October is domestic violence month so I thought I'd tell my story.
So here I am. An 'abuse' survivor. When people say 'abuse' it conjures images & reenactments of disturbing popular movies I've seen. They all have a context, relevant dialogue that all makes sense as to why somebody may behave so badly, they have a purposeful & 'life lesson learned' ending. But that's not my story. That's not my experience. That's not my abuse.
So I landed myself a boyfriend that enjoyed making my life hell. Not only did he bruise me with tv remotes, his shoes (gee, he loved throwing those things!) one time a hair gel container... anything in his reach really. But he also specialized in the 'words' that all abusers use.... "you're just lucky i'm here. nobody else would stay around"; "you should be grateful i tell you how to improve yourself"; "nobody will ever love you as much as i do"; "you're a liar- that never happened"; "you've got a bloody good imagination... always making things up"; "well if you didn't do that i wouldn't have reacted like that"; "it's because of you that i act like this.. you make me so mad".
I also endured the relentless hawk's eye... i couldn't go to the toilet without him saying "where are you going"; the phone rings "who is it?.... okay you can talk to your mom but only for 5 minutes.”
I also had the relentless task of oral stimulation & hideously painful 3 minute penetration to relieve this man of his 'natural urges' and always being told "it doesn't matter where i get my appetite- as long as i eat at home" at the end.
Domestic violence doesn't make sense. It can be small and quiet. It can be a look, a deep sigh, a turn of the head, it can be loud smashing noises, booming voices, fists thrown, heads bashed.
I finally left his grasp when he punched me with a closed fist at his mom’s house. His parents called the cops and when they came his mom said she never saw anything.
I went to the police numerous times. Filed about 5 restraining orders. Finally he came home drunk snatched our then baby out of my arms and threw her into her crib. Well that was it for me. I called my mom and told he I needed to get out and she gladly said I could move back in with her until I got back on my feet.
I want my daughter. I wanted a good husband & partner in life. I didn't want to be hit. I don't want to shudder if there is a loud bang in a shopping mall; i don't want to feel scared if my voice is too loud or i laugh out loud and people might hear me. I don't want my memories to be 'oh that's the place he hit me one time because...'
I am so damaged from these events. I am so broken from these events. I am so much stronger from these events. But why is everybody talking at me? Words..... just words. When will they mean something? When will they help me feel valued & loved?
To me, that's DV.... it hasn't ended just because I suddenly understand the words!!
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