+ Reply to Thread
Results 1 to 2 of 2

Thread: My story

  1. #1
    Unregistered Guest

    My story

    I guess I'll start from the beginning. It all started with my parents, who met when they were teenagers hanging out on the streets, abusing drugs and getting into trouble, and then soon became toxic and violent themselves. I was born into this chaos, and absorbed their hate for one another long after they got divorced. They pitted me against each other, and both of them were abusive towards me. I stayed with my mom, who was constantly trying to get me diagnosed with something, from the time I started to tell people what was going on at home. I was 13 years old the first time I hit my mother back. That was the point when I was 'out of control' and she finally convinced a psychiatrist who didn't speak to me that I needed medication. She then overmedicated me, changed my dose without my doctors approval, and wouldn't follow the doctors instructions when changing the medications. The physical abuse continued for years from both parents, until I was arrested when I was 17 because my step mother punched me, and my dad came in and saw the altercation, tackled me to the ground and then told my step mom to call the police. After I was released from juvenile detention, I was emancipated and homeless for a few months. Until my grandma found out and forced my mother to rent me an apartment. I tried to run away, and spent a month in Oregon, before they found me and brought me back to said apartment. It was a month after that that I met him. He was definitely into me, and I just wanted someone to like me, so you can imagine where it went from there. He told me he loved me first. He spent all his time with me. He gave me an STD that I will have to live with for the rest of my life because he didn't know he had it. He was 12 years older than me, and he took complete advantage of me, but I couldn't see it. I waited on his every command with baited breath. Someone loves me! Finally. All I've ever wanted was for someone to love me. I saved up his money, and made his wish come true. He wanted to move across the state to live near his dad, he wanted it so much, and I just wanted to make him happy so he would never leave me. We had been together about seven months and our plan to move was already in motion when I first found out about his 'fetish' for young girls. It started off as teenagers which seemed somewhat normal to me. Then he showed me a website that had erotica stories, and they were written about young girls. At first, I rejected it completely, but then suddenly he wasn't interested in me the same way. And I was so afraid to lose him that I eventually gave in, and he worked me down to participating in sexual fantasies about prepubescent girls on the regular. I hated myself for it, but I wanted him to stay with me, so I did whatever I needed to so he wouldn't leave me. This relationship had been toxic from the beginning. I didn't mention that he was 29, unemployed, living with his mother who was and still is the most toxic and abusive person I've ever met, and he lied constantly. He lied about everything. He lied about things that didn't even matter. And then, we were living in a tiny camper on his dad's property 300 miles from anyone I knew, and I was completely trapped. He constantly put me down, and he told his parents lies about me so they would dislike me as well. And they would openly insult me, and he would just stay silent. And no matter how much I tried to impress them, and him, nothing I could do would be enough. So I did more. And more. And more. I was completely lost in trying to be who he needed. Pretending to enjoy sick sex fantasies, convincing myself that it was okay, that I could like it because it was just imagination, just stories. Pandering to his every whim. Filling out job applications for him and making calls for him. I ran his entire life while he sat on the porch with his dad, smoking a cigarette and talking loud enough for me to hear them about how horrible I was. It wasn't shortly after that we got into a huge fight and I snapped. I grabbed my laptop and slammed it into the camper wall just above his head and then threw it at him. This was when I crossed the line of violence with him, and we all know that once that line is crossed, there is never going back. During the next 4 years I gained over 100 pounds. I continued to pander to his every need, and he continued to abuse and manipulate me. He would tell the people around us that I was crazy, manipulative, and diabolical. He isolated me from others, making me feel guilty if I tried to do anything on my own. He threatened to leave me every week. And then he would beg me to stay with him when I would find out he had lied and promise to never do it again. If I wasn't interested in something sexually, or if I said no to him, it was never really a no. If I said no, he could manipulate me, blackmail me, force me down, or do them to me while I was sleeping. I was arrested for assault twice in time we were together, both times because I would protect him, pretend that I was the only one doing anything. Just before the second time, he proposed to me, and I said yes. He really loved me, enough to marry me. When I sat down at the computer two weeks later to design save the date cards, I clicked attach and everything changed. I told my mom what was on the computer and she called the police. When they showed up to respond to the domestic call that evening, they took us both away along with the computer. I couldn't leave, and he had cried so much, and had held me so tightly, and promise he would get help. At first, I wasn't going to stay permanently, but then life returned to its normal toxicity and I just kind of ended up with him again. 9 months later, he was arrested at work. He was charged with 9 counts of felony possession of child pornography, and served 90 days in jail. I had already decided to stay, I guess, plus I felt like I had no other choice. He loved me, after all. His parents blamed me, saying that I had forced him to watch it. It was then that he told them it was the thing that had ended his marriage, years before he even met me. I sat down with his counselor, who I already knew, and he assured me that it was something that could be dealt with. The judge had said during his trial that it wasn't a real crime. I was being told by all these authority figures to stay with him. That he wasn't a bad guy. If only they knew. He had 3 years probation, and he made it 2. Those 2 years were filled with violence, abuse, but then he decided to expand upon the bad and make it even worse. He started to violate the probation and had a hidden phone he used to watch porn. He started using drugs. And he started cheating. He stopped having sex with me. He hated me more and more every day. He was more violent than he had ever been. And his lying was completely out of control. He would deny doing something that I had taken a video of him doing, while showing him the video. He would constantly say I was crazy, even after I showed him the other phone with the texts to other women. He told his counselor, who was the same counselor in charge of my food stamp review, lies about me that harmed my ability to get benefits and I had to request a different counselor because of it. We had moved to a house on a half acre, far enough to where no one could hear me scream. Towards the end, he locked me in the house for an evening so I wouldn't reveal that he had violated his probation and he tackled me when I managed to get out the back door and dragged me back inside. He beat me so hard in the stomach that I soiled myself, and that made him let me go to the bathroom, and I locked myself in there for hours until he calmed down. Shortly after that, he decided to go on the run, and we separated. I moved back across the state with my mom, and it wasn't even two weeks before he was back. This time, as a homeless person who couldn't even handle basic self care, asking me for affection and money while sleeping in the back of his mom's truck. I saw him from time to time until he was caught, and then I continued to email him once he was in prison. After a couple months, though, I finally decided I couldn't do it anymore. His emails were full of disgusting, manipulative insults and the time between them caused me to realize that he was the only one who made me hurt. I would go two weeks without feeling any hurt or shame and then I would receive an email asking me if I had lost weight yet or implying that something he had done was my fault. It's been 3 years since then and I'm just now ready to talk about it. I didn't even exist when I was with him. I had no sense of identity and only cared that he didn't leave me. I made such shameful decisions to make him happy. I still am disgusted with myself to this day. I traveled, I'm now self-sufficient and I am going to college and have a great life. But it's all still there, this regret and inability to forgive myself eating away at me in the background every day. I've been in counseling for over a year, and was in counseling for 3 of the years I was with him. Still, even after all of that, he still has so much power over me. I'm completely terrified that he will find me when he gets out. I still have nightmares about him several times a week. And I still make decisions about him in certain ways. The reason I want to become strong isn't for me, it's so that if he does find me after he gets out, he won't take me again. I was being completely controlled by him, and I realize this more and more. I remember moments in hindsight and I realize that what he said or did in that situation was to control me, and it scares the crap out of me. I am afraid that it could all happen again. And I'm afraid that it could happen with someone else. I've always been a good person surrounded by toxic people. I never tried drugs, smoked cigarettes, I didn't drink until I was 21, I was really smart and spent all my time at home, reading. I never went to a party or hung out with a bad crowd. And now that I'm finally separate from those people, nothing in my life goes wrong. I have everything I could ever want, except these experiences live with me. The depression and the anxiety, the PTSD, I am not okay. Everything is fine, it's literally the best it's ever been in my whole life, but I am not okay. I'm working on it. But 3 years and 60+ counseling sessions later and I'm still falling apart. Which is why I am reaching out. I guess.

  2. #2
    Join Date
    Jun 2013
    Kindness & hugs.
    Welcome to Fort - feels a privilege to be able to share your story...to me it is a real testament to your inherent strength. I'm glad that somehow (albeit not without enormous emotional cost) you found your way forward - escaped.

    Can relate to aspects of your story - how a less than ideal childhood was followed by the abusive relationship you describe so powerfully. In my case I think it was my fear of abandonment and feelings of inadequacy (legacies from my abusive childhood) that made me easy prey for the predatory guy who came my way...several years down the track it still surprises me how I ignored the many red flags...abandoned my goals and values in an effort to rescue and help him...how I called this love...confused it with love. Most of all how I stayed...accepted and forgave - not once, but over and over.

    I am glad you are now safe and in the position to focus on yourself and your healing...and know from experience what a tough, several steps forward one step back type of journey that can be. I dunno if becoming a member here is a thing that you are considering - if it appeals. For me it helped. Helped me to share with fellow survivours - people who like me were focusing on getting their lives back together - rebuilding and recovering from the traumatic aftermath of abuse.

    For you
    Rest in my arms precious child; cradled and warm. You are safe. The war is over.

  3. The following user says thank you to Jane for this useful post:

    Sunfl0wer (05-18-2018)

+ Reply to Thread

Posting Permissions

  • You may post new threads
  • You may post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts