I've been wanting to put some thoughts out there for many years and I'm going to take this chance.

These are my thoughts, I don't know if anyone else has ever felt this way. Everyone's lives are different and complex and their own.

When it was time (x100) for me to leave the abusive relationship, I couldn't. My mind wouldn't let me. It was the same mind that told me to get the fuck out.

There is extensive research and information on why this is. Some, not all, could apply to me. In my experience, there is one aspect that that I've never heard mentioned. Maybe it is touched with the honeymoon-abuse cycle, however, this didn't fully resonate with me.

One, of many, reasons I kept going back is, I had become an adrenaline junkie. The good times were so crazy, freaking, awesome, and the bad times were the extreme opposite. Then the good times were still good, but the fear of the bad times were added. It was a never ending 'one up' of the other. Either way, my blood was pumping and my body was responding to a host of extreme emotions and situations. Love to/or death. And I'd go. And I'd go back.

Sitting alone, or even with good friends, I think I experienced withdrawal. I was so used to him flooding all my senses. Life was listless, boring, dull. Maybe, one time I left long enough, and something clicked? I didn't need that high anymore? I don't know. Another strange thing is the last time I left was like all the other times I left. I don't know if that make sense. And that was that, 13 years ago. My memory does fuck with me. Every once in a while something will remind me of him and I'll feel that craving, it's not for him, it's for that high he gave me.

I'm super boring now, adrenaline doesn't agree with me. I avoid it.

I wanted to share in case someone feels like I did and reading this helps. I only speak for myself.