Mental Torture & Physical Pain

Last week I braved the decision to share my blog with my Mum, Sisters and closest friends. Two things happened. Firstly my friend sent me a message, after reading my “fight or flight” post. She explained that I probably didn’t remember but when I was sat on my bathroom floor, I actually phoned her. I am still utterly flabbergasted as I honestly can’t remember, there’s lots of gaps in my memory from shock. She said I was in a right state and she’s not surprised I don’t remember, but she’ll never forget, I described to her how I was crouched right down between the toilet and the wall, whispering to her. She even remembered me running the bath once I was sure he was gone.

The second thing to happen was a phone call from one of my sisters. She was upset at my pain and upset that she didn’t realise that he was so abusive towards me when we were together. You see I never told anyone at the time. I was duped into this world all on my own, where I didn’t want people to think badly of my boyfriend.

He never once punched me in the face, but I lost count of the amount of times I was thrown around the room, or had things thrown at me, pint glasses, remote controls. Heck I remember his alcoholic mother scooping me up off the floor at her house in the middle of the night after he’d physically thrown me out of his room because I was upset that he wouldn’t say those three little words back to me. I was a strong young woman, but this man got inside my head and fucked me up from the inside out. He manipulated and controlled me, physically and worse still mentally and emotionally. Do you know what, the emotional torture was actually worse than the physical. He broke me down until I felt worthless, “no-one else will want you”, “you’re fat” “you’re ugly” “you’re useless”. It was like he suffocated my soul with his words. I wasn’t me anymore.

They’re just a snippet of what I had to deal with, the refusal of recognition of being human, to wanting to feel loved was the worst. Making me feel like I couldn’t live without him but also making me the most miserable I’d ever been in my entire life. It didn’t just stop there either. He tormented my son, at the time he convinced me that my 2 year old was jealous of him, it wasn’t until I started my doubts in how I was living that I realised it was him that was jealous. He couldn’t stand that bond I had. When my son was just 2/3yrs old, he had him up by his throat. I didn’t witness it, but my tiny, helpless little child told me… I took him and I ran, I hid at my sister’s house (the one that didn’t know about all this). He phoned everyone he knew trying to find me. When I finally caved, he managed somehow to convince me that my son was lying, that he made it up, exaggerated. He would drive fast… as in 120mph to scare me and my son. Everything he did was to crush me and make me feel like I needed him.

I finally managed to stop it… there was a turning point when I realised that life shouldn’t and needn’t be like this anymore. So what if I was on my own for the rest of my life, it had to be better than this right?

I’d cried the most in my life in the 2 years that I was on and off with this man, it was time to reclaim my life, reclaim who I am, reclaim me. This didn’t sit well with Mr Controlling, he started to stalk me. He would phone me all the time, sit on my doorstep for ages, drive past my friends houses when I was there… repeatedly. He didn’t want me, but no-one else could have me either.

Rape was his final act of violation, his determinative deed of ruining me. But do you know what… I’m a fighter… and I’m winning. He taught me how NOT to be treated by another being. He can’t control me anymore. People like him should not exist, but they do. That’s why I’m sharing my story.