The Toxic Toxicity
- Skyra Soul
- Apr 10, 2023
- 13 min read
It's time to finally confront the truth, to look my fears in the eye, and not turn away. I can feel the anxiety rising inside me, pushing me to a place I don't want to go. My body trembles with a chill that's like a combination of mania, depression, and an excess of information I can't even begin to process. I'm barely hanging on, and it almost feels like I'm going to have a psychotic break. Somehow, I manage to stay grounded, hold onto the present moment, and realize what I'm feeling is just a momentary overload of external stimuli that I can move past. I constantly question myself and my capabilities; am I living up to my fullest potential? Am I living my truth? What is my truth? Even when I look back to the moments of clarity, the moment I saw the galaxies, from finding my soul Tribe to meeting soulmates - I still question myself. If I'm being honest, I even doubt my own intuition. The fear of failure starts to creep in - am I made for this? Who else is made for this if not me? And that's when I remember to stop and ground myself. I'm determined to be the change I want to see in the world as cliché as it may sound; I no longer care to absorb anyone else’s judgment of me. At times, the decision to be here, in these emotions, can feel daunting, but instead of succumbing to the fear, I take a step back and assess what I'm afraid of. Analyzing the situation allows me to take back control, so I can move forward and make the best of it. In the end, it's a win-win for everyone – and that's my truth.
My need to control has been a reoccurring issue in my life. I often ask myself, is this a root chakra issue? Earlier today, I could feel a vibrating sensation radiating from that part of my body. In my moments of self-doubt and insecurity, I question my capabilities and wonder if I'm fulfilling my life purpose. Sometimes I forget that either way what is meant for me is already mine. I find myself reflecting on my own manipulative behavior in my relationships, especially my relationship with Gya. I was so desperate to never lose her that I resorted to playing the same mind games Gya played with me, even though I knew deep down it was wrong. What drove me to do this? Was it fear of losing her, coupled with a fear of being unstable? Surprisingly, my instability eventually became my newfound source of stability. I was so terrified of being left alone that I would willingly endure the cruel physical assaults and the searing pain that came with the emotional and mental abuse, because it meant that, eventually, the overwhelming dependence we had on one another would cause her to love me the way I thought I needed- and if I played my cards right, I could get up to a day, or if I was really lucky, maybe two, in which it would be all about me.
I had already been struggling with the mental abuse I was receiving thus far- the silence, the gaslighting – there were times it would take weeks before Gya took a break from the alcoholic binges. I thought I was conditioned to believe that anything I said or did was wrong, but really, I allowed the treatment because I knew it was what she wanted. On May 5th things escalated, Gya had come home late, and her drunkenness turned into physical assaults without prompting. It was after that that I realized I could get her to comfort me and regret her actions if I threatened to leave. Of course, that comfort would come at a cost. Gya got home drunk and immediately started her verbal attack, waking me up from a deep sleep. This all happened a few nights after we had a confrontation because I got tired of staying silent and listening to her degrade me in front of one of her friends. I lost most of my clothes that night when she emptied out my duffel bag somewhere on the highway. All I had done that night was walk away when the conversation with her friend turned into a dissection of all the qualities she hated about me. I did learn that night that she lies so good she believes them herself. She laughed with her friend at that drunken revelation. I left her with that duffel bag and my car. Thankfully, I kept my peace during that confrontation, it was however at the cost of my car’s side mirror and those clothes. Of course, I ended up begging her to take me back. I should’ve never walked away, I should’ve never acted out, especially in front of a friend. So, by May 5th, she made me pay for it by punching me endlessly. That fight would haunt me for a long time, so much so that I heard my own screams of pain whenever I closed my eyes.
It took me much longer than I would have liked to accept that I was stuck in a cycle of abuse. I thought that if I kept playing along with Gya and acted like I was in control of the situation, I could eventually find a way out. So, I began to drink with her, hoping that my lowered inhibitions would give me the strength and courage to stand up for myself, even if it meant being punched or slapped. Yet, no matter how much pain she inflicted on me, we would still come together the following day and love each other fiercely. I had initially found comfort and solace in the idea of Gya, however, that got old fast.
I had been through hell and back with her: our constant fighting, the verbal and physical abuse that I had to endure just because I dared to open my mouth or express my temper. It felt like she made it a mission to make sure that I knew that my mere existence displeased her. As I write this, I realize that I completely blacked out during some moments like in March 2021 when I had planned a getaway with Gya. We were the only ones who knew about that night in Atlanta on the 19th. I don’t know why we started arguing. I had unknowingly said something that incited a verbal attack from her. I remember her explicit descriptions of how she would ravish a man to the point of climax. Her depiction came with a sort of malicious twinkle in her eyes as she demonstrated with her hands what she would subject a man to. She gazed at me while she spoke and gestured an up and down motion with her hands, seemingly taking pleasure in my discomfort; nevertheless, I desperately tried to remain unfazed, feigning indifference, but my facial expressions betrayed me, revealing just how flustered I was. I was never any good at concealing my emotions. I remember deciding to walk away, leave the apartment, and let her entertain herself until she was sober. I remember turning my back to her and then seeing the stars turn to complete darkness. I remember losing the hearing in my right ear as the floor and my face collided. That was the first time I remember my threats of leaving her escalated to a physical assault. I remember ending up outside and getting text messages to come back in. I don’t know if it was my inability to fight back or some brain damage caused by the Donkey Kong fist to my ear, but I eventually did come back. I’m not sure how we fell asleep, or what happened the next day, I just remember we acted like nothing ever happened.
Rose felt like time was a jumbled mess as she thought about all the terrifying experiences she had with Gya. Taking a break from journaling, she tried to piece together the order of events by looking at old photos; however, her foggy memory couldn't recall if that night in Atlanta was the first time she was punched in the face - she remembered every single incident but could not remember the exact timeline. She did feel that some nights when they both drank, her wild tongue often led her to act in ways that were begging for a slap or two - her uncontrollable need to antagonize a wildfire was almost too strong for Rose to resist. Despite knowing she was wrong; she was powerless to stop herself and it made her wonder what it was inside her that drove her to such reckless behavior. Rose continued writing, hoping to find some answers.
I had seen the signs early on; the circus was in full swing. The beatings got progressively worse, often unprovoked. Sometimes it was the result of me having spoken out of turn, my loud and reckless mouth getting me into trouble. Although it was a risk, I was determined to let myself fall madly in love with this person, ignoring the lack of boundaries. I was captivated by her presence, and it felt like I was living a dream. Unfortunately, I was also naive enough to overlook the fact that pain and betrayal came with it too. My prior relationship had left me scarred, making me realize that people could be deceitful enough to keep secrets and live double lives. It also introduced me to the term 'gaslighting' and I found it necessary to keep records of everything just to prove I wasn't going crazy. By the end of May 2021 Gya and I had gone through at least three more nights of major fights and separation. We had bought a truck together and uprooted our lives venturing off to live in a new town and start fresh. Of course, we separated after another fight where I was stranded in a town I barely knew as Gya drove off drunkenly because I couldn’t sit in the car with her long enough to withstand her verbal attacks. Eventually, she would come around, usually the day after, to come looking for me, and then we couldn’t keep her hands off each other until our next inevitable disastrous confrontation.
Sometime before July 4th that year, I decided to propose to Gya. I figured that would show her I wasn’t going anywhere, of course, I realized later she was never afraid that I would leave. She only cared that I’d be submissive. Unfortunately, I wasn’t capable of ever being enough, I was never meant to be.
A few weeks after the proposal we were back to the chaos. On July 21st Gya had asked me to come home from work early and I did, even though there was something inside me that told me to stay away. That night, I was overwhelmed by the mounting pressure; Gya had abruptly cut off all communication with me, taken the engagement ring I had just given her weeks before, and placed it around her neck, leaving me confused and hurt. The sheer amount of effort, time, money, and self-respect I had invested in this relationship only served to increase my toxic emotions. I had uprooted my entire life to be with her, and here I was, paying a high cost. It didn’t matter to me that everything inside me screamed to turn around and go back to work or maybe just get some much-needed sleep. I refused to give in to my instincts because all I wanted was to understand why Gya felt the need to make me feel so insecure. I remember the moment I mustered the courage to confront her, asking the question that had been plaguing my mind for days: "Why are you treating me so coldly?" Her response struck me harder than the fist she struck my face with, and this attempt to uncover the truth became so much more than just a physical blow.
A perfect storm brewed, and I wasn’t only sleep-deprived, working gigs round the clock to pay for everyone’s living expenses, but I was also mentally and emotionally drained. I was acting recklessly, blocking her, ignoring her to get a reaction, threatening to stand up for myself, and ignoring my own intuition telling me not to confront her, all so I could look her in the face and tell her I was over it. I was over the inconsistency, the stonewalling, the unbearable silent treatments I had tolerated for reasons I couldn’t understand. So, when I tried to get an explanation of why, she was acting the way she was acting, she just looked at me dumbfounded, as if her treatment of me was all an illusion I made up in my head. I decided to tell her I was done. That’s when she punched me in the face and a full-on brawl between us happened. Her teeth viciously dug into my right arm as I lunged at her in anger for hitting me. I slapped her, trying to desperately release her teeth from my arm which only gave her access to my other hand, of which she chomped down on. The pain was so excruciating. The only way I could get from her mouth’s grip was to throw myself back onto the concrete floor out of the truck, surely leaving behind some skin in her mouth. She stepped out of the truck with the ring in hand and threw it into the woods across the street. By the time I left, I had apologized profusely for getting out of hand. I was told how horrible of a person, words that amplified my instant remorse for my reaction to Gya hitting me. As I drove away, the pain of the fight, both physical and emotional, set in.
I drove far enough to feel as safe as I possibly could and walked into an emergency room. The nurse that called me into triage, had called the police and introduced me to an officer after apologizing for having to follow protocol. The officer took me to an empty hallway to make sense of my story. Why hadn’t I called the cops before? Why had I traveled across two counties before going to the hospital? I know the blank stare in my eyes told the officer I wasn’t really of present mind. After I had dodged all his questions, he advised me that at the very least I should have an escort present should I decide to pick up my belongings. So, my toxic toxicity was ignited yet again. I didn’t even wait for a doctor to stitch up my wounds. I simply jumped in my car and headed straight for the woods that inhabited the engagement ring Gya had so viciously discarded. My plan was to show my assertiveness when the sun rose. I would call the local sheriff, as instructed, and ask them for an escort while I stood in plain sight looking for the ring. That morning the police met me at the location. I explained I only wanted protection while I searched for the engagement ring in the general location I had seen her throw it in. But we all knew my true intentions, I was fully in my ego, wanting to be seen as fearless and bigger than I was made to feel the night before, and I would pay dearly for it.
Somehow, my request for a police escort would lead to an open investigation, when Gya came out, dressed, and fully composed, ready to go to work. I, in turn, stood disheveled, in my hospital socks, with bloody wounds out in the open. I repeated my request to not press charges but was convinced that I was safe to tell the officer my story, so I did, to the best of my memory. My intentions to create a sense of assertiveness were met with doubt. When the officer asked for the third time what happened the night before, and aggressively told me to “cut the bullshit” after going back and forth between Gya and me. I instantly remembered how my intuition urged me not to even see her that night. That’s when I gave up trying to convince anyone. I looked up to my Creator, and I admitted, out loud, that the whole event was all my fault.
That confession sealed my fate, forget the three times Gya was on record for changing her side of the story denying we were even engaged, or claiming we were never a family unit to then backtrack and admit to all her inconsistencies. I was the crazy one, I stalked her, and she was scared for her life because I had bitten her index finger during my attempt to defend myself. So, I was placed in handcuffs and into the cop car as I wondered who the real enemy was. The officer took me to jail and before he dropped me off, he confessed his regret for only having arrested me, of course, this was off the record, but gave me some comfort.
That first day in jail was a complete blur, I was a shell of a person simply following directions. On the second day, they took me to a holding cell to wait for my appearance before the judge. There were about 20 of us in the holding cell. I watched a woman ,going through withdrawals, stop breathing. Not one guard came to her rescue while we all yelled for help. The way her eyes rolled back into her skull as she convulsed still haunts me.
I was finally called before a judge. I stood silently, listening to the State Prosecutor say that the victim was afraid for her life, how she begged that I stay behind bars. Somehow I became the abuser and Gya was the victim and I searched my thoughts for moments in our relationship where this statement could have been true. The prosecutor made me sound like a monster and as I stood there I wondered if I actually was. I was numb staring at the judge waiting for his requirements. Fortunately, I had never been in trouble with the law and that day I let go with instructions to check in every week. I walked out just as I had walked in; disheveled and bloody, and I thought I would never go back to this forbidden relationship, this was meant to happen so I can finally break free from my own addiction to chaos. Only it would take so much more than a couple of days in jail for me to learn what I needed to learn. It would take another year and quite a few more nights of bloody beatings to be exact. No matter how long it took me I will never change my experiences for any amount of money in the world. I am who I am because of it.
Rose put down the pen and took a deep breath. The story no longer made her react the way it used to, she no longer cringed at the thought of her wounds, the sleepless nights of chaos, and her toxic toxicity. She had forgiven herself and everyone involved and had surrendered her control to the Most High. She realized nothing Gya put her through was ever personal, it was all just a reflection of Gya’s own pain. Rose closed her journal and said a prayer of gratitude for being guided away from what would have been the pathway to her death- away from her toxic toxicity.
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