Cutting Ties Is Surgery: The Brutal Reality of No Contact After Abuse
No contact is not about hate. It is the day you pick up the scalpel and cut out what is killing you, even if you bleed in silence.
There is a moment when the ground disappears beneath you. For me, it was not a parent or a partner. Well, not this time. It was the day I realized my therapist was not my friend, not my protector, and never intended to keep me safe. This was someone I trusted for five years. Someone who knew every fear, every scar, every hope I had left.
When I was at my lowest, after being blackmailed and having $126,000 stolen from me, I was trying to hold my life together while also fighting an ongoing case that could have ended my career. The therapist who was supposed to help me survive that storm spent over a year convincing me that someone was threatening both of us—telling me people were coming after us, that I needed to stay quiet, pay up, and trust her because she was the only shield I had.
But it was all a lie. She was the one threatening me. She was the one promising disaster if I did not obey. She weaponized my trust, my story, and my vulnerability until I could not tell what was real and what was manipulation. I wanted so badly to reach out and rage, to demand my money back, to make her admit what she had done, but it never happened. She believed she would get away with it, and she still does.
Trying to wrap my mind around all of this almost broke me for good. My reality shattered. I had to rebuild my mind from scratch. What finally gave me some relief was going completely no contact. No more reaching out. No more defending myself. No more begging for what I deserved. The day I finally stopped was the day I started to heal.
People think going no contact is just blocking a number. They call it cold, cruel, dramatic. What they cannot see is the crater left behind when you finally accept that the person you trusted never cared about you at all.
You do not go no contact for revenge. You do it because you want to live.
The Guilt Nobody Sees
The first thing you feel is not relief. It is guilt so thick you can taste it. You replay every warning you ignored, every red flag, every moment you thought maybe it would be different. You are left explaining why you needed surgery to people who have never had the infection.
Abusers and enablers use your compassion as a weapon and call you cruel for finally choosing yourself.
Every apology you never got, every call you never answered, becomes another reason to blame yourself for the fallout. The people who harmed you—family, partners, professionals—turn your empathy into ammunition.
Backlash and Betrayal
Nobody lines up to defend you when you cut ties with the wrong people. Your abuser plays the victim. Friends and family turn their heads, or worse, take sides against you. Even your own mind tries to betray you. Memories surface—birthdays, holidays, all the so-called good times.
There were days I almost dialed the number just to scream, just to demand the truth. But I already knew how it would end.
When my therapist called the police, that was the final lesson. No amount of reaching out would bring closure, or justice, or peace. You have to build that peace yourself, one brutal day at a time.
No Contact Is Not Quitting
They will call it running away. They will say you are giving up.
Here is the truth. You already tried every possible way to heal, to fix, to stay. You carried the pain, the blame, the hope. You gave second, third, and hundredth chances.
No contact is not quitting. It is surgery. It is saving your own life when nobody else will.
What It Actually Feels Like
The urge to break no contact is not just emotional. It is physical. Your body craves the familiar chaos, the chance that maybe, this time, you will finally be seen. Every day you do not reach out, you win a battle nobody else will ever see.
You do not get closure. What you get is your own freedom, even if it feels empty at first.
You write down the reasons you left. You read them when your hands shake. You remember what happened when you tried to save someone who was busy destroying you.
What to Expect When You Go No Contact
Nobody prepares you for what it will feel like. There are days you will feel proud and days you will feel destroyed. Some mornings you wake up relieved. Other nights, the loneliness hits so hard you start questioning everything. You might feel more lost than ever. You might wonder if you made it all up. You will grieve not just the person, but the hope you had for the relationship. You will feel angry, guilty, and sometimes numb.
Some days the world feels colorless. You might fantasize about reconnecting, just for a minute, just for closure. You will bargain with yourself. You will feel the ache of all the things you wish you could say. Your brain will try to trick you into believing you are the villain. You will think about the holidays, the birthdays, the empty space in your contacts list.
But here is the real truth:
These feelings are proof you are healing. The pain is the evidence that you are cutting out what was killing you. The cravings are a sign you are breaking the addiction, not failing the test.
If nobody else has said this to you, let me be the one:
You are not crazy for feeling lost
You are not weak for missing them
You are not wrong for needing space to heal
This Was Real
For anyone wondering, this is not just a story or a vent. I filed a police report. I filed an official LARA complaint against my former therapist for what happened—over $126,000 stolen, extortion, false accusations, and psychological abuse. That complaint is still being reviewed. I sat across from LARA detectives just a month ago, laying out every piece of evidence. I am not writing this because I gave up. I am writing it because I know what it costs to hold the line, and I am still living it every day.
If You Are Holding the Line
You are not cruel. You are not broken. You are doing surgery with your own hands and living with the scars.
No contact is not an ending. It is the first real breath after drowning.
If you are in that dark place—raging, hurting, doubting—know that I have been there. I know what it feels like to scream at a locked door. You do not owe anyone an explanation for saving your own life.
No contact is not hate. It is proof that you still want to live.
If you need help holding the line, I made a tool that breaks down every step of the no contact process, how to survive the guilt, and how to hold on when everything in you wants to fold.
You can download it for free, no sign-up, no catch.
Stay strong. You’ve got this shit.
— Cody Taymore
Kill The Silence
My Therapist Extorted $126,000, Controlled My Life, and Almost Destroyed Me
This post reflects my personal lived experience. All events are documented through verifiable communications, contracts, and official reports. This story includes allegations that have been reported to state and legal authorities.
Cody, if this is unhelpful or inappropriate please delete it.
I’m not in a position to cut ties with the people who abused me. I can’t give details right now. But I do control all communication. I will not speak with them on the phone or in person. Ever. I do not trust them at all even if they are priests. The only communication I allow is in writing either via email or snail mail. I’ve made this crystal clear and told them it’s because I absolutely do not trust them. I do the same for any communication with others concerning them. I make multiple copies of all files both on physical drives and in the cloud. I also scan snail mail in case something happens to the original. Documentation (a written record of everything) is also wise. An acquaintance who is an attorney advised me that having hard evidence of all communication “just in case” is a smart way to protect yourself. This might be helpful for others.
I don’t feel so alone now, Cody. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart ♥️.