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I am the partner of someone with diagnosed bipolar. He is 52. Diagnosed and treated since his 20s. We were together for 3 years this month and I have stood by and supported him for 3 years. It has been a very difficult and rocky road. He was stable for many, many years and then triggered possibly by the sudden death of his mother and forced into several med changes. He then lost 2 jobs after having the same one for 20 years, crashed his car when manic and had a terrible gambling episode. This all happened in 2023- To name just a few of the incidents…. After so much hard work, we thought he has finally "stable" - since fall of 2023- and then the unthinkable happened last week- he hit me in the face, punched a hole through my door and shattered a full length mirror. He had never been physical to me- ever. I waited a year after we met to introduce him to my 2 boys and then he become their everything, especially my youngest. They walked in minutes after I kicked him out to their mom battered, broken glass and a door punched through. They have never witnessed any violence in their lives and have a super stable home. That was 5 days ago and we are in total agony. Like grieving a sudden death. Having him hurt me is a line I never thought he could ever be capable of. He has tried to contact me, but I think he is still in an episode- his emails (I blocked him elsewhere) are about how agonizing this is for him and lack an even understanding of the pain my family is going through. We can barely keep our heads above water right now. He is the most loving, intuitive and empathetic human I have ever known- how can this be about him? Please help me with any insight. I am seeing my therapist- 3x this week already, and got medical attention....I am having no contact with him, but insight from those of you who have experienced would help so much. He is on a combo of seizure medicine and antipsych which we thought was working. seizure medicine for sleep and antipsych as a rescue. He’s never been hospitalized. I’ve let his family know what’s happening but they are 8 hours away and I don’t think doing much and he doesn’t really have anyone else locally but me. I am grieving so hard. I am heartbroken. He was the love of my life that I wasn’t even looking for. I was with someone from age 18-45- married for 20 of those years - had my 2 children with him. And I have more memories and feelings and love for this man of 3 years than for my ex husband. As hard as these 3 years have been, he was my second chance, my love. Met him by accident - wasn’t even looking. And the thought of all of us starting over (my children’s father rarely sees them- only on occasion). Well, it almost feels too much to bear. It hurts more than the hit to my face did. And that is really messing with me. I know I can’t go back. I know it will now happen again - I’m told by my therapist, I’m reading it everywhere. I don’t want to even model that to my kids. My youngest is devastated - said to me “it feels like he died in a car crash suddenly and we never got to say goodbye but he caused it on purpose”. They were best friends- the closest I’d ever seen my son get to anyone other than me or my other son. My older son I had to drop at college 6 hours away 1 day after it happened. And all he cares about is if I’m ok. That burden is so unfair. They are 19 and 15. And I’m so so angry at the same time. I can’t make sense of anything right now I guess…. I want so badly deep down to believe he was wronged as a child or that this mental illness is responsible, that he is capable of rehabilitation - and at the same time I am so angry that I went him arrested and exposed - I want him never to do this to me or anyone again. I’m drowning in my anxiety and thoughts

We went to high school together, the prom, etc. My first love. 9 years after HS graduation we reconnected at a wedding and were married less than a year later. I liked our childhood connection, and how he liked to fix things. Everyone said it was “meant to be.” But there were many red flags. He abused me in every way. Mentally, by undermining my dreams and hopes (telling me I would never finish my degree). Financially, by spending money we didn't have, hiding major purchases from me, quitting jobs impulsively if he was ever “disrespected.” Physically, by spitting on me, shaking me, throwing me down on the floor. He lied to me, called me names, called me fat, threw away my cherished items then mocked me for picking through the garbage to find them. He also cheated on me and gave me an std then denied it saying I must have cheated on him when I hadn’t. He undermined my sense of reality. The tipping point was finding my 13 year old daughter's diary and reading about what she had heard and witnessed when I thought she was asleep. I couldn't raise her or her brothers around this anymore. The hardest thing was navigating custody. He had never once cared for our 3 children by himself–not even for an afternoon. He had connections in both police and social service agencies and was a former CPS worker so accusations of abuse never stuck to him. He dated and briefly married a lawyer so he had free and unlimited legal representation. He neglected our children, drank heavily (he is an alcoholic) and scared them many times with his rage and outbursts. Not being able to shield them from him was and remains the hardest part. My family is Catholic and takes marriage very seriously as do I. Right before I filed for divorce my mom was telling me how things weren't that bad. I told her that she could 1) either ask me to stop talking about my reality with her or 2) accept my reality–but that I would no longer accept her denial of my reality. She heard me, apologized, and has been fully supportive ever since. Please do not assume because someone is a social worker, calls himself an advocate, or a feminist, or even works as an advocate that he lives out these values in private. My ex was given an award by the police department for his work with homeless people the same week that he locked me outside of our house during a tornado (I had to ride it out in my car in the driveway). Obviously knowing that I'm not alone, that even though more than a decade has passed and that I'm very happily married to a kind and loving man, that this pain stays with me. On my children's birthdays I always struggle remembering how he abused me while I was in labor and recovering from childbirth. That is something very hard to share. Speak Your Truth allowed me to not be alone with those memories for the first time.

I awoke the morning of July 5th, year in a bed I don’t remember going to sleep in, next to a person I’d never even met. When someone violates your trust and your body they become a different person to you. Almost instantaneously. I had been in his bed with him before, but I really noticed it then. The voice I heard stung my ears, his laugh made me cringe. But it wasn’t that I knew right away what happened to me, and what he did was wrong. It was the fact I thought I made a mistake I had to live with forever. I thought it was a “misunderstanding”. The fact I didn’t say yes, I said no. I closed my legs. As I got up out of that bed, I have no memory until I was in my car driving home. When we talk about the combination of trauma brain and 27 28 probably at least six drinks in my system. All I wanted was a shower, maybe that would erase all of this. Maybe it was a mistake, people regret having sex all the time, not like this. I began to have panic attacks while I was alone or when his name came up. He later became very angry at me, and humiliated me. I was forced to engage in sex against my will. My very, very, stumbling, blurry, intoxicated will. I said no, why wasn’t that enough? Why was that the first time I did that with a man? Why did it feel like my heart was broken? Because my heart was broken. Trust violated, and I didn’t know how to tell anyone what happened. The person you used to call in these situations became the reason it happened. I never thought anyone would ever believe me. I also really didn’t identify it as anything other than a mistake, ick. The next day when I came home I proceeded to take off my American Eagle brand blue Jeans, White T-Shirt, and maroon-colored American Eagle sweater. I sat in the shower for an hour. Later that fall I found those clothes in the trunk of my car, that makes me think I remember even less than I do and that fucks with me. I donated that sweater about a year ago. I should have burned it. About two weeks before it happened, you told me that you were no longer attracted to me anymore. And that's fine. We were at a party. That party was for our friend, Name (Name is a story of another time), but I was intoxicated by the time you got to the party. I think I arrived at 4, and was too drunk to drive by 5pm. When you got to the party, I drunkenly told you how much I was attracted to you, and you rejected me. You told me that you were no longer attracted to me. In those words. But why would you then do this two weeks later, if you weren’t attracted to me, why sex? 29 The following spring, I had moved into an apartment with a few strangers, and that is when the memories started to really come back to me. Laying in bed one night, thinking about my experience, I casually G-O-O-G-L-E-D what is “non consensual oral sex”. The person that I am today cannot believe that I was in this much denial from all of this, that I had something done to my body and didn’t even know. When was it going to let me know? When this thought prompted, I knew I didn’t consent to what happened to me, but I didn’t want to admit that it was sexual assault. So what was I looking for? I wanted some middle-ground answer to pop up, an answer like, ‘you’re not wrong, but you weren’t sexually assaulted’ but there really is no in between. I acted as if my experience did not warrant the title of the experience of others that I thought might be “worse” than my situation. Non-consensual oral sex. What became of this fucked up search history that I’m sure someone somewhere can see what I”m looking up and say ‘damn, that’s fucked up’ what came up was R-A-P-E. I stared at the computer screen, started to shake and look over what sources and what people say, what the law and science says. That is an uncomfortable word. It doesn’t just come out, it is a dirty word that is said, and it doesn’t just come off the tongue, it sits there and lingers and anticipates the reaction you know is coming because the person you told also knows the person who harmed you. I looked at state law, by law, these dirty words I’d hate to make you uncomfortable to read, is rape. That was the most validation I had ever needed. I had issues with relationships after that. I had one bad memory from him, and all the other memories from him would shatter. This was unfortunately a common feeling for me because he attempted to rape me a few months back. Looking back, that was way worse than I ever imagined. Today I educate people that attempted rapes are almost as traumatic for your brain as the sexual assault. Your brain 30 recognizes the same thing, but in my mind, eventually my no was taken, so I had the power right? Why did he listen to me then? My body became uncomfortable in my own skin. I wanted a new body, one that had not been touched by yours, one that didn’t have your mouth on it, hands that did not touch yours, and gone through something, I'm sorry I can’t tell you everything because I don’t remember. You hear that? I don’t remember. I used to say, if someone that didn’t have my psyche came up to me and told me exactly what happened to me, happened to them, and then told me that they were unsure if the feelings they had in their own body, the only thing we truely own, the only thing we can truly love, I would say definitely it is sexual assault. I would probably be inquisitive to the fact that what they are telling me is in fact, sexual assault. I would tell myself that I didn’t consent, and that question would automatically be answered. But when it happens to yourself, you know that feeling. Again, the feeling of disgust, nothing has ever fit that feeing more and that was a fucked up comfort and validation that I had been looking for. Oh my god, someone else actually knows how I feel, it wasn’t just me, I am not completely and utterly alone with these thoughts. This was rape. If that word makes you uncomfortable, imagine how uncomfortable it makes me. It doesn’t slide off the tongue, it sits there and anticipates the reactions it knows is coming, because the person that you’re talking to also knows him. This person is also under the assumption you were still attracted to him, which is disgusting that you ever even took the time to entertain. Trauma is stored in the body. It’s unfortunately, and to me, accurately described as a rush of sharp energy that rages through my body, and makes me hypervigilant. Not only that, Every year, my body freaks out at the same time of year, every year my body freaks out with the warm weather. Around the time of year I met him, May or June. Unfortunately as this story continued, that became more and more relevant to my story and even morphed into other parts of 31 the year associated with him. Like we have fall time, attempted rape occurred. We have wintertime, a few days before christmas one year, attempted rape occurred. However, especially spring/summer time of year breaks me apart, and it has affected a lot of my physical relationships, and feeling of safety. I guess July 5th changed me. Changed me into the woman I am today, but I am happy to say the woman I am today helps others that need support and advocacy. Out of all this bad, all these years of feeling trapped, I am finally able to set some of myself free from what happened to me.

It's been 2 years since I got away from my abuser, he was the first to abuse me and I have struggled through my recovery from all of it and learning to live my life on my terms has been both amazing and scary I am a survivor of physical, sexual and mental, emotional abuse my abusers this is the first time in my life I am free of abuse and living my life the way I always dreamed of, please don't ever give up I didn't and now I have the most amazing life I still have things i am working through but i am a survivor and I am happy

Was it really that bad? Healing after getting out can be a rollercoaster of emotions and self doubt. You're not alone, sharing your story helps others to stop being silenced out of shame. Sometimes the healing process is hard because we remember more, or feel what we tried not to feel. You don't have to worry about being believable, focus on your own healing journey because you lived it, and need to trust the process. Your story, and what you lived, is testimony enough.

I grew up in an abusive home. My father always tried his best, but his negative emotions always got in the way. I’m 20 now. I was in a relationship for almost one year recently with a “Ryle”. I new I didn’t want that for the rest of my life. I deserved better. Yet, I stayed silent. I knew this movie would change everything for me and it did. I finally left him and as hard as it was, it was the best thing for me and for my future. I believe you have one life, why would I let it go to waste on someone like that? Thank you for this movie.

Hi there, To anyone still in an abusive or toxic relationship, or healing from one like I am — I want you to know that you are strong enough to break free and to heal. It’s important to remember that none of this is your fault. You don’t have to go through this alone. Speak up, ask for help, and believe in yourself again. I was in an abusive relationship for 8.5 years, and it’s been 9 years since, the time it took me to realize that this isn’t something you have to face by yourself. I wish I could go back and tell my younger self this! Please don’t keep it a secret. People will listen, and you will find your way out and begin to heal. Don’t let anyone, including yourself, tell you otherwise. You deserve to be safe, happy, and free. ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

This story is not easy to read but it's harder to live. I am a survivor of narcissistic abuse, sexual assault, and systemic failure. I share this not for pity, but for truth. For every woman who's been silenced, dismissed, or retraumatized by the very systems meant to protect her. I write this to reclaim my voice and to help others find theirs. It took me until my fifties to realize my worth. I’d spent decades carrying the weight of a childhood that stripped me of confidence and self-worth. That was heavily influenced by a nefarious dictator who called himself Dad. The physical abuse was bad enough but he managed to see to it that his children sailed into adulthood without knowing our own value, and no self-esteem whatsoever. I still managed to marry, raise children, and hold good jobs. I’m intelligent, I carry myself well. But until recently, no one knew how little I thought of myself—even me. Then came the man who would nearly destroy me. He was younger, persistent, and now I understand: he was conditioning me for narcissistic abuse. What followed was three years of daily trauma. I ugly-cried every single day. That’s over 1,095 days of emotional devastation. By the end, my energy, my vivaciousness, and my tenacity were barely hanging on. He did the most heinous things. He killed my cat. He threatened my life and my children’s lives. He kept me tethered with fear. He destroyed everything I owned—including my 2009 Tahoe, which I used for work and to care for my kids. He blew it up shortly after he sent me to the ICU, fighting for my life. I had refused to give him the name of the hospital or my doctors. I was there for 18 days. It was touch and go every single day. A chaplain visited me daily. Because it was a very Merry Covid Christmas, my teenage sons weren’t allowed to say goodbye. Looking back, I realize that was a blessing—no one spoke death into my children’s lives. God is good. The infection that nearly killed me, and almost costed me my right leg, came from a sexual assault. I went home on a PICC line, receiving grapefruit-sized balls of antibiotics daily, for 6 weeks. My kids administered them. I had four surgeries in three months and a blood transfusion. Two days after I got home, my truck exploded. I was one of those cars you see on the freeway engulfed in flames. After I got out of the hospital and my truck blew up, I knew I had to fight for justice. I had proof—medical records, pictures, witnesses. I had been choked, stabbed, assaulted, and received death threats in writing and on video. I waited a year to file because I was mentally and physically broken. I had nothing left in me. But when I finally did, I thought someone would help me. I thought the system would protect me. It didn’t. The DA never contacted me. Not once. I had to rely on VINE alerts just to know when he was in court. No one told me anything. A judge denied my protective order and called him “honey” and “baby” in the courtroom. I had a strong legal team from a nonprofit, and even they were shocked. They wanted to move the case to another county, but I was scared. I didn’t want to poke the bear. He was still stalking me. Still watching. I was re-victimized by the very people who were supposed to help me. The police ignored my reports. The advocates mocked me. One even made fun of me for asking about a Christmas meal after I had all my teeth pulled from the damage he caused. I had a minor child at home and no food. And they laughed. The Attorney General’s Victims Compensation Office helped with the hospital bill for my teeth removal, but not with replacing them. They wouldn’t relocate me because we didn’t live together—even though he saw me almost every day. They had help, but not for me. He got six days in the county jail. That’s it. No restitution. No accountability. He still knows where I am. He still stalks me on social media as a way of eminding me that someday he will make good on his threat to come after me when I least expect it. I don’t know where he is. And I live with that fear every single day. After the justice system failed me, I had nowhere to turn but inward. I went through three different women’s centers and maxed out every therapy program they offered. I showed up for every session, I showed up for me, and for my two sons who had seen the whole drama play out—even when I could barely speak through the grief. I wasn’t just healing from physical trauma. I was healing from being ignored, dismissed, and re-victimized by the very institutions that were supposed to protect me. And when the therapy ran out, I didn’t stop. I found free entrepreneurship training through Memorial Assistance Ministries, and I poured myself into it—not because I had a business plan, but because I needed something to remind me I still had value. I enrolled in the Navigator program and just being at a feedback meeting at United Way I was able to tap into some education through some of the country's most prestigious universities. I earned certificates from the University of Maryland, the University of Valencia, and even Harvard. I got my graphic design certification and used it to create empowerment products, journals, and visual storytelling pieces that spoke to the pain I couldn’t always say out loud. I earned 17 certificates through the Texas Advocacy Project, becoming a trauma-informed, lived experience advocate. I did all of this while still healing, still growing and approaching my 60th birthday. Now here I am, still unable to find a job. I have all this knowledge, all this training, and nowhere to apply it. I’m still standing. Still creating. Still trying. But the silence from the world around me is deafening. I didn’t just survive—I transformed. And yet, I’m still waiting for a door to open. I’m going to keep writing. Keep pushing. Keep showing up for my health, even when the systems around me make it feel like survival is a full-time job. I haven’t been able to resolve the dental issues yet, and that alone has impacted my confidence, my comfort, and my ability to fully engage in the world. There’s a very real possibility that I’ll be facing a housing crisis in the coming months. Living on disability isn’t sustainable, and the math doesn’t add up no matter how many ways I try to stretch it. But I’m not giving up. I’ve come too far, learned too much, and built too many bridges to stop now. I’m looking for a miracle—not because I’m helpless, but because I’ve done everything I can on my own. I’m ready for a door to open. Ready for someone to see the value in what I’ve built, in what I know, in who I am. I’m not asking for charity. I’m asking for a chance to turn all this lived experience into impact. Into legacy. Into something that finally feels like justice.

I didn't realise until over a year after the separation that the relationship I had been in for almost a decade was abusive. I was confused, I was lost, I doubted every thought and memory I had because that's what I'd been conditioned to do. He used to tell me I had a bad memory, that I remembered the incident wrongly; he would start an argument in the car on the way to what was supposed to be a pleasant gathering with friends; he would criticise me all the time and when I finally snapped and shouted at him to stop criticising, he said I was crazy. He didn't let me sleep a full night for 4 years after our baby was born, I was exhausted, I was extremely anxious about everything. I was in fight or flight mode all the time. The last straw was him shouting at our child all the time because he made a noise, because he made a mess, because of something. I know all this now, but I didn't understand what was happening at the time. I will still second guess myself if anyone vaguely questions my choice or my decision. I was strong before and I lost my voice. I'm fighting hard to get it back but post separation abuse is real and it's difficult when someone is constantly trying to invalidate you and dismiss your concerns. No more. We have to talk about it, join together and eradicate a permissiveness that allows victims to be suppressed and perpetrators to continue unchecked.

For a long time, a seemingly eternity, I have always felt ashamed at being at the receiving end of DV as a man. I always thought that it eroded my masculinity. After 12 years since leaving my abuser, and with age, I see things differently, but surely scars always remain. The thing about DV for men is that society, a big part at least, discard DV as reason why a husband would end a marriage with a wife. I guess the gossip of extramarital affairs has more of a ring than people confronting the ugly truth that a woman, and a charming one at social gatherings, can be abusive, mean, and violent. Without going into the long history of violence pre-marriage, as early as maybe the first six months of going out, I got delivered my first black eye in an elevator. Now I can laugh at it - picture having a heated argument with your girlfriend, you walk out towards the elevator, as you wait you hear footsteps approaching you, the elevator opens, you turn your back towards the footsteps and see you girlfriend, and think, she’s come around and maybe ready to talk. Instead, youre delivered a punch to your eye that pushes you to the back of the elevator, and the doors closed as you’re thinking what the hell just happened. The complexity of my story is that by the time I decided to leave her, 12 years after the elevator incident, there were 2 small children involved, a 3 and half little boy, and a couple of months old girl. Leaving your children is the must gut wrenching thing that any parent has to deal with. There was a certain stigma attached… why? Why did he leave this poor woman with two small children - he is a monster, untrustworthy, cheater, what kind of man would do that? And these were not comments for strangers, in some cases, they came from colleagues, ‘friends’. Truth is that it took many attempts. The defining one, surprisingly came for my little boy. In one of the final fights, my little one intervened. He stepped in, took me out of the room by the hand, took me to the living room and in his imperfect language told me that ‘mommy is angry right now, so stay here, but then she will be ok’. I will never forget the bravery of this boy to stop his mother from hitting his father. As I cried in the sofa, something inside me snapped. I would not allow my little boy, and infant girl, to see that kind of DV ever. That would be the last time, or so, that I would be abused. We separated, she moved to the US to her parents with the children. In that year I visited frequently. After a year she came back to the country where I was stationed, seeking reconciliation for the benefit of the children. I had moved on. Incredibly, I had met an incredible person who took what I call the most significant gamble in history - a leap of faith. She took a broken man and gave so much care and love, that I actually began to erase so much numbness. In the years that have passed, I’ve had so much time to reflect. To put it simply, no body ever should feel that there is no way out, even though it would seem that way. When I was in the deep end of things, I remember thinking that I was in this deep hole, but the only person in the world that could take me out of there was the person who put me there in the first place. That’s the thing about abusers, they hurt you, but after, they try to make it up doing things that you mistake for love and care - let me make you a chicken soup so you feel better. Or, you made me do this to you, but let me go get ice so your face doesn’t swell. In hindsight, I should have spoken more, be less ashamed. I feel I did not counter sufficiently the narrative that was put forth by my ex-wife. The narrative that I left her for another person, and that I never wanted kids, therefore, thats why I fled the home. The reality is that the impact of leaving the children was the heaviest toll that to this day I carry. After three court cases, in three countries, and a joint custody, I finally have a peace of mind that the children, now teens, are ok, and that seeing them happy, truly happy, and doing well at school and socially might have been a sacrifice worth taking. Their mother was never violent towards them, or at least not in a physical manner. Some takeaways: 1. There are signs, there are always signs. Do not ignore them as you begin entering more serious stages of relationships.. As one lady said to me one day on the street, when she witnessed my girlfriend hitting me. ‘If she hits you now, wait until youre married’. 2. Confided in family and friends, and listen to them! They know you better than perhaps, when youre young, you know yourself. After I got divorced, some school friends came to me and said…. Really? You thought that would work? 3. Be honest with yourself. You know if something is wrong. If there are red flags. Be honest with yourself. 4. Importantly, there are many people in the world and there is a special one that is willing to place all her/his chips to bet on you. You shouldn’t feel cornered and that you will face eternal loneliness once you leave your abuser, no matter how many times they will say that to you. 5. It is better to be alone than being in an unhealthy relationship. Your mental health will thank you for it. 6. Lastly, leaving an abuser is not an act of cowardice, throwing the towel, it’s an act of love, to yourself!

I was in an abusive relationship for 12 years. I met him when I was fourteen and we came together when I was fifteen. He was nice and lovely and I fell in love with him. I never thought that he could have a dark side. After a few month I began to realize, that there is something inside him. When we had our first fight, he screamed with me and I had so much fear. He apologized and I forgived him. But: It didn‘t stopped. He was verbal abusive. He said that I am a whore. He made me feeling small and like I am the worst person in the world. He said, that I am a psycho. He said I am a joke. He said I am nothing. He said, that he has to talk and scream with me like this, because I don‘t understand his points otherwise. He began to destroy things like my watch or a necklace. The walls had holes and he often grabbed me at my shoulders very hard when he got angry. When I cried, he became angrier at all. I locked myself in the toilet because I had so much fear of him. He also pushed me at the asphalt when he was drunk sometimes. I had bruises. One time he choked me. I never told anybody what happend, because I always forgived him and felt so fucking guilty. I tried to left him, but he always said, that he will kill himself, when I go. I went to therapy but even there I was so ashamed, that I didn‘t talk about the abuse. After two years of therapy I got stronger and stronger. I was ready to talk to somebody about the things that happend to me and that I want to leave him. Suddenly I felt free and was ready to go. He always said, that he loves me and that I am the love of his life. It never was love. I realized that I was in an abusive relationship. There were verbal, emotional and physical abuse. I didn't imagine any of it. I wasn't crazy. Whoever is reading this and is in a similar situation: You are strong! You are intelligent! You are beautiful! You are a good person! You can trust yourself! You can talk to someone! You can do this! You can leave him! You are a wonderful human being! I love you all out there and send you hugs. We have to share our stories and we are allowed to share them. Together we can change something.

Emotional and psychological abuse is abuse, even if it’s invisible to other people. I spent years ashamed of what was happening to me, thinking no one would believe me if I spoke up, because there were no visible scars. But I’m here to say, for anyone else going through this: You deserve more. Your kids deserve more. You deserve to be seen. You deserve to be heard. I will not be invisible anymore. I will not be quiet. We’re in this together. Sending love.💕

I joined the army getting it drilled in my head and cursed at and belittled for months about INTEGRITY ARMY VALUES RESPECT all to just live with trauma and disappointment by leadership who failed me and soldiers who took advantage. From serving with two separate units, both were gut wrenching anytime I had to be present and oh did they make sure that I was. Joining the Army is my biggest disappointment and hardest anger from healing to overcome. Please pray for me.

I am going to share my story of abuse through my victim impact statement written for the 1/9 violation on my order for protection that he was charged for. My name is NameI met Name 2 on Date. I fell in love with him easily and quickly, he paid attention to things that I struggled with or lacked and swept me off my feet. This was all part of his process, the extreme love bombing. The abuse started almost immediately. He accused me of cheating on him. He told me I was not to talk to my ex husband and co parent because that was me wanting to be with my ex and eventually the abuse became physical as well. I soon found out Name 2was hiring prostitutes, doing cocaine and drinking alcohol most every day. The control started small, little accusations, expectations of read notifications on texts and location sharing, things I didn’t mind because I never had anything to hide. He used them to his advantage so I wouldn’t catch him and what he was doing and I was so swept into the image he wanted me to see and believe, that I missed the signs of abuse. It wasn’t till a year and a half into the relationship that I found out his control was a way to keep me in the dark about his own life, yet I forgave him and gave him another chance with the declarations of love and apologies. But then the abuse became worse, he tracked how much shaving cream I would use; he yelled and screamed at me and verbally abused me; he frequently pushed me and even pushed me down the stairs onto the basement concrete; he locked me out of the house with nothing and nowhere to go, etc. I moved in with him because it seemed the only way I would know if he was being faithful. Obviously I was wrong because that man has never been faithful one day in his life to anyone. He became so over bearing and he accused me of all kinds of things. I was fired from a previous employer for recording my meetings because I did not know how else to prove to him I was not cheating on him. Name 2told me his issues began early on with abuse from his birth mother and watching her do drugs and selling her body (his sister was raped so I am assuming he was as well), to then moving in with his father and watching him physically, mentally and emotionally abuse his step mother, himself and his brother and alcohol. Name 2began drinking at the mere age of 8, smoking shortly thereafter, the cocaine use began around age 20 and the use of prostitutes to the best of my knowledge started around age 36. He told me he drove his father home drunk before he was even old enough to have a permit. He can drink over 36 beers and still drive his car straight, he drinks everyday., I was a witness to it. His relationship with his family is toxic and strained- he holds his children as bait over his parents to make them do what he wants or they cannot see them. He threatens to hit his dad. Once when I was with him at his parents home in Location he drove over their fence, destroying it. On the ride home that night he told me that one of the two of us was going to die. There is honestly nothing good to say about Name 2 he evades taxes, doesn’t pay for his possessions and has had 2/3 of his vehicle repossessed in the last 5 months, abuses his family, friends, girlfriends and children, he steals, lies and cheats and is a drain on everyone he meets and society itself. Though, this is about my Order for Protection and the violations and why I am terrified of Name 2 and why I never want him to see me or my children ever again. When I became pregnant, with a pregnancy we planned together might I add, his violence, drinking and abuse multiplied ten fold. As you can see in my order for protection he attempted to kill my then unborn son multiple times each time stating he didn’t care if the baby lived or died. He pushed me, strangled me, hit me in the face with a phone and knocked me unconscious, he would call me terrible awful names, hit me and take my phone to prevent me from calling the police for help. It is a miracle that my baby and I are even alive to tell this tale and ask for Name 2to finally see consequences for his actions. Though Name 3 lived, he did not come out unscathed from the abuse he endured while in utero, Name 3 has kidney issues due to Name 2'scocaine use (as cocaine attaches itself to semen and causes birth defects) and the mental, emotional and physical abuse I endured while pregnant with him. It is still unknown if his kidney will heal or if he will need surgery. I filed my order for protection because Name 2had me lie through my teeth with promises of change and love and how he would go to treatment and be the man I deserved for our family in order to get the Danco dropped that the state filed when I called the police on him on Date 2 I also wanted to ensure that my order for protection included Jaxton. As Name 2tried to kill him many times while I was pregnant with him and though the Danco was altered to allow him at the birth he couldn’t stay sober or straight long enough to be there for me and the baby when he was “needed”. After Name 3 was born he called his ears funny looking, asked why he had a birth mark on his face- said he’ll never get laid with that, punched himself in the head to show dominance over me while holding him and when I told him to give Name 3 back to me he pushed me backwards into a patio door. Neither one of us was safe anywhere near him and I thank you for granting our Order for Protection. Now I ask that you punish him for violating it. I am not the first woman he has abused, stolen from, cheated on and ruined emotionally and mentally and I will not be the last. I live my life everyday in fear of him, I see black Tahoes and have panic attacks and attend therapy weekly. This “man” should be charged with attempted murder and actually face the ramifications for his actions. He has 2 older children that are hurting so incredibly bad and are angry and scared of him and do not know how to react or behave with what they are dealing with and now he his living with a new woman already and she has a riddled past with drug convictions and has a 3 year old living with them. He gets more and more violent with every relationship, in mine he attempted to kill my unborn child, what will he do in this one? Actually kill her? And if you follow the pattern that he has experienced in all his years abusing women he will only feel more invincible to do whatever he wants. I filed my order for protection for peace of mind and though you the prosecutor could go after him for MULTIPLE violations they are only seeking one. I am pleading with you to see the evidence that he knowingly violated not once, but multiple times! Even asking in a different violation for me not to call the police. This “man” has never seen consequences for his actions and thus had not changed a thing. This is also not the first OFP for Domestic Violence against Name 2 I ask that you give him with the utmost charge of jail time. There he needs to seek therapy, anger management and rehabilitation for all his addictions. I also ask that he be charged with all of these violations to do so and that if you do place a new DANCO that it include my son Name 3to protect us both. I was strangled multiple times in this relationship and kept from calling the police or for help. Strangulation is a felony conviction all on it’s own and preventing me for calling for help is a misdemeanor that can carry up to one year in jail. I have a recording of him taking my phone and not allowing me to call for help and also admitting to hitting me. This “man” needs to face real repercussions and consequences for his actions and all of his victims deserve peace of mind and a good nights sleep knowing he’s where he belongs- in jail. Help me keep not only myself safe but my child as well. Thank you.

Ten days after my daughterX discharge from the hospital, where she had undergone brain surgeries for epilepsy, X was resting in her bedroom and my ex-husband asked me to help him buy something online. I said no (very unusual but I was fixing something for X. to eat) and he exploded, throwing hot coffee on me then trashing the kitchen. And for the first time, a light bulb went on in my mind. The light said, "This is going to stop." Once he saw that something fundamental had changed inside me - that I was indeed serious - he escalated his tactics week by week. We had been married for almost 20 years, and he was absolutely incredulous that I was leaving him. All he knew how to do in response was more assault, more threats, more stalking, more financial theft. He was out of his mind. At one point he stood on the steps outside our house screaming "Why didn't you abort the kids?" over and over. For about 6-8 months I'm pretty sure he was considering doing a murder/suicide. I had to leave everything behind to get away - the home, friends, my job. I sold everything of value that I owned. Since I had grown up in a home of domestic violence, I didn't understand it very well, even as I was being victimized. I didn't know that shoving someone, kicking someone, and throwing objects or hot liquid at someone are all against the law. I didn't know that insults, name-calling, and coercive sex aren't part of normal relationships. I didn't know how dishonest my ex-husband was (and is).

As I was saying I am happy where I am now I don't know where my abuser is Initial as I called him The abuse was horrible I really didn't know where to turn who I could tell bc if I call the pd he threatened to hit himself to make it look like I was the abuser That meant if he went to jail so did I I was afraid of his friends especially the female friends they hated me I didn't drink or do drugs so I was boring I was even more afraid of his brothers they were more aggressive than Initial was ...my kids (not his ) hated him the feeling was mutual...I just hated his guts I was trapped in a relationship I didn't want to be in He stole from me and when I went on unemployment he took that too I was his slave at everything when I didn't want to be intimate he'd accuse me of cheating I went to women's shelter and he found me I was followed by the time I was ready to leave I found myself wanting him to just end my life he threatened to every day and I would challenge him but he didn't do it bc he was a pussy

For years, I lived through something no one should ever have to go through. It started when I was young, and the person who hurt me was someone I was supposed to trust, my stepfather. He was supposed to protect me, but instead, he took advantage of me in the worst way. Growing up, I thought my stepfather was someone I could trust. He was supposed to be part of my family, someone who would keep me safe. But instead, he became the person who hurt me the most. The abuse started when I was just a little girl, too young to understand what was happening. It began with small things, touches that felt wrong, words that made me uncomfortable. But over time, it became something much worse. It happened mostly at night, when everyone else was asleep. I’d wake up to the sound of the door creaking open, and my heart would start racing. I’d pretend to be asleep, hoping he would leave, but he never did. He would sit on the edge of my bed, and I could feel his weight pressing down on me. I would lie there, frozen, too scared to move or say anything. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to make it stop. I just wanted it to be over. Sometimes, he would wait until my mom was at work or when she traveled. Those were the worst times because I knew no one was coming to save me. I would hear his footsteps in the hallway, and my stomach would twist into knots. I would try to hide, to make myself small, but it didn’t matter. He always found me. He would come into my room, and I would feel so helpless, so alone. I wanted to scream, to run away, but I was too scared. I didn’t know what would happen if I tried to stop him. I hated myself for not being able to fight back. I hated myself for not being brave enough to tell someone. But I was just a kid. I didn’t know how to protect myself. I didn’t know how to make it stop. I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. The worst part was the silence. I couldn’t tell my mom. I was too scared of what would happen if I did. What if she didn’t believe me? What if she blamed me? What if it made things worse? I didn’t want to hurt her, and I didn’t want to tear our family apart. So I kept it all inside. I carried the weight of my secret every day, and it felt like I was drowning. The pain and shame were too much to carry. All I thought about was committing suicide just to end it all, so that I wouldn’t feel the weight of what was happening to me. I felt dirty, broken, and like I didn’t deserve to live. I thought if I was gone, the pain would stop, and maybe everyone else would be better off without me. But somehow, I kept going. I don’t know how, but I did. I found little things to hold onto—a friend, a book, a song, anything that made me feel even a tiny bit okay. It took years, but I finally told someone what happened. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but it was also the first step toward healing. I’m still healing now. Some days are better than others. I still have nightmares, and I still struggle with trusting people. But I’m learning to be kind to myself, to remind myself that what happened wasn’t my fault. I didn’t deserve it, and I’m not defined by it. If you’ve been through something like this, please know you’re not alone. It’s not your fault, and you deserve to be heard and supported. Healing is possible, even when it feels like it’s not. You are stronger than you think, and your story isn’t over yet. You don’t have to carry this weight alone anymore. It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to let someone in. You are not broken, and you are not defined by what happened to you. You are so much more than that.

Good Day Everyone Reading and Thinking His Projection is Yours, The first thing that I think of is you are stronger than you know, smarter than your thought, and just a better person than the person that abused you. I come from a 30 year marriage to a sociopathic narcissist. There is good news in all this, there was 3 beautiful brillant successful 4.0 children out of it (a police officer, engineer, and systems engineer), and a 4.0 masters degree myself (in behavior analysis). However, it was a rediculously dangerous learning experience that was placed on me on my children from the systems that are suppose to protect you. I want all persons reading this to understand in full, first the domestic violence posters and numbers in every bathroom identify to call for help. But please, first identify all aspects around you, who and what your abuser is capable of, what the behavior and severity of that behavior is before your call, reach out or request a piece of paper called a restraining order. This is only paper and does not protect you or your children from being dead. Only you identifying your danger and safeguarding this protects your children and you from being dead. One thinks in a deceiving fashion that law enforcement interprets all laws the same and enforces them the same. This is not true. Many missing administrative oversights and quality assurance measures are not in place. Please also know, he can track your email addresses, your car, your phone, your job, your purchases, even via your kids. Departments are relying on 'good people' verses data specific quality measures which can allow the perpetrator to triangulate the law, state agencies, your family, friends, your profession, your job, to be inadvertantely controlled by them. My story began 30 years ago with small accounts on yelling, following me to my job, manipulating my friends and family, and extreme jeliousy about every accomplishment I made. To summarize, he began slowly, following to me job after each degree, manipulating my employees/hr, my friends/family. He even went so far as to turn in two states into CMS to try to shut down 2 ICF/IDD facilities. Within this time, black eyes were weekly normals, I once wore a baseball helmet to bed to help, locking me in my car/garage, holding me prisoner. holding my kids and family prisoner until he got what he wanted (generally money) was the norm. So many police reports were filed, restraining orders, one year restraining orders were in place. However, please know this is up the individual officers perceived knowledge, interpretation and experience and DA's not any identifiable interpretation of the law (although the federal law is the overreaching protective safeguard). To make a long story short, in 2012 I had a 500,000 life insurance policy and he hired a hit on my life to occur with a car accident which he pre-planned the 'lunch date' many months in advance. This occurred after I placed my first reporting to police of his abuse and he was arrested. After this, all episodes of aggression towards me included strangulation and attempts to place all his weight to crush my trachia. The second visible attempt, came one day in 2013/2014 when I arrived at work early one morning, and he drove by my nitro and fired a few rounds into the back of my vehicle. He then launched a full social smear campaign and he began to contact my supervisors, peers, entire state dd providers, and engaged his sister to do the same us wide to harrass, embarrass and ruin me as he so threatened daily to do. The third attempt to kill me involved him and his sister crafting a car accident which occurred that resulted in killing another women. This also involved the quite angered threat of a jeep, which was saved my life in the first crash he attempted to kill me in and is now mis-using the law to obtain money from. The bottom line is, take your kids, plan a new life and LEAVE NOW!!!!!!!. Protect and respect yourself your children. These types of persons are sociopaths and what they do does not make any form of common sense or beliefs. They are criminals and will not stop until they harm you and your kids. This man met me at the age of 5 in a chance encounter and I am still running away from him at the age of 48. Center yourself, get trauma therapy, keep your center and re-build yourself/life/children's future. God bless everyone that has been through these types of situations and god bless all that are going through this. Please know that there are people that believe in you and want nothing more than your success and beautiful brillant future of your children. You've got this!!! Please find knowledge and information helpful for your future success. God Bless!!!!

At 19 years old and away from home for the first time…I thought I was in love. I married someone I barely knew. I met him at Military Training, and we got stationed in the same city. I wanted a wedding, but he did not so we ended up at the Justice of the Peace. This was one of the first of many things I did to compromise. Shortly after we were married, his true colors started showing. Slowly, I was isolated, moved away from all my friends and family. I could not do anything right. Everything was my fault. No matter how hard I tried it was never good enough. He forced me to watch pornography and forced me to do things sexually that I had not consented to. Yes, a spouse can rape their spouse. I was called all sorts of names, mocked, belittled, insulted, and worse. It was mostly behind closed doors; however, some was done in public. We would only hang out with my friends and family when he wanted to put on a show. At one point he moved his “friend” in with us because she had nowhere to go. After being diagnosed with an STD, I learned she was one of many women that he cheated on me with. She was his mistress in every sense of the word. At some point I lost who I was and began to think I was exactly who he said I was…worthless, ugly, and nothing. I was living in a fog. I could not make sense of my feelings or thoughts. I had no idea what to do to make him happy because no matter how much I tried to do what I thought he said he wanted it was never right. I attempted suicide which surprised my family, friends, and co-workers because I had never said a word. I had been able to put on a smile and always help others during the workday. No one knew the verbal, emotional or sexual abuse I endured at home. After my suicide attempt my family, and the few friends that still stood by me tried to get me to leave. I refused to leave. I was insistent that could make my marriage work. If I only tried harder. If I were only the person, he wanted me to be. Then, out of the blue, he was arrested, court-martialed, and sent to military prison (on matters unrelated to the marriage). I still tried to make things work. I would go visit him in jail, take care of our home, pay the bills, and try to be a “good wife”. One day he called asking for things he wanted. When I told him that I had not bought the requested items because I was looking for a part-time job to pay the bills (we had mounds of debt thanks to him), he called me “undependable”. It was in that moment I finally realized I deserved more. I yelled into the phone “You’re right; I’m undependable!” and hung up the phone. I then took off my engagement and wedding rings and proceeded to throw them across the living room into the kitchen where they came to rest under the washer and dryer. The next day I contacted a lawyer and within a few weeks we were divorced. We had been married for one year and four months and had known each other for one year and nine months. In less than two years this man had broken me to the point that I no longer knew who I was and kept me from making new friends at my duty assignment. The only friends I had at this point were some old friends from high school that I did not see often but they refused to be pushed away. His actions caused me to spiral into a pit of depression so severe that I thought the only answer (or way out) was to take my own life. Throughout my first marriage, I had a friend who told my first ex-husband to back off and that he was going to stay my friend no matter what. He kept his word and continued to always be there for me during my marriage. When I told him, I was getting divorced, he took leave and came to stay with me for a week so he could be in the courtroom with me during the divorce hearing. 2 years and 7 months later this friend and I were married. Like my first husband, I also met him at military training. Our whole relationship had been long distance except for the few months at military training and that one week during my divorce. We spent the first year of marriage apart waiting for the military to station us together. We got pregnant the first weekend we were finally living together. Once we were living together, his true personality quickly emerged. He was always on the computer due to video games and/or pornography. He could not be bothered to help if he was on the computer. He would yell when he was not happy. I called to say I was in premature labor with our child and he did not come to the hospital. Once the baby arrived, I would ask for help, but he could not be bothered because he was busy. As time went on, the yelling, silent treatment, name calling, not helping around the house, and just ignoring me only seemed to get worse. Then he got deployed. I discovered he was having at minimum one online affair and saying all sorts of hateful and nasty things about me. I confronted him, and he acted like it was not a big deal. I felt differently. It was a big deal to me, so I left. I filed for a divorce. He spent months sweet talking me until I foolishly took him back. At this point we were now both out of the military. We bought a house, and he went to school. I worked full-time, tried to go school, and took care of the house and our child. He still seldom helped with anything. I had to pay for childcare because our child bothered him while he was doing his schoolwork. The name calling, silent treatments and ignoring only got worse. I noticed he was punishing our child in ways that were not appropriate for a toddler and expecting things beyond a toddler’s capability. I started having panic attacks when I pulled into the garage after work because I did not know which personality I was going to meet when I walked in the house: Mr. Happy or Mr. Angry. His behavior after we moved in together did not match the behavior of the friend who was there for me during my first marriage; he had changed – or had he? He stopped telling me how much he loved me and how much he needed me and proceeded to tear me down or not talk to me at all. I had reached that all too familiar point where I was again in a fog and not sure what to do because everything, I did was wrong…unless he wanted something. I felt like I was walking on eggshells at home all the time. I remember he said something to me at a store one day and a woman made eye contact with me…her look said, “Honey, just say the word and I will help you escape”. I just quickly looked away. The final straw was coming home from work one day and finding my usually very active child sitting very still on the couch. When I asked what was wrong, my child said, “Daddy slapped across both cheeks for playing in some mud with the dog.” I confronted him and told him he had three choices: get help, leave or I was calling the police. He chose to leave and blame me for making him “poor and homeless”. Seven months after we separated, we were divorced. We had been married for eight years and ten months. We had known each other for ten years and seven months. He had gone from being one of my best friends to a total stranger who left me feeling even more empty and broken than my first husband had. It is hard to put into words the slow way both individuals managed to tear me down to nothing, to the point that I felt like I had nothing left to live for. Unlike my first marriage, the second time it was not just me. I had to protect my child. Both used verbal and emotional abuse to slowly control me and make me feel like nothing, make me question my sanity, and make me believe I was a complete idiot and loser. One of them used sex as a weapon for his pleasure and another withheld touch of any kind knowing that it is one of my Love Languages. Both could be kind when it suited them to make them look good or to get what they wanted. Thanks to both of these individuals I now know gaslighting, love bombing, flying monkeys, triangulation, projection, threats (both threatened to kill me), trauma-bonding and more are all part of a Narcissist’s play book. It was not me who was crazy or not worthy. They used these tools to get what they wanted and then tossed me to the side when I was no longer needed. Now that I know what these actions and terms mean I have been able to educate myself on how to recognize the signs, heal from the trauma and reach a point where I am able to share my story of survival. I had no idea who I was, what I liked, how to live a happy life or how to be strong. I could put on a good show for the outside world, or so I thought. I have since learned that my family and close friends could tell things were wrong. They were praying for me and standing close for when I finally reached out for help. When I look back over both marriages, I see God’s hand in them, and I know that it is because of Him that I am still here to tell my story. My first ex-husband walked in on me with the pills in hand and a razor blade at my wrist. For all the bad he did God used him to save my life by having him walk-in at that exact moment. He reported me to the military thinking it would get me in trouble but instead it saved my career and my life. His going to jail allowed me to get away. During my second marriage I can honestly say that the only reason I was able to get away is truly a miracle. I believe the prayers of my loved ones were answered by giving me a strength that came only from God, allowing me to stand up to him and give him those three choices after he slapped our child. How did I escape and repair my spirit? How did I find me again and become happy, strong, out-going, courageous, stand my ground, and know my own worth? I did it through the mercy, forgiveness, and love of God. I have spent hours in prayer and bible study. I have gone to Christian based counseling. I have shared my story with others. It has been a long road to recovery, but I know now I am a child of God and I am worth more than what those two individuals did to me. I will never settle again. Never settle for less than you are worth. You are worth more than all the rubies and diamonds in the world. You are His child. You are loved. You are beautiful. You are strong. You can. You will Survive.