I fell in love with a monster....

(Wales)

Hey, guys, I’m not sure what I’m doing here so bear with me. After nearly three years of keeping this to myself, I feel the need to share my story and show people that there is light at the end of the tunnel. We’ve all been in that one bad relationship that changed us right? We’ve all been so blinded by love while the person you were with was destroying you. Ok maybe not all of us, but after reading up on statistics, I’m surprised how many women, and men, suffer in silence.

When I was 22 I thought I met this perfect guy off some dating website. I instantly fell for him and his charm, I saw perfection. We were joined at the hip for the first few months. I had the spring in my step that I desired. He told me he loved me and I just melted, then I found out I was having his child. I was terrified but excited. This relationship was a whole new chapter of my life. Was I ready? Could I cope? Were WE ready? After a lot of thinking it settled, and I decided this is what I wanted. We didn’t tell anyone apart from our closest friends. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops, but I controlled myself.

About three months in I was at work when I received a text saying he was seeing someone else. In those three sentences, my world fell apart. It took all my strength to keep my head up, but it wasn’t enough, I needed answers. I finally found the courage to ask him, and he admitted it. He decided he didn’t want our child or me anymore. And, this is where it turned nasty.

He knew I would not terminate my child so he took it into his own hands. I don’t remember much from that night. I just felt numb. I was so confused as to what just happened. I lost our baby a few days later. Hearing the words ” I’m sorry, but there’s no heartbeat” destroyed me. I was at rock bottom. He came back, apologized and, obviously, said: “I won’t do it again.” Being emotionally drained, I believed him. But it was a lie; it always happened again, from knocking me out, trying to break my wrist and arms, to fracturing bones in my hand. He kept me under lock and key in his bedroom. He had got so far into my head that I believed my mother hated me because he said she did. I isolated myself from everyone, because he didn’t want me around anyone else. The emotional abuse, well looking back on it now, I don’t know how I coped. The financial abuse, he would rarely let me go to work, but then it was my fault if I couldn’t pay for stuff. I tried to leave so many times, but I always got told “no one else will love you” or “I’ll kill myself, you’ll have to live with that.” I was trapped.

This went on for nearly two years. One night we went for a drive. He was in a good mood, and I was doing anything not to get on his wrong side. He sat in the passenger's seat, doing his weekly check on my phone to see if I was behaving when I received a generic email from a dating website. I saw his eyes change, so I just ran out of the car. He followed me, foolishly I had a knife in my car (I’m weird, I can only eat apples if I have a knife), which I had been using earlier that day. As he charged towards me, I caught the shine of the blade from the streetlight above. I saw no other way out, so I just charged at him, I thought to myself I’m not going down without a fight. As I ran to him I caught him off guard, he grabbed me by the arms and threw me to the ground in a panic, which resulted in me hitting my head on a curb. I was in a daze. I could see him running away from me. On the other side of me was a man running from a jaguar. I remember staring at the car badge as this man was desperately trying to get my attention. I saw him dialing for emergency services. I panicked, and my first thought was ” I need to help him.” I picked myself up, touched the back of my head to find blood on my fingers, but, no, he was my main concern. I got in the car, and he was shaking. I said nothing. I just drove. He would not stop apologizing to me, but I was silent. It lasted all of 10 minutes because he turned again and this time it got serious. I pulled over as he started screaming at me, I know I needed to stop the car before he pulled his usual stunt of pulling the steering wheel and nearly killing us. I stopped the car; he was crying, he turned to me and said so softly ” I will never hurt you again,” but he didn’t mean it lovingly at all. He still had that look in his eyes. I just remember taking a blow to the back of the head from his fist, then the hands going around my throat. I thought that was it; he was going kill me in my car, on a busy road. He continued shouting at me as I struggled, but I could not get free. Luckily, with his noise, he disturbed the houses nearby. I just remember this woman dragging me out of the car. People were talking to me, but I couldn’t hear, I couldn’t feel. My heart was racing and all I wanted was him. He ran away from everything. I knew then that it had to end.

I drove home and walked in my house, my mother dancing around the kitchen to queen, the dogs barking so happy to see me and of my father sitting in the armchair so oblivious his surroundings because Doctor who was on. I broke. I was keeping all this hurt pain and anger from people who would do anything for me. My mother took one look at me and insisted I tell her what’s wrong. This moment was my chance; it can all end now. ” We’ve argued” is all I could say. I heard nothing from him that night, but the next day I was being suffocated by texts phone calls, WhatsApp messages, and Facebook messages. He told me he was going to kill himself.

I spent hours driving around looking for him, eventually finding him on a bridge ready to jump. I looked at him, and I could hear the hurt in his voice when something just clicked. It was as if I just snapped under pressure. It was almost euphoric what I felt, like an out of body experience. I phoned the police and explained the situation. Then I came to the decision it was my turn. It was a gorgeous day. I wouldn’t say it was a good mood I was in; I was just happy I was about to free myself from the torment forever. I headed down to the local train station and just sat and waited. I was going to do it, I was going to end my life and I was pretty damn happy about it. The birds were tweeting, dogs barking, sun blazing. I heard this voice behind me saying ”what are you doing stupid girl, you’re almost on the tracks.” I turned around to see my father staring back at me. He had taken a different route to walk the dogs that day. He could see I wasn’t right and encouraged me to go home. I was reluctant at first, but the more I looked at his face the more I snapped out of the state of mind I was in. The pain was coming back, the fear and that massive knot in my chest. He walked me home and made me a cup of tea and asked what was wrong. All I could say is that I was down.

He pushed me and pushed to get information, but I was like a vault. I found the courage to let go. Although it took all my energy and it killed me, I was heartbroken. I had fallen in love with a monster. He didn’t let it go there. I went through another year or so of emotional abuse. He would just turn up to my house, or approach me in a nightclub aggressively. I went into hiding, my anxiety shot through the roof, and I couldn’t face the world.

Shortly after I got diagnosed with PTSD, the flashbacks I have to this day are horrific. I remember stuff that I had set to the back of my mind. Although it catches me off guard, it’s in the past. The memories will never fade. The emotional scars will be slow to heal, but life gets better over time. You will always have that question ”why didn’t you just leave?” Which, if I’m honest, pisses me off. It’s never that simple and some people are fortunate enough to never have to go through it.

I didn’t write this post for sympathy. I wrote this post to raise awareness. I wish I had gone to someone for help, but that doesn’t mean I am permanently damaged. I’ve learned to rely on myself a lot more, which changed me as a person, turned me into someone who stuck up for herself, someone who was so much stronger than I was before. Don’t get me wrong, relationships after this have not been straightforward. I’m so closed off from my emotions, people just get up and leave. My finding someone shouldn’t be your main priority. Fix yourself, find your worth, do that stuff you’ve been wanting to do. Be yourself. Learn to love yourself. Talk to people about things. Some people just need to be reminded that it’s ok to be sad. You will always have your weak moment, but you’re only human.

I’m still yet to tell my family about this, and I’m hoping one day I will just take that deep breathe and allow the words to come out. But, I’m not pushing myself more than I need to! There’s a way out of these situations. Trust me; I’m living proof!