Post by riotgirl24 on Aug 10, 2014 21:34:25 GMT
I have been away from my abusive relationship for about two years now and for the last year have been with a new boyfriend who loves me and supports me, however I am still struggling to get over my past relationship. I thought I would try to find somewhere I could tell my story and maybe get some sort of closure on it to see if it helps, so here goes...
I went out with this guy for three years and even from the beginning it was bad. I don't even know why I stayed tbh. One night I went up after work to surprise him and he answered the door and I could tell immediately he was drunk. He was stinking of it and could barely talk. He told me I couldn't go in coz his ex was in and I could hear her laughing in the living room and he slammed the door in my face. I sat in my car and cried. He stayed over at hers a few times as well and swore he didn't do anything, but his friend said he did. I chose to believe that he didn't even though I knew in my heart that he had. The first night we slept together he told me he loved me, then told me a few months later that he just said that so I would sleep with him. He told me he didn't even know my last name for a couple months into it.
anyway, as time went on I realised he clearly had a drinking problem. He would get drunk any chance he got, and I don't just mean a little bit, I mean so much he could hardly speak. He would go to his mums and steal her vodka. He didn't have a job so just got benefits and used the money from that to buy it. Then he couldn't pay his rent so I would feel bad for him and pay it out of my student loans. I couldn't leave any alcohol at his or he would drink it. A litre of bottle would be gone in one night. He was horrible to me a lot, but on the drink he was awful. He would lock me in his flat so I couldn't leave. He would hide my keys. He would scream in my face. One time I picked him up from his mums and as soon as he got in the car I could tell he had been drinking, so I took him up to his flat and told him I was going home for the night coz I couldn't even understand what he was saying because he was slurring so much. He locked the door, pushed me up against it and screamed in my face that he hadn't even had a single drink, while his breath was stinking of it. He let me go and I fell to the floor and phoned his mum crying saying how I was terrified and couldn't get out. That made him more mad. He tried to take the phone off me and was screaming at me saying he hadn't been drinking. He hid the key somewhere so I couldn't get out and I was frantically looking for it but I ended up having to stay. I had developed a habit of self harming, so I went to the bedroom and cut my leg, mainly as something else to concentrate on because I was terrified.
before I met him, I had self harmed due to other reasons, but I had stopped for months and had never did it so bad that it left a scar. Then I met him and due to many nights like the above, it got worse and worse til I was leaving gaping holes in my thighs. A few times he called an ambulance for me so I thought he was being nice, forgetting that it was because of him that I did it in the first place. I have lost count of how many scars I have because it is hundreds. Now I can't go out in shorts or a bikini because I am so ashamed. I began cutting my wrists, and some nights I wrote suicide notes and had an ambulance called on me because I genuinely didn't want to be here. I took paracetamol overdoses but usually just threw them back up. He would look at my scars and tell me I was disgusting. He told me no one would ever love me again because of what I had done to myself. He told me I better stick with him because I would never get anyone else because who would want to look at skin that was shredded and scarred. Then he would come to doctors and psychologist appointments with me so I thought he was being supportive.
I don't know how far into the relationship it was, but I think it was about 6 months. He wanted to sleep together, and i didn't. He started tryin to get me in the mood but I kept saying no. He kept doing it anyway so eventually I just said yeh and thought maybe I'd try to get in the mood as we went. But when we started, I didn't want to. I told him I didn't want to, but he didn't stop. I said it again, louder, but he just ignored me. I started crying and I know he could hear me, but he just kept going anyway. I don't know why, but I didn't move. I just waited til he finished and hoped it would be soon. I was crying the whole way through. At the end he lay down next to me and said oh were you crying? And I said obviously I asked you to stop and he said aw I didn't know. This happened several times from them on... I don't even know how many. Sometimes he would tie me up, I would ask him not to but often I wouldn't fight much because I thought he would stop. I thought this time surely he will know and he won't do it. But he always did. Afterwards I would lock myself in the bathroom and cut my leg because I hated myself so much. Sometimes he would strangle me so I couldn't move or breathe and I would pass out and wake up and he would be next door in the living room and I would be tucked under the cover. Other times I would wake up and he would still be going, but I would be too weak to move because I hadn't fully woken up yet.
one night, we started arguing because I was fed up that his flat was never tidy and it always smelled because he would leave food lying about and dishes in the sink and never wash anything. I don't know how we ended up screaming at each other but we did and the neighbour called the police. As usual he had been drinking that night. Just before the police came up he had punched the kitchen door and literally pulled it off its hinges and kicked and punched it into several pieces. I was terrified because I thought... That could have been me. But I was so angry I kept shouting saying look at yourself this is ridiculous. The police came on and separated us. They were just asking me what happened that night etc. After a few minutes the officer that had been talking to him in the next room came through to me and said to the officer talking to me that he had told them that he had raped me. The officer that had been talking to me asked me if that was true, and i said no because I was so scared of my family finding out. They asked why he would say that then, and I said I didn't know. The officer said to me are you sure there's nothing you want to tell me? And I could tell by her face she knew I was lying, but I said no. She told me if I ever changed my mind that she would be there to listen. That night haunts me because I wish I had just said yes... But I can't change it now and none of my family know, even to this day, so the thought of them knowing terrifies me.
A couple times, we did break up. But I always went back because I thought he was right, that no one would ever love me because I had so many scars. One time he was at my house and I told him it was over and he was sitting on Facebook at the time, and I looked over his shoulder while he was typing and saw he was messaging some extremely explicit messages to another girl. I went crazy saying we had only been broken up about five minutes and he was already doing that. Another time I found messages on his Facebook to an ex saying she was the one that got away and he didn't even know why he was with me.
after we broke up the final time, he kept saying he was going to get me back. I told him I wasn't taking him at his word this time that he was going to have to prove that he had changed. After a week, he started texting me horrible texts, calling me a b**** and a c***. He would phone me at 3am saying he was going to tell my family what happened because he knew how embarrassed I would be. I was texting back telling him to stop etc but it just made it worse. Eventually I said I would meet up with him because I thought this might help stop it if I could just talk to him and he seemed apologetic. I was convinced he would change. God knows why... We ended up meeting up for lunch a few times and twice we ended up sleeping together. I absolutely hate myself for this. It makes me feel so dirty and disgusting, just like he said. But I loved him, and thought he really was the best I was going to get with my scars everywhere on my body. He told me as soon as someone saw me naked they would leave me.
Then one day, I saw a text on his phone... And saw that he had had a friend with benefits since a week after we broke up. Which meant I had slept with him while he was meeting this other person, while telling me he loved me and he would prove to me that he wanted me. I was furious. He didn't understand why I was so angry. He told me he was single so he could if he wanted. I said yes you can, but don't tell me you love me while you are having sex with someone else.
I didn't hear from him for a week. Then I got a text saying "I was just wondering, why were you so angry?". I didn't reply. I then got over 50 texts that week asking how I was, saying good morning and goodnight every day, and just general chat. I didn't reply once. I was going out of my mind. He then texted my friend to ask if I was getting them and if I would consider replying. I text him after this to say I would meet up so he wouldn't put my friend in the middle. I met him and told him to leave me alone. He thought I was meeting him to get back together. Every week or so I would get a random text but eventually they stopped. 8 months after we had originally broken up, I got a letter through the door - 3 pages long. It said how he wondered if I hated him and that I was his angel and how he wishes he had me back. He tried to write wee memories to make me miss him, but i just hated him for it. I threw it out. Each month after that I got a text from him asking how I was and if I wanted to meet. Eventually, I changed my number.
a month after that I met a new guy. We have been going out for a year and a half now and he is so understanding. He kisses my scars, he tells me I am beautiful regardless, and I love him to bits. I still cant get over what happened though, because even now I'm still worried I will hear from him. While going out with my new man, my ex came into my work, but just walked up and down a few times watching me, he has messaged me on Facebook through different accounts and came to a club he found out I was going to to come and say hello to me. I feel like I am never going to escape. I hate looking at my scars every day because they are a constant reminder of what happened. If I ever feel slightly down I feel the need to cut even though I haven't done it for a long time. I still battle with the urge. I get flashbacks and have dreams then wake up in a sweat over the rapes. I hate anyone drinking around me because I'm scared they will hurt me. I am getting better, but I still have trouble being intimate with my new partner. I keep thinking if myself, sittin in the bathroom covered in blood feeling disgusting and having to sit at the hospital lying saying I'm fine. And most of all I hate myself for not sayin yes to that police officer when they asked me if he had raped me. I just don't know how to get over these things. I don't feel like I can physically say the words to tell anyone yet and I don't know if I ever will. I have tried to explain to my partner but I don't like telling him either because I don't want to make him feel bad and I know even if I do he won't truly understand. I just feel so alone with it. I just cry any time I see anything remotely similar to my situation on TV. And it scares me how vulnerable I was and I am so scared to let someone in like that again, although I am trying my hardest.
if anyone has any advice please, I'd appreciate it so much, I am lost here,
and I'm sorry that my story was so long. So thank you anyone for reading. It means so much.
I went out with this guy for three years and even from the beginning it was bad. I don't even know why I stayed tbh. One night I went up after work to surprise him and he answered the door and I could tell immediately he was drunk. He was stinking of it and could barely talk. He told me I couldn't go in coz his ex was in and I could hear her laughing in the living room and he slammed the door in my face. I sat in my car and cried. He stayed over at hers a few times as well and swore he didn't do anything, but his friend said he did. I chose to believe that he didn't even though I knew in my heart that he had. The first night we slept together he told me he loved me, then told me a few months later that he just said that so I would sleep with him. He told me he didn't even know my last name for a couple months into it.
anyway, as time went on I realised he clearly had a drinking problem. He would get drunk any chance he got, and I don't just mean a little bit, I mean so much he could hardly speak. He would go to his mums and steal her vodka. He didn't have a job so just got benefits and used the money from that to buy it. Then he couldn't pay his rent so I would feel bad for him and pay it out of my student loans. I couldn't leave any alcohol at his or he would drink it. A litre of bottle would be gone in one night. He was horrible to me a lot, but on the drink he was awful. He would lock me in his flat so I couldn't leave. He would hide my keys. He would scream in my face. One time I picked him up from his mums and as soon as he got in the car I could tell he had been drinking, so I took him up to his flat and told him I was going home for the night coz I couldn't even understand what he was saying because he was slurring so much. He locked the door, pushed me up against it and screamed in my face that he hadn't even had a single drink, while his breath was stinking of it. He let me go and I fell to the floor and phoned his mum crying saying how I was terrified and couldn't get out. That made him more mad. He tried to take the phone off me and was screaming at me saying he hadn't been drinking. He hid the key somewhere so I couldn't get out and I was frantically looking for it but I ended up having to stay. I had developed a habit of self harming, so I went to the bedroom and cut my leg, mainly as something else to concentrate on because I was terrified.
before I met him, I had self harmed due to other reasons, but I had stopped for months and had never did it so bad that it left a scar. Then I met him and due to many nights like the above, it got worse and worse til I was leaving gaping holes in my thighs. A few times he called an ambulance for me so I thought he was being nice, forgetting that it was because of him that I did it in the first place. I have lost count of how many scars I have because it is hundreds. Now I can't go out in shorts or a bikini because I am so ashamed. I began cutting my wrists, and some nights I wrote suicide notes and had an ambulance called on me because I genuinely didn't want to be here. I took paracetamol overdoses but usually just threw them back up. He would look at my scars and tell me I was disgusting. He told me no one would ever love me again because of what I had done to myself. He told me I better stick with him because I would never get anyone else because who would want to look at skin that was shredded and scarred. Then he would come to doctors and psychologist appointments with me so I thought he was being supportive.
I don't know how far into the relationship it was, but I think it was about 6 months. He wanted to sleep together, and i didn't. He started tryin to get me in the mood but I kept saying no. He kept doing it anyway so eventually I just said yeh and thought maybe I'd try to get in the mood as we went. But when we started, I didn't want to. I told him I didn't want to, but he didn't stop. I said it again, louder, but he just ignored me. I started crying and I know he could hear me, but he just kept going anyway. I don't know why, but I didn't move. I just waited til he finished and hoped it would be soon. I was crying the whole way through. At the end he lay down next to me and said oh were you crying? And I said obviously I asked you to stop and he said aw I didn't know. This happened several times from them on... I don't even know how many. Sometimes he would tie me up, I would ask him not to but often I wouldn't fight much because I thought he would stop. I thought this time surely he will know and he won't do it. But he always did. Afterwards I would lock myself in the bathroom and cut my leg because I hated myself so much. Sometimes he would strangle me so I couldn't move or breathe and I would pass out and wake up and he would be next door in the living room and I would be tucked under the cover. Other times I would wake up and he would still be going, but I would be too weak to move because I hadn't fully woken up yet.
one night, we started arguing because I was fed up that his flat was never tidy and it always smelled because he would leave food lying about and dishes in the sink and never wash anything. I don't know how we ended up screaming at each other but we did and the neighbour called the police. As usual he had been drinking that night. Just before the police came up he had punched the kitchen door and literally pulled it off its hinges and kicked and punched it into several pieces. I was terrified because I thought... That could have been me. But I was so angry I kept shouting saying look at yourself this is ridiculous. The police came on and separated us. They were just asking me what happened that night etc. After a few minutes the officer that had been talking to him in the next room came through to me and said to the officer talking to me that he had told them that he had raped me. The officer that had been talking to me asked me if that was true, and i said no because I was so scared of my family finding out. They asked why he would say that then, and I said I didn't know. The officer said to me are you sure there's nothing you want to tell me? And I could tell by her face she knew I was lying, but I said no. She told me if I ever changed my mind that she would be there to listen. That night haunts me because I wish I had just said yes... But I can't change it now and none of my family know, even to this day, so the thought of them knowing terrifies me.
A couple times, we did break up. But I always went back because I thought he was right, that no one would ever love me because I had so many scars. One time he was at my house and I told him it was over and he was sitting on Facebook at the time, and I looked over his shoulder while he was typing and saw he was messaging some extremely explicit messages to another girl. I went crazy saying we had only been broken up about five minutes and he was already doing that. Another time I found messages on his Facebook to an ex saying she was the one that got away and he didn't even know why he was with me.
after we broke up the final time, he kept saying he was going to get me back. I told him I wasn't taking him at his word this time that he was going to have to prove that he had changed. After a week, he started texting me horrible texts, calling me a b**** and a c***. He would phone me at 3am saying he was going to tell my family what happened because he knew how embarrassed I would be. I was texting back telling him to stop etc but it just made it worse. Eventually I said I would meet up with him because I thought this might help stop it if I could just talk to him and he seemed apologetic. I was convinced he would change. God knows why... We ended up meeting up for lunch a few times and twice we ended up sleeping together. I absolutely hate myself for this. It makes me feel so dirty and disgusting, just like he said. But I loved him, and thought he really was the best I was going to get with my scars everywhere on my body. He told me as soon as someone saw me naked they would leave me.
Then one day, I saw a text on his phone... And saw that he had had a friend with benefits since a week after we broke up. Which meant I had slept with him while he was meeting this other person, while telling me he loved me and he would prove to me that he wanted me. I was furious. He didn't understand why I was so angry. He told me he was single so he could if he wanted. I said yes you can, but don't tell me you love me while you are having sex with someone else.
I didn't hear from him for a week. Then I got a text saying "I was just wondering, why were you so angry?". I didn't reply. I then got over 50 texts that week asking how I was, saying good morning and goodnight every day, and just general chat. I didn't reply once. I was going out of my mind. He then texted my friend to ask if I was getting them and if I would consider replying. I text him after this to say I would meet up so he wouldn't put my friend in the middle. I met him and told him to leave me alone. He thought I was meeting him to get back together. Every week or so I would get a random text but eventually they stopped. 8 months after we had originally broken up, I got a letter through the door - 3 pages long. It said how he wondered if I hated him and that I was his angel and how he wishes he had me back. He tried to write wee memories to make me miss him, but i just hated him for it. I threw it out. Each month after that I got a text from him asking how I was and if I wanted to meet. Eventually, I changed my number.
a month after that I met a new guy. We have been going out for a year and a half now and he is so understanding. He kisses my scars, he tells me I am beautiful regardless, and I love him to bits. I still cant get over what happened though, because even now I'm still worried I will hear from him. While going out with my new man, my ex came into my work, but just walked up and down a few times watching me, he has messaged me on Facebook through different accounts and came to a club he found out I was going to to come and say hello to me. I feel like I am never going to escape. I hate looking at my scars every day because they are a constant reminder of what happened. If I ever feel slightly down I feel the need to cut even though I haven't done it for a long time. I still battle with the urge. I get flashbacks and have dreams then wake up in a sweat over the rapes. I hate anyone drinking around me because I'm scared they will hurt me. I am getting better, but I still have trouble being intimate with my new partner. I keep thinking if myself, sittin in the bathroom covered in blood feeling disgusting and having to sit at the hospital lying saying I'm fine. And most of all I hate myself for not sayin yes to that police officer when they asked me if he had raped me. I just don't know how to get over these things. I don't feel like I can physically say the words to tell anyone yet and I don't know if I ever will. I have tried to explain to my partner but I don't like telling him either because I don't want to make him feel bad and I know even if I do he won't truly understand. I just feel so alone with it. I just cry any time I see anything remotely similar to my situation on TV. And it scares me how vulnerable I was and I am so scared to let someone in like that again, although I am trying my hardest.
if anyone has any advice please, I'd appreciate it so much, I am lost here,
and I'm sorry that my story was so long. So thank you anyone for reading. It means so much.