Your desire to be in control is far-reaching, even if it is at my own expense. You don’t care about me, I am just a number to you. I wonder: do you think you own my soul? That you can do as you please, without consequence? Or dictate what I can and cannot do?
The mere sight of you reminds me of the way in which you treated others, and me. Working alongside you tears me down on the inside. Suicidal thoughts resurface; self-harm seems like a solution. Your words, your actions, it’s a case of deja vu.
The things I struggled with as a child have resurfaced through you in my adult life, yet you do not know any of this. Not that I could tell you. Your dismissal of human emotion and anything you cannot control renders you blind to reality.
This has persisted for months, and it is only intensifying. Do you realise, that through your words and actions you are losing me? I feel your grip weakening while you battle to keep holding on, but the control is back in my hands. I have friends and family who love me, I have value, my life is important. I will not be defined by one person.