Why do I do this in Journal

to myself?
I must believe, at some level, that I deserve to be subjected to sadistic, controlling, mean, angry, abusive men. My behavior is the evidence.
We can choose to do bad things, but we cannot choose the consequences…
I was looking for my father; that much is completely obvious. I found him in this man. This sadistic, callous, loud, and mean man. And he was all of those things to me. And still, I was happy to accept that treatment because it was what I was trained to accept and expect. It was a pattern repetition repetition. Unchosen, unexamined, unconscious.
Now, I have chosen to examine it and to be honest about it. So now it is a chosen relationship, or acquaintance, or whatever. And now I feel the suffering that is the result of my choice.
Hm. It all seems so very simple in writing. But inside, it is convoluted, contorted, and torturous.