Ongoing Abuser, But I Remain a Survivor!
Many years ago I had been seeing this bloke for a while, and I was head over heels with him however he didn't feel the same about me, and he ended the relationship. I was heartbroken, and his best friend allowed me to cry on his shoulder. He was there for me, and I thought he was a genuine friend. Our friendship continued for a few years where we would occasionally sleep with one another. He was charming, funny, a great dancer and great company. He made me feel special and wanted. In turn, I fell for him.
Before too long I realized we were in a relationship, and he asked me to move in. Things seemed to be going well, but one day I was housesitting for someone while they were away and he came to stay with me. He turned suddenly. He accused me that I was in a brothel and that I was a whore. I found the whole thing ludicrous. When I laughed this angered him more, and he punched me in my face, grabbed my hair and dragged me down the stairs. He kicked me, bit me, struck me, burnt me with a cigarette and refused to leave when I begged him to go. The abuse went on for three hours until he decided to call a taxi and leave. I was in absolute shocked and bolted the door and sat and cried.
The next day he rung me to apologize and said it was because I was twenty years younger causing him to get worried he wasn't enough for me. Stupidly I forgave him and went back to him.
It took a while for anything else to happen, but after three months it all happened again. We had been on a night out, and an old friend who was a girl came up to me. We swapped numbers as we decided to arrange a girly evening. My partner pinched my ass and shouted something in my ear, but because of the music, I couldn't hear him. I followed him outside to ask what was up, and he immediately shouted in my face that he didn't want me to have that girl's number. I didn't understand why so I questioned him. He got violent and slapped me across the face and threw me to the floor. He grabbed my phone to see who else might text me and then smashed my phone to the floor. He kicked me in the legs and stamped on me. He then picked me up and dragged me home. I went straight to bed in shock and could hear him in the next room arguing with himself. I was now terrified of what type of person he was.
A couple of nights later he had gone out and then came home with his mates. He entered into the bedroom and got me out of bed telling me to get up and entertain them. I said I was tired and wanted to sleep to which point he dragged me into the lounge by my hair and walloped me across the face. His friend tried to stick up for me but my ex-partner became angrier and accused me of sleeping with his mate, and he threw me out on the street in just my knickers, and a t-shirt at 4 am on a winter morning. I walked to a friend's house who told me to call the police, but I didn't want to. The next day I had the same apologies, and again I went back.
A month later he attacked me. We had been out on a night out, and he and his friends started taking the mickey out of one of their mates who was seeing this girl. My partner made a disgusting comment about her 'c**t' to which I said I didn't want my boyfriend saying things like that. When we were walking home, he turned on me saying I was jealous and evil. I said I had no need to be jealous but that I didn't like the words he had been saying. He grabbed the takeaway food we had and rubbed it in my face calling me a jealous old dog. Again I said I did not need to be jealous as I didn't even like the girl. At this, he flipped. Dragged me inside and beat me black and blue, held a knife to my throat, strangled me until I passed out, picked me up and raped me then beat me up again. He then wouldn't let me leave the flat for two days, and he sat by the front door holding the knife to stop me. A few days later he had to go to work, and I managed to get out. I packed a small bag of essentials, and my friend came and got me. She was horrified by my bruises and insisted that I call the police this time. The police came and took my statement, and even they were disgusted by my injuries and advised me I was one of the worst cases they had ever seen. They arrested him but I was still the victim, and he talked me into how sorry he was and how he would never do it again. I believed him, dropped the charges with the police and ran away to Spain with him.
Of course, the abuse didn't stop, and within four days I was covered in bruises. However now I was completely isolated from any friends and family. He has me just how he wanted me. Alone and dependant on him. For the next two years, the abuse got worse and worse. On a daily basis, I had verbal and emotional abuse. I was called a whore and a fat slag. He told me no one loved me and no one would ever want me. Gradually I believed him. I was so run down and lonely.
I had a work party do, and the hosts invited him. But, he nearly killed me that night. He picked up a table and smashed it over my head, hung me off the balcony, cut my wrists with razors, ripped up all my clothes and then fell asleep with his hands around my neck. I managed to get out of his grip and ran to my colleague's hotel room the next floor down. My bruising mortified them and my state the state of me shocked them. They patched me up and lent me clothes and offered me refuge but I was in a foreign country and thought I needed him to survive. So I went back to him.
The abuse continued for the next six months until I fell pregnant. My abusive partner was not happy at first and threatened 'to kick the creature' out of me. Many times he was violent, and I would lie and cradle my tummy hoping he would not harm my baby. Amazingly, my baby thrived, and when I eventually started showing at seven months he changed to the loving partner, and I stupidly thought this was the new him. On 17 June 2015, my beautiful boy was born by emergency c section. He was healthy and beautiful. I got home with my baby two days later and another two days later on my 30th birthday he beat me up and kicked me repeatedly in the stomach. He put a knife in the back of my head and hit me around my head with a metal bar while my son was in my arms.
I now knew I had to get away and back to the UK. But my son didn't have a passport. One night when my son was 11 weeks old, the abuse became the worse it had ever been, and I ended up being rescued by the Spanish police. I was put in a refuge for two weeks until the embassy gave me my son's emergency travel document and I flew back to the UK on 5th October 2015.
Unfortunately, my ex-partner followed me back, but I now have a non-molestation order out on him and a restraining order and a prohibited steps order. He is not allowed any contact with me or my son. He has breached the law and is now going to trial, so he may end up serving a sentence.
I am still scared when I walk in public, and there are places I avoid so that I do not see him. It has affected me in all sorts of ways but getting away from him was the best thing I ever did! I have mental scars and physical scars but most importantly my son won't be damaged by him, and won't have to witness such horrific abuse. I still worry and have been put off men. I can't even let my dad or brother hug me, but I'm hoping that one day this will change as well.