Community

I got out of an abusive relationship. It wasn’t till I left there was physical abuse and emotional abuse. Even if the physical was minimal. I’m so glad to be apart of a group of women who are healing. Healing is hard, it’s been countless sleepless nights, extra periods, and nightmares over and over. But the reward of being free is so much better than anything I could’ve imagined. I don’t wish to ever be back in that, and am glad I left every day

Healing is saying the secrets that you hid from the rest the world so you could get up, put up, and never give up. Healing is not lying to yourself anymore by saying, "Everything is fine." Healing is giving yourself the time to process the myriad of emotions that came flooding in when you finally left your abuser. Healing is forgiving yourself for the choices you made. Healing is not believing all the derogatory things you were called to control you and make you question your worth. Healing is telling yourself that you are strong enough to survive on your own, "You got this." Healing is taking responsibility for any pain or suffering you caused your child to endure because you were too afraid of what would happen if you tried to leave. Healing is finding gratitude in all that you do have. Healing is finding a way to help others that have experienced trauma bonds. Healing is knowing that you deserves to experience unconditional love... Healing is a journey that can help you appreciate living in the moment.

Children are impressionable. Seeing your sibling mimic the aggressive behavior their parents do to each other and to us can make it seem okay for adults to act like this. Being the punching bag in the family is exhausting. If the parent doesn’t speak to the child that this isn’t okay behavior how will the child ever learn to not behave in this manner? South Asian culture has normalized domestic abuse and violence for so long it’s actually insane when you go to look at tv shows or movies. I can’t wait to move out and leave this toxic environment that I grew up in. Once I establish my career in nursing, I’m packing my bags.

I saw the movie tonight with my little sister. We grew up together in an abusive home, everything that Lily’s father did to her mom, our father did to ours (and even worse). He sometimes did those things to us too. From the fact that he’s still portrayed as a beloved father to many, I found consolation in the movie tonight. I realised that I’m not that child anymore, I’m safe now and most importantly, I can stop swimming now. And you also, my little sister, we can both stop swimming now. I love you.

My ex-husband verbally, sexually, mentally and physically abused me during our marriage. He tried to force me to have sex with others for money and luckily I was able to prevent that from happening; but not with out consequence. A miscarriage during our marriage forced me to see a therapist and working with her for almost two years gave me the strength to leave. It’s been over 25 years since I left and I still live with PTSD stemming from the abuse. I have since remarried and have two teenage children. They were little I have always talked to them about what a healthy relationship is, how to recognize potentially abusive behavior and to say “NO MORE”. My kids talk to their friends about what they have learned at home. I speak about IPV/DV to youth groups and to their advisors about what to look for, how to deal with and provide resources for help. I will continue to say “NO MORE” until the day comes when we don’t have to say it.

I would like to help women ( or men) learn that you can overcome the difficulty of leaving Domestic Violence and start life , in my case, for the 1st time I was "married" for 20 years in the DV and have been out for 13 years. It is a difficult process, but worth the effort to give yourself your life.

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.💕

Growing up the idea of a husband (or a partner of any kind) being forceful with their partner was romanticized everywhere. Luke and Laura on General Hospital were portrayed as this grand romance, all the while knowing there was a rape in their history. So when my now ex-husband started forcing me to have sex when I wasn’t in the mood and was physically in pain right after I had had a miscarriage, and continued afterwards, I had this misguided belief that it was acceptable and just part of a relationship. It wasn’t until I finally reached out for help due to depression and anxiety, after years living as an alcoholic to try to self medicate other abuse trauma, that she helped me grasp I had been repeatedly raped and sexually assaulted on top of being physically and emotionally abused. Coming to terms with this finally helped me understand there was a root to my unhealthy relationship with sex. Grasping that no, it wasn’t OK and just something that happened to be forced. The change in the way these things have been seen and portrayed has also helped me find a better balance within. I’ve survived that trauma, and lived to see marital rape removed from the rape penal code exemption. Taking back my power over my life afterwards has been difficult, but I’m still here. I can still help others. No More!

I am a cis-gender, woman. For as long as I can remember, I have identified as bisexual. I was never "closeted", but I did grow up in the mid-Atlantic suburbs in the '70s, so having a girlfriend who was anything more than a "buddy" wasn't even available to me. In fact, it wasn't until 1973 that homosexuality was removed from the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM). So I didn't grow up thinking that I could ever act on my feelings for women. As I matured, I dabbled a little bit, but not anything fulfilling. My longing for sexual intimacy with a woman increased in intensity once I hit peri-menopause. At a certain stage in my adult life, I found myself obsessing 24/7 about having a sexual relationship with a woman. That day came when I ran into someone from my past - someone whom I knew was gay - someone to whom I had a strong, physical attraction that was so unbearable, it nearly drove me mad. Seriously. I still question whether I was in my right mind when we were together because in hindsight, I tolerated behavior from her that was incredibly abusive and abnormal, just so I could get laid. Because in the beginning, the sex was great. The first time we kissed, my head almost exploded. And when we finally had sex, I felt as if the whole world came to a stop, and I realized that THIS IS WHAT HAD BEEN MISSING FROM MY LIFE! But, just as adolescents confuse chemical changes associated with sex with love, so did I. When she gazed into my eyes and told me that she had always loved me, I believed her. It felt magical. I was enchanted. And, I thought that I was in love with her too. The abuse started a few months after we began "dating". I put that word in quotes, because she was so closeted that we didn't dare hold hands in public or get caught kissing. (By the way, her reaction to getting "caught" was SO extreme, that she violently pushed me away with both hands, the day her landlord caught me hugging her goodbye, as he took out the garbage.) We were in the car, driving home from a day of hanging out in the city. Much of her abuse happened in the car because there, I was a captive audience who couldn't escape her ranting, raving, screaming, punching the door, the windshield, throwing things … We'd both had too much to drink that day, she had flirted with someone else (as she always did, I realize now in hindsight), words were exchanged between us about the incident, and she flew into a rage. She punched the car's rearview mirror so hard that it snapped off and flew across the car, missing my face by inches. I sat mutely in shock, frightened because we were in a moving vehicle on a major highway. It was then that I should have ended it. It was then that I should have seen her for who she really was, rather than who I was dreaming she could be. It was then that I realized that something didn't feel good about 'this" anymore. I stayed with her for 5 more years, during which time she trapped me in the car with abusive tantrums regularly. That night was just a preview! During the on again / off again time that we were together, she made grand, romantic promises to me about a life together; living in a nice house, all the money she was going to make, blah, blah, blah. In her next breath, she would berate ME for not making enough money, for not having more important or more interesting friends. She taunted me for not being - as she put it - "a spectacular fuck". And - more than once - she put me down for having had sex with men before we met. Or as she put it, "All the dick you sucked before we met". This, despite the fact that she had undergone two abortions (after having unprotected, reckless sex with men of course) and that she constantly flirted with them when we were out. She also bragged to me about her former lovers (all of whom had either died or cut her out their lives completely). She was homophobic. She said that she hated being gay, and that she hated me for being gay. She would insist that I wasn't gay at all. "You're just a straight chick who gets off on fucking women", she said to me. A laughable statement, because THIS is what turned HER on! I was not the first woman that she believed she had "turned", despite my protests that I am and always have been, bisexual. She delusionally thought that she had some kind of special power to turn straight women gay. She would have melt-downs any time that I wanted us to be a visible couple, insisted that I could not "come out" - even though we traveled to places that were gay friendly, had gay friends and that we WERE gay. The emotional abuse increased in frequency, but took place in secrecy, so I had nowhere to turn. I began to live with a knot in my stomach and depression started to take over my life to the point where I not only lost my identity, but I lost my desire to live. The secrecy that she forced me into kept her abuse of me a secret too, even from our mutual friends. Each time that I tried to break up with her, those big, fat, alligator tears would start. For me, that's really hard to take from a woman. I've seen men cry, but HER tears sucked me back in every time. Sucked. That's a good word for it, on many levels. She was sucking the life out of me and I was the sucker who fell for her lies, every time I tried to break it off. She reeled me back in each time, like a fish on a hook. One day, as she stood in my kitchen berating me once again, immediately after I had taken her on another miserable vacation where all she did was put me down, I finally snapped. "Get the fuck out" I said. My calm tone must have really frightened her, because she left. Finally. I'd had enough mental and emotional abuse. There was nothing wrong with me and yet, she berated me and criticized me constantly. I had gained weight, I had lost friends, my own family didn't recognize me anymore. "Your attention span is so short, maybe fingerpaints would be good for you!" She actually SAID this to me! This is how she treated me. Constantly. But I stayed with her, for the promise of what I thought we might have. Promises that she filled my head with, in bed when we had sex. Sex, that she slowly began to use as a weapon of control and manipulation over me. She withheld physical affection, flirted with other women, and treated me like shit. Then, in the very next breath, she would suggest that we open a joint bank account, "For our future", she said with a warm smile and a sparkle in her eye. Thankfully, I never fell for that lie. I've always worked hard for my money, and I wasn't going to share it with someone who turned out to be a fucking monster, a liar, and an imposter. I already suffered from PTSD, and she preyed upon it. It increased in intensity while we were together. When I met her, I was a very pretty, self-confident woman in great physical shape. My years with my abuser turned me into an overweight, anxious, angry, depressed person who trusts no one, and drinks too much alcohol. Therapy and breathing techniques help, along with a prescription for Xanax that I take occasionally, but I still feel shame over having stayed in an abusive relationship for so long. I'm not a mental health professional, nor do I think it's appropriate for any layperson to "diagnose" someone (some of those "professionals" shouldn't either, by the way), but several personality disorders come to mind when I think of her such as ... Narcissistic … Histrionic … Borderline … even bipolar. In closing, I despise her and what she did to me. I'm glad that I finally rid my life of her, even though she tried several more times to weasle her way back in. I will always HATE her … but I'm beginning to love myself again.

Six years have passed, since fleeing the abuse. No one prepares you for the struggles your mind goes through consciously and subconsciously. Almost everyone you meet along your healing journey does not understand, nor know how to navigate your emotions and actions. Expected to just move forward and put all psychological abuse in the past. Folks who knew you before the abuse, expect you to snap back to reality. For many like myself, snapping back to reality was a sense of being stuck in auto pilot. On the outside, working to please those around me. Not knowing who I was, hobbies or interests. I began my journey an empty shell. My emotions and actions scrambled. Struggled with mind numbing substance, became evident to me, that was not a solution. A couple years after, still struggling with waking night sweats and the same nightmare playing over and over. I set out on a mission to help myself help others. I discovered I was not alone through the different platforms. I began writing out all the difficult memories, using just a notebook, and any writing utensil available. Some years have since passed. Beginning my personal journey, has liberated me and I discovered how beautiful I truly am and how complex the healing journey truly can be. I do not have the nightmares anymore and I am the strongest I have ever been in my adult life. I have been empowered through self awareness. While documenting my experiences, I have learned how to write more than just my name. I am still learning how to speak to people. And everyday since, I set out to help others overcome their nightmares as well. It took some time to realize the grass on this side is breath taking and in a positive way.

I was with a man i thought was my forever he turned abusive 1 year in we were together for 11 years before I got out I had 3 kids with him and kept telling my self it was my falut he was verbal physical mental and sexual abusive

If you are reading this please know you are not alone. When I was 15 years old and had just gotten back from eating disorder treatment, I was lonely, lost, and vulnerable. I had zero sexual experience, in fact I had never had my first kiss yet. One night I went to a small party, and drank a lot without knowing my limits because I had never drank before. Long story short, I blacked out and only remember bits and pieces of the night. Unfortunately I have a few memories that I can never forget. A completely sober boy came to the party and ended up taking advantage of me. I remember waking up the next day in pain and I found blood all over my shorts. I convinced myself I asked for that to happen and it was my fault. As much as it disgust me to say, I even felt somewhat special that anybody would even find me attractive enough to have sex with. I was confused and didn’t understand. A lot happened after that night and I ultimately felt like a used piece of trash that had already been thrown out. It took me awhile to understand what had really happened to me. I’ve been working on my healing journey for years since that night, but still find myself struggling constantly. I still sometimes question if maybe I’m just being dramatic and im the only one to blame for what happened. I know deep down that’s not true, but it’a a difficult thing to process. Honestly, I am angry. I’m angry that this boy has never and will never take accountability and that he gets to live a life without the trauma and pain I feel everyday. I feel heartbroken for myself and all other victims who have experienced SA. My ultimate goal in sharing my story is that at least one person can relate and feel less lonely. I want them to realize that what happened to them is not their fault and I believe them. I hope you all know how important you are.

I look back and am plagued by doubt. It’s less now but still it creeps in - did it happen? Was I too sensitive? Maybe I made too much of it? Have I remembered it wrong? What I know to be true is how I felt and continue to feel when he is mentioned or I see him. FEAR. It’s been 2 years and I still think about if he will like what I am wearing or will have a comment to make. I question my reality - ‘did that happen? Did I say that?’ In lost interactions with him. I met him on line 14 years ago. Things moved quickly, ish. I didn’t see it then but looking back he was ALWAYS there. He gave his friend keys to my flat and I arrived home with it tidied and reorganized. He thought I was messy and that it was a nice thing to do. I felt utterly overwhelmed and very uncomfortable with this but stayed and thanked him as I was left feeling ungrateful. Interestingly I didn’t introduce him to my friends - in fact I kept him quite separate. I think I knew that I didn’t want them to meet him as something was off and they would probably see it and point it out. Or maybe o was afraid that they wouldn’t see it and wouldn’t point it out so it would make me feel even crazier. He didn’t like how I breathed in his direction in bed. He didn’t like how I fiddled with things. (These all felt ok to change for him……. I really had no self love and held myself with very little worth). The first physical element to the abuse (which I can now name as such) was a confusing incident at the time. He was napping and I woke him and he grabbed me by the throat. I was so shocked and I wanted to run a mile but ended up being told that it was my fault as I woke him too quickly. I was brainwashed already (3 months in). I was hard wired for this though as I had be taught not to trust my instincts - how dangerous this was. I stayed for 12 years, 2 children and gradually faded away. I dreamed of leaving, I said I would over and over and I nearly did once but it took so much courage to do it. I was terrified of the financial implications. I was isolated. I was exhausted. And I did it. He would have ‘waking dreams’ during which he would scream at me, push me, throw things, terrify me but would not remember them in the morning or want to talk about them. He would say ‘ well it wasn’t me, I was asleep’. I went to bed in fear most nights. There were never any bruises you could see but so much had been pulverized internally for me. I was on life support. This is part of my story . A start. It continues as he is in my life as our kids are young. The emotional and psychological abuse continues but I am doing the work to reposition myself. I am taking responsibility for my part in my journey and this is both empowering and exhausting. This abuse is very misunderstood- it is dangerous and invisible. I am learning to believe myself and look to myself for validation and answers. With love

I will not longer live in fear for my self and my sons life. I will no longer be told how ugly and fat I am. I will no longer have him put his hands on me. I will no longer allow bruises on my face. I will no longer let this happen to someone else. I was in a situation where I couldn't leave for a long time and couldn't ask for help. The most fear I have ever been in in my life. But I have a 3-year-old son and NO ONE will ever hurt him the way they hurt me. I am putting a stop to being the victim and taking back control in my own life. One thing that I learned that is the most important to me... Is that you're never alone, and you are beautiful!

I thought he was the most perfect guy in the world. He was romantic, smart, funny, loving, kind, everything I had ever wanted in a guy. When things started to shift, I deeply believed it was my responsibility as his girlfriend to comfort him, take care of him, fix him. But as the breakdowns became more consistent, as he became more violent, as the words grew heavier and more hurtful, I was left feeling drained. My belief that I was supposed to stick by his side no matter what, that love was forgiving and forgetting, destroyed me. He was broken, and it was selfish to leave him. He didn’t mean it, he apologized eventually, he comforted me when he hurt me, so it was okay. But if I could go back in time, I’d scream “leave now, save yourself.” Because these excuses I was making were just that. Excuses. It was not normal. It was not okay. No excuses could be made to make his behavior normal. I just want everyone out there to know that it is not your fault. You are not weak. You are not stupid for not seeing it sooner. You were in love with someone who only showed you a small aspect of themselves, and then revealed the rest when you were already in too deep. One time is enough. It wasn’t an accident the first time, and it won’t be an accident the next. The recovery process is hard. But it’s so worth it. And you are worth so much more than what he declares over you. Please know that you are not alone. I’m rooting for you and I know others are too.

I was 17, he was 26. It was my first boyfriend and I was head over heels excited that I had my first boyfriend and that he was older. First year felt normal and I felt so happy. After I turned 18 there was a big shift. The following years were filled with coercion, manipulation and grooming. He hurt me for the first time while my friend was sleeping next to us at a house party. I had to stay silent while I was wincing in pain. When we got back home that night he hit even worse and it hurt to walk the next day. He cried and said it was my fault and said I made him do that. Manipulation continued, coercion got worse with threats like not letting me back into his apartment till I gave him what he wanted, another time he punched me in the arm out of anger and gaslighted me into thinking he never punched me after a bruise was visible. 4 years into the relationship, I always say to myself now it’s like a lightbulb turned on in my brain and told me this isn’t right I need to leave, I could have a better life than this. So I did, I opened up to those around me and found support in them. It was hard, I still had emotions to let go of and he tried so hard to keep me around by being extra sweet with me, but to this day I am so happy I didn’t fall for it again. Memories of him still haunt me, but I remember I am free now. People always ask DV survivors “well why didn’t you just leave?” It’s more than that. Once you’re in that cycle of abuse it’s hard to get out of. I pray to everyone experiencing this one day too has a lightbulb turn on in their head. I see you, i hear you and i wish you all the freedom

I was 6 the first time I was raped. It went on for nearly a decade. The worst thing about incest Is there access that the perpetrator has to you. You can’t escape and so you are always living in terror. When I was 7, I was gang raped by a group of teenage boys. It was incredibly violent and terrifying. I remember sitting outside after I finally got myself untied. I was afraid to go home because I didn’t want my abuser to find out that his “property” has been used by someone else, but I couldn’t think of a single person to go to, so I didn’t tell anyone for another 30 years. At 8, I was molested by a neighbor. During these outside abuses, I was still being raped at home. That ended when I was 13. The next 3 years were some of my happiest years. I was finally not being abused! During that time, the PTSD caused me to develop a heart condition and an eating disorder but I felt free! That all changed when I was 16 and met my first boyfriend. He began sexually abusing me a few months into our relationship. He left on an LDS mission and spent the mission stalking me from a distance. I started dating another boy who was emotionally abusive. The next boyfriend would slap me and tell me how stupid I was. I just couldn’t get it right. Then I met my husband. I married him when I was 19 years old. He is kind and gentle with me and I felt like I had finally found safety… Then his brother started sexual harassing me. This happened for years. Eventually, he sexually assaulted me. I told my husband everyone it would happen. He never did anything to help me. I had been seeing my therapist for 13 years when he started acting flirtatious. He was getting a divorce from his wife who I later found out was a patient of his. I got out of that situation quick. I was in my 30s, attending graduate school to become a therapist when the next sexual assault happened. It was a family friend in his 60s. He told me one day that he was very sick and wanted me to stop by. I went to his house to check in and he locked me in his room and sexually assaulted me. Afterward, he threatened me with a lawsuit and threatened my husband’s career, as he knew my husband’s boss. I was so scared and felt like I needed a week of school to pull myself back together. I explained to my professors what had happened. One of them forwarded my email to the administration of the college who then tried to force me out. They told me: “since you got assaulted, we can no longer support you in our program.” Just a reminder, this was a graduate program to become a therapist! It was disguising that they would try to through me out, blaming me for the assault! When I tried to push back on their actions, they threatened me with layers from the university. In the end, I won and became a therapist. At this pointing in my life, I had experienced so much abuse, rape, violence, and trauma but I had held it together, becoming a mom, earning 3 college degrees, working many jobs and helping my husband run a business were started in the side. I didn’t realize that everything I had been through was going to hit me like a freight train. I was worrying at a hospital as a therapist, co-facilitating an IOP group when one of my clients decided they were going to kill me, the other clients in the group and themselves by committing a mass shooting. This client told someone of their plans and we were warned the morning it was to happen. I was forced by hospital administrators and police to stay in the office where the person would be coming for 2 hours. The person was located by SWAT a few blocks from the hospital with a stock pile of weapons. I kind of snapped after that. My body started giving out. My mental health issues got a lot worse. I could no longer function. I started seeing another therapist. She was so kind and loving toward me. I adored her and felt like I was starting to heal some of the wounds that had been festering for decades. She was the one to initiate physical contact. I’ve been afraid of being touched most of my life so when she started touching me, it was scary. It was very innocent, hugs or a pat on the arm. It started to feel reassuring and comforting. Then she started getting angry at me. I would mention texting a friend she didn’t want me talking to or talk about wanting to change my hairstyle. She would berate me for the rest of the session, making me feel like I was bad for saying the wrong thing. Then she would lovebomb me sitting the next session. It was intoxicating. This went on for years. It got to the point where she was always touching me. She would touch me even when I didn’t want her to touch me. It was incredibly inappropriate! When she would get mad at me, which was often, she would demand that I apologize profusely. She owned me. She broke me down to nothing. She isolated me from friends and family. I was so depressed and anxious and confused. I believed her, that I was trash. Last year, I became very sick and when I told her I would be going to a clinic to get help, she lost it. Filled with jealous rage, she lashed out at me. Something in me found the strength to walk away. It was one year ago this month that I saw her last. I feel as I am nothing. I currently am mostly bed bound, unable to leave the safety of my room, unable to interact with other humans, completely terrified to live a meaningful life. I am so scared. I wish I could say that I found my way and am healing but the truth is, I’ve experienced too much. I don’t know that I’m ever find myself again. Some wounds are too deep to heal. My body is falling apart. My mind is obliterated. I don’t know if there is hope. Thank you for reading my story. It means more to me than I can ever express.

No more feeling shame. The shame is my abuser's to bear. I was in an abusive relationship 7 years. She would Yell and throw items around the room. Tell me who I can and can't see, and where I could go. She would degrade me by playing on any insecurity I had. If I questioned her motives I was gas lighted to change my way of thinking. She would smack my chest and call it play fighting. She would convince me "I'm the only one who is looking out for you" she monitored where I was and how long I was there. I would hid in the bathroom, because I was terrified of her. She would convince me to cut people out of my life. She would manipulate me emotionally and physically. Everything was on her terms, she loved that I feared her. No more feeling afraid of speaking my truth. #yournotalone

I was in a abusive marriage for many years. I never told anyone and was incredibly ashamed of myself and what I was allowing to happen. He was a military man. We moved around and I had few friends. We had children. One girl from my previous relationship and 2 children together. He sexually abused me. The last time resulted in my 3rd child. Years later my oldest child told me he was "touching" her. I reported it immediately and ne er doubted my child. A few months later, my 2nd child told me the same. He had raped her. Needless to say, I reported both abuses. And I left him. Moved out of state. He did some prison time, remarried and has built a new life for himself. 20 years later I am still angry, full of hate towards him and sickened by the thought of him. He was a registered sex offender, but after 20 years he petitioned to be removed. Time goes by and I'm okay. Other times I am depressed, full of anger, sadness, bitterness, grief & so much more. Not sure what I want to do? Do I need more therapy? Do I have Ptsd? My kids thank goodness, have turned out well. Me, sometimes I wonder.

I was 21 years old when I was swept off my feet by a boy at my college. I was young and so impressionable. I had gotten out of a safe long term high school relationship and had been single for about a year. When I met college boy he gave me everything that my previous relationship had not. He was exciting and popular. He had a lot of party friends and he made me feel like I was his soulmate and that we were meant to be together in such a short amount of time. He played off of all my insecurities and knew exactly what to say to me. I fell in love fast. I was enamored by him. He definitely came with his red flags. He did not have a job, a license (DUI), and he loved drinking and partaking in party drugs. I was newly 21 and in the sorority/ fraternity scene at my college. Life seemed to be full of partying. It all seemed so normal and "cool". I did my first drugs with him and I was hooked off all of these highs he was giving me. I was so hooked that I didn't even notice the first time he was verbally abusive. I told him I needed to run to the store (I had to poop and was scared because he lived with a house full of boys). He said he would go with me. When we got into the car and he realized that was the only reason I needed to "run to the store" he started to get irrationally angry and screamed at me. I was scared but also angry... I yelled back and was put in my place immediately. I knew it was wrong but life with him was so great and we were so in love and that was the first time my boundary was pushed and I chose to ignore it. The next time was when he found out I was taking medication for my anxiety. He shamed me and told me that those pills will make me crazy. That he didn't know I was taking SSRI's or he would have not been okay with it. He punched a hole in the wall by my head and flipped a table trying to hit me. I had my friend pick me up and the next day I was back at his house. He had said he was drinking too much, he apologized, but he also made me believe that I should get off the medication... So I did... Cold turkey. This was the second time my boundary was pushed even further than the last incident and I ignored it. There were many little events that continued to occur in the next few months. I let him know of a serious family trauma that had happened to my family and he told me "my dad was a pussy for the way he handled it". He continued talking shit about my dad and making me feel like this trauma that had happened to us was our fault. I ended up packing up my stuff and walking outside. He came out and apologized (again it was the drinking) and I apologized for "escalating" things as well. I always thought our fights were a two way street and that I was also at fault for what had occurred. Another time he was out extremely late and I kept asking when he would be home. He came home extremely angry, packed up all of my things and told me to get the fuck out and that we were done. I had cried to everyone that he had broken up with me. I told everyone it was my fault for being too needy and pushing him too far. He called me later that night and told me he would forgive me and told me to come home. He started to talk badly about my friends and people in my life and so I slowly started to drift away from them and who I was. I started to lose sight of my moral compass as each boundary was pushed further during every incident that occurred. Then at around 6 months of dating the big event occurred. We were out drinking with friends. We took an Uber home and he brought up his dog that had been wrongfully taken from him (AKA he gave it to someone else and was mad they moved away). I told him to shut up about the dog and he lost it. He got extremely physical with me. I was pushed, choked multiple times and thrown to the ground multiple times. I threw a pot of water boiling that was on the stove to create space between us after he put his hands on me. The look in his eyes after this occurred was one of the scariest moments of my life. He chased me with a knife outside into the street, threw me on the ground, and then ran back inside grabbed a wine bottle and chucked it out into the street at my head. I started to scream yelling "HELP ME HELP ME I AM GOING TO DIE" he went back inside and grabbed all of my things and started cutting them with the knife and throwing them at me. He shattered my phone as well and then he locked me out of the house while I was in the street screaming for help. The police finally came... they took my statement and immediately arrested him. The thoughts I had this entire time were that I regretted escalating anything. I just wanted to go back inside and be with him and go to bed. I screamed for them not to arrest him and the police officer sat me down and explained to me that I was in a domestic violence relationship. I couldn't believe what he was telling me. I did not have a phone so I told him my childhood best friend's phone number and she came and picked me up. The events that followed were horrific. I was not given resources or taken care of. All charges were dropped due to insufficient evidence. This was because the police had to come the next day to take pictures of my marks and it was not added into the police report. I went to the doctors and found out I had severe whiplash from the event. It only took 3 weeks for me to get back together with him. After that was one of the best honeymoon phases I had ever experienced. I was convinced he just had an alcohol problem and that I was just as much to blame as he was for the fight. Even though he did not get into any legal trouble the college had found out about what happened because before we got back together I had tried to switch out of the class we shared. They alerted the Title 9 office and there was an investigation. He and his lawyer manipulated me into lying about what happened and telling them that I didn't think he should have any punishment. I did this... he ended up getting suspended for a semester and having to attend a few AA classes. I ended up staying with this man for 4.5 more years. We moved into together, I completely distanced myself from family and friends. No physical abuse was as horrid as that night but the emotional and verbal abuse continued. It also turned into withholding sex because of the way I looked, distancing me from friends and family, breaking my personal items in front of me, punching holes in our walls, lying to me constantly, yelling at me that I am worthless while I am crying on the floor, and just so much more. We even got a dog together and I now realize how abusive he was to our poor pet as well. There were many other bigger traumatic events that also occurred from his drinking during this time too. It was the prolonged exposure to all of this abuse that really had the biggest effect on me. Here I am 3 and half years out of this relationship now. I just accepted that I was truly in an abusive relationship because the gaslighting started to become something my brain naturally did to myself. I did not trust myself nor my feelings. I have had to rely on other people to validate everything for me because I do not know what feelings are deserved and what aren't. I have learned that all feelings are deserved to be felt. I am married now and in an extremely healthy relationship after having to move back to my hometown after the break up. I have found myself again and connected to my inner child. I have been in therapy for the entire time post-breakup and this has helped a lot. I was diagnosed with Complex PTSD and this diagnosis has helped me with my healing as well. It has also helped me with truly validating myself and what I repeatedly went through. I am realizing that some of these things will now be engrained in me forever and that I have to accept myself for who I am and what I have been through. I have to know I am a stronger and more empathetic human that is able to deeply appreciate life and healthy relationships that I have now. Everything is more colorful and beautiful because of all the dark things I have been through. I continue to work on myself and I have now reached a point where I feel I am ready to help others. I hope this story is a start. It does not include everything but it does include a basis of that 5 year relationship that changed me forever. YOU ARE NOT ALONE.