, and may the poison leave you x
Ohh thank you so much Corvix, this is such a lovely thing to read. And I am so sorry that so much of this is familiar to you. I wish I could recapture a little of the optimism about people that I had in my youth because so much of my adult life has been a lesson in not having faith that people can be gentle and kind to each other.
I really appreciate your kindness, thank you <3
I’m sorry for your pain. This might be the best thing you’ve ever written. It’s utterly sublime.
Blimey, thank you so much! I genuinely didn’t think this one was that good so I’m pleased people think it is!
Thank you for this incredible piece of writing. It’s helping me a lot. I was used and deceived by a woman I loved (and foolishly still love) who took advantage of that. She then dumped me, continued to lead me on, then dumped me again.
I still love her but I also hate her. Damn my weakness. Ironically, in our sex life she was easily the best – submissive and willing to give herself to whatever I wanted.
The joke is on me.
But your writing has helped me. Thank you.
I’m so sorry you’ve been hurt too, I hope that you can heal and move towards a more positive future for yourself <3 x
Thank you for sharing even though you don’t think it’s what your readers want. I suspect that what we want is what you want to talk about (I’ve been subscribed for over a decade).
Re you worrying that you might be too broken, there is always repair we can do. We aren’t solid structures, we are flexible and strong. We might tear, but we can repair and re stretch. You are more than capable of getting past this, you just need time, some effort, and a lot more kindness to yourself.
Yes I do speak from experience, mine was probably a bit more traditional weak man (making casual assumptions here) but similar notes and effects. We are different people, but for years I’ve taken your stories and used them to guide my own healing. You already have and are everything that you need.
Thank you so much for commenting, Charlotte <3 And I really appreciate your solidarity and kind words. You're right that there's repair that can be done. At the moment I'm wallowing in bitterness that says 'I shouldn't HAVE to repair myself once again just because a man was awful' but yeah, I definitely get it. And I'll get there. Thank you for helping me along the way <3
I don’t comment much, but I’ve read your stuff since 2014 and I’m so sorry this man has had such power over you. I relate. And I hope you can spit him out soon. Thank you for writing this. Mwah
There’s a lot of pain, and I deeply appreciate that you can be honest about that, and write about joy as well.
Thank you for writing this, for pouring it out in a way that we can feel. Over the last 20 months, I have been hurt so very deeply by two people who I trusted. Up until the second one happened a few months ago, I always loved easily but trust was harder. These people had my trust and now I cannot imagine ever letting someone else in again. I don’t have the bravery to write about it and so I am still trying to rid my veins of the poison. I hope that this piece and the love which you are held in is a support to you.
Thank you. As someone who recently came to terms (or maybe admitted to myself) that I was abused by an ex-lover you articulate what I cannot. Your writing is the most comforting thing I have read. Some days I doubt myself, but not when I’m on your blog.