the great fuck-this escape 🖕😐 (part two)

⚠️ trigger warning: this post contains graphic realities of domestic violence, psychological abuse, and covert sexual boundary violations.

if you’re here for soft edits and sanitized survival stories,
skip babe.

this is shitty.
this is gross.
this is what it actually looks like to crawl out.

read with care, or don’t. 🪓

✶

first off—
fucking sorry 🤢
i even have to say
this shit out loud.
it's psychologically
weird as fuck, 🤢
trust me,
i get it.
but if i don’t
say this shit,
it’ll literally
eat me alive
from the inside out,
rotting me slowly
until i’m just as gross
as the shit i survived.

so here it goes…

again, my bad. 🥀😑

alright,
yo.
getting my ass kicked
by my husband?
zero out of ten.
do not recommend. 👎🏻
not fucking optimal.
but at least with physical shit
it’s like tangible—
bruises,
scratches,
black eye,
whatever.
there’s like,
an internal clocking of it—
ya know?
the podcasts,
true crime docs,
the whole fucking thing.

but psychological abuse?
weird-ass covert sexual abuse?
pure fucking chaos.
pure hellscape. 👹
it’s gross.
and fucking confusing.
just permanent,
incoherent fucking
absolute mindfuckery.

so back to
my home-away-from-home
escape route:
𐕣 𖤐 𐕣
the childhood
house of torture.
destination: the east coast.
guess who’s waiting there?
my literal personal
childhood abuse goblin. 🥲🥀

lol yay.
whatever.

so babe—
i try rationalizing—
dude’s old as shit now.
seems slightly less awful,
recently-ish.
maybe he mellowed the fuck out?
(i had no other options,
to be fucking real.
i had to try.)

nah, girl.
fucking WRONG. 𐕣
because immediately
the weirdness began.

no doors were ever closed.
i mean fucking ever.
bedroom doors?
wide fucking open.
doorknob-to-wall open.
wanna grab clothes?
wanna use the bathroom?
full visual of this
grown-ass man lying in bed—
maybe clothed?
maybe covered?
no fucking warning,
no fucking boundary,
no fucking chill.
just immediate,
full-frontal fucking trauma.

this dude,
waited til my partner was asleep—
and i’d hear him
🤢🤢🤢🤢
loud as fuck,
literal feet from
my daughter and i…
just…
doing
whatever?
fucking…
going for it.
💫

childhood memories—
FUCKING ✨triggered✨
babe.

lol.

FUCK.
(!#!#&!&#YI!I#II@)
yes, i pushed back.
because—
wtf?????

///

speaking of toilets—
💩💩💩
he literally never
closed that door either. 💀
and not just upstairs.
nope,
tiny half-bathroom,
smack dab center of the fucking kitchen. 🤯
this man would literally
full-ass use the bathroom—
(!!!!!!!) 🤯
door ajar,
hand on wall,
sweats down,
full dick exposure—
(bro—
intentionally,
loudly,
making all the sounds)
while me and his
infant fucking granddaughter
(!!!)
sat right there.
just daily,
casual,
repulsiveness. 💀🚽

and when i finally
get fucking brave enough
to start to say something—
because,
hi,
new yet old trauma unlocked, 💫
and i'm not
a helpless fucking kid anymore—
i’m like:
“bro,
can you fucking not?
we literally
see your dick.
not cute,
real weird,
not okay,
fucking stop?”
but he doesn’t stop—
he made excuses,
said doors
“DIDN’T WORK”
said it’s his house
and then—
he escalates. 👺

constant covert boundary pushing:
it wasn't just
💫 accidental weirdness—
it was calculated,
incremental fuckery.
this man
strategically
blurred
every sexual perimeter,
carefully weaponizing
my confusion,
shame,
and fucking helplessness—
shoving me into some fucked-up
weird-ass
domestic caretaker
female fill-in role 🤮🤮🤮🤮
pushing until
the line between
abusive-sexual-exposure
and normalcy
became
non-fucking-existent.

so
anyway—
moving along
i’m so fucking confused 🤮
fucking trapped.
husband finally dips
(thank god?)
nah—
shit gets insane
suddenly bro…
this dude is in full
pseudo-abused-wife mode. 👰🏻‍♀️🫵🏻🤯
i’m cleaning everything—
floors,
bathrooms,
washing sheets,
towels,
clothing—
just him = three loads a fucking day
like i’m the
live-in maid
he never even wanted
but always got to abuse. 💫

bro—
i shit you not.
i saw my mom’s life
flash before my eyes.

🙏 🙏 🙏
[like for the love of god.
bring back the dude
with the fucking
repeated head punches,
stealing money,
and probably
most definitely cheating,
10/10 rather that
insideous ass shit.]
🙏 🙏 🙏

the machine breaks—💀💀
(this is gunna be bad y’all)
let’s run the math:
absolutely his fault,
his whole-ass bedding,
six pillowcases,
queen-sized tarp as sheets
= 2x a week
gym,
work,
play,
fuckaroundshit,
bro daily.
+ his fucking ancient appliances—
but guess
who’s gunna take that rage?
(and pay part of the bill on my
newly-abandoned-single-mom income)
me, obviously. 💅🥀

babe—
constant.
emotional.
terrorism.
exam tomorrow?
finals week?
major life crisis?
he senses weakness,
piles on laundry,
cleaning,
fakes sick,
what-the-fuck-ever—
just fucking chaos.
six-hour hostage situation.

and every inconvenience
is a goddamn coordinated
psychological attack—
drawer breaks?
bro, he’s raging.
obviously.
telling me to gtfo. ✨
dryer busts?
my fault.
he raged
for a WEEK.
rain tomorrow?
definitely fucking sam’s fault. 🌪🤷‍♀️

midday from his “job”—
slamming shit,
yelling shit,
emotionally terrorizing me & baby,
purposefully waking her from naps.
so i’d tiptoe around,
dog locked in garage,
baby petrified—
yo,
straight terrorized
into submission.
every.
fucking.
day.

shit.
this dude
straight up
tried to cancel
my daughter’s
first birthday.
🎉🎂✨🍰🥳
like the day before.
all paid by me.
people all flying in and shit.
same with christmas.
because this fucking
absolute goblin,
could not handle
not being central. ✨
motherfucker would—
fake sick.
fake an emergency.
fake—what-the-fuck-ever.

true narcissist playbook.
control via ✨crisis manufacturing✨

he feels irrelevant →
he creates chaos →
he punishes you for having joy.

like a true grownup.
true fucking
birthday blackout gremlin.
👹👹👹
babe.
shit made me so
fucking mad.
trying to keep it
the fuck together
for my fucking kid—
husband just
fucking bounced,
left me holding
fucking everything.
and now?
my daughter’s first…
fucking everything.
ruined.

🙃🙃🙃🙃
fucking end me.
𝟲𝟲𝟲𖤐

bro—
when my husband left,
the imaginary boundaries
went poof—🪄✨
i confronted him.
over and over—
"hey bro,
doors gotta close, man.
it’s weird, please."

**he’s fully exposed
himself to us…
(!!!)
mid-day…
door open…
multiple times.
but i’m the chaos.
trying to do anything
to…
fucking
not.

there’s literally no escaping it.

his response?
shock.
fake confusion.
mockery.
then immediate escalation:
threats,
rage,
eviction notices.

me and a fucking baby
in the car at night—
driving around aimlessly,
no protection,
just pure fuckery.

[zero help
from the babydaddy—
dude won’t even pay
the court-ordered support.
i’m on my own.]

shit escalates so violently,
my divorced mom—
who barely speaks to him—
has to
fucking sleep over
(!!!)
just so we’ll have a fucking buffer,
from him stalking us through the house,
demanding we leave,
zero degrees outside,
pure fucking nightmare. ❄️

so mom chimes in
with her own
warm brand of love:

“i mean honestly, sam?
never invited you—
he did.
very uncool of him
to just
throw you out. 🥀
i totally, completely know—
he’s sexually abusing you—
and you’re begging for help.
🥺🥺🥺
like uhg,
✨ full disclosure. ✨
tried to tell me for…
years…
but………
i pretend to be busy,
i can’t really hear you,
i don’t really have room,
and i was
✨so happy💫
when y’all
left,
last time 💀💀
he got weird.
🥺💔
so,
i’ll just throw up
a jerking-off
hand-motion
🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯
as i make a “that’s weird” face,
and dismiss you.
sweetie,
you’ll find me—
mowing the fucking lawn.
✊🏻🥺…

me internally like:
[jesusfuckingchrist
youstupidfuckingbitch]

but if you
do stay,
don’t touch shit—
not the washer,
not dishes,
nothing.
oh lol
and
maybe we’ll clear out a corner,
the shed?
i mean…
i know
you’re essentially living
in your car🚗🤘🏻
with a baby—
but…
eventually.” 💫✨

thanks mom.
damn.
💔✊🏻✨

yo,
i’m deadass.
when i finally
broke down,
tried to
tell the whole family—
again 💫
for the fucking millionth time.
[💀💀💀]
mom,
stepdad,
brother,
at one point
my husband
etc.
all of them—
everyone knew.
everyone fucking knew,
they did nothing.
or used it against me.
dudeeeeee.
🤮🤮🤮🤮
even like:
"yeah girl—me too."
BITCH
WHAT
😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
!!!!!!!

i’ve been over here—
begging for clarity,
help—anything,
confused for over
two fucking decades.
brushed off,
minimized,
and yet????
y’all are the reason
this shit continues.

all of you 💔

**same as my partner
when he dismissed my distress,
and only used it—
to weaponize it against me.
not to save us,
not to help us,
but to punish us—
for having
no other viable options.
🤮

and guess what?
not.
with.
my.
KID.

FUCKING EVER.

and then (!!!)—
these motherfuckers
flipped.
👹👹👹
start saying shit like:
me leaving is a choice,
i’m being “dramatic”
(!!!!!!!)
bro—
at this point
i straight up
asked my mom
if she’s ever seen her dad…
……
……
……
……
but me?
multiple times
in a few months?!
he…
refuses…
to…
stop…
?!?!?!?!??
still
will not
close
a single
door?
just becomes
more…
violent.
L O L
💀🔫
💀🔫
💀🔫
yo.
full on fucking
gaslighting olympics,
F U C K
(internally i know i’m cooked)
now they’re all
blaming me,
painting me aggressive,
stressful,
chaotic,
making me
the fucking crazy one
(as per usual)
for finally fucking exposing
the sick-ass-demented
fucking demons
they pretended
they couldn’t see.
f
u
c
k
!@#((
🥀

shit.
family motto
holds steady since birth:
“wow, sucks for you.
sounds like your fault.”
🤡🖕

honestly,
fuck every single one of them
for making me
say this shit out loud.
for making me
carry it alone.
for not protecting my daughter.
or me—ever
for making trauma
and shame
the only family heirloom
i'll ever fucking inherit. 💫

again—
zero stars.
wouldn’t fucking recommend.

time to ditch the family.
my kid will never know this shit.
never feel it in her
nervous system.

but—
escape part three?
bro,
shit only gets worse. 🖕🥀