I had another nightmare about my ex the other night. It was so bad that when I screamed the word no, I woke myself up. I crawled out of bed, lit a cigarette, and went into the bathroom. I sat there trying to gather my senses, shaking a little bit. I had to remind myself that I was safe.

That he couldn’t hurt me anymore.

I wish that these nightmares would go away, seriously. He doesn’t belong in my head. He doesn’t belong anywhere near me. The only thing he is to me now is a sperm donor, for without him I wouldn’t have my beautiful daughter.

I never loved him. I said it back to him when he said it, but it was just to appease him. How can you love someone who calls you a lazy bitch, and tells you to shut the fuck up when you have the nerve to offer an opinion about something?


He might have said the words, but to him I was only a possession, someone he could control, and beat when he felt the need to be an alpha-male.

I need to bring him up during therapy, but I am afraid to talk about him too much for fear of more nightmares. Yet if I don’t, he will continue to haunt my dreams.

My friend Cheryl and I are going to celebrate next year, on February 17th, the 15th anniversary of when I left him. Freedom Day, she called it.

Who knows, I might even get shitfaced.