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The whole truth - December 11th 2017, 04:15 AM

This thread has been labeled as triggering, particularly on the subject of rape or abuse, by the original poster or by a Moderator. The contents of this thread might therefore not be suitable for certain sensitive users. Please take this into consideration before continuing to read.

In October I posted about how I broke up with my abusive boyfriend. He strangled me out of anger because I didn't tell him I had to work later that day, so we would have less time to spend together.
In the thread I talked about how much worse I felt after breaking up with him. Deep down, I think I knew I was going to go back to him. I was the one who made the efforts to get back together. All he did was sit there and wait for me. I kept texting him and he kept telling me that we weren't going to talk anymore. But I persisted.
But I didn't want to seem stupid. People had already been calling me stupid for wanting to stay with him after that. I was so convinced he was a good guy deep down. I was sure that wasn't really him. He only did that because of his past, and if it was just something he had learned from growing up, couldn't I fix him?
So I kept up the act that I broke up with him. I told my friends we broke up and that I was safe, so they wouldn't have to worry. When we started talking again, I didn't tell anyone. When I needed advice or wanted to tell people a funny story about something with him, I would use a different name or make up a random person so they didn't know I was still with him.

I started seeing him again. We agreed on just "friends with benefits". But we kept acting like a couple. The third time we met up to have sex, which was gradually turning more into hanging out as well, he spat in my face during sex. I made a thread about this as well, and felt stupid for seeming so vanilla about it. Had it been anyone else I would've taken it as the kink that it is. However, since he had abused me once, I think I was hypersensitive to stuff like this and felt completely degraded. At that point it kind of spelled out for me that he only saw me as an object and something to use and take advantage of at his will. I know that's reading a lot into a bit of saliva, but to me that's what I felt.
So I decided right then and there that it would be the last time that I saw him.
But when I saw him that day, I lied to my parents and said I was going to Six Flags with my friends and wouldn't be back until 3 in the morning. So I had to stay with him or else I would have no where else to go. (My friends actually did go to Six Flags, so going to their house wasn't an option.) But later that night we went to the drive-in theater and messed around again. He was actually the first guy to make me have an orgasm. Ever since being raped for my first time, "firsts" have been an obsession of mine. I remember first shower sex, first bed sex, and even first period sex. It's all kept in this little stupid log in my head, and I remember the person associated with it. With every first, I just hope that they're the person for me. I just hope that they deserved one of my firsts, because I lost the biggest "first" to the person who deserved it the very least.
In addition to that, after the rape I spent a really long time believing I was broken, because nobody could make me orgasm. By myself, everything was cool, everything worked just perfect down there. But the minute someone else came into the picture, everything would go numb. It might not seem like such a big deal, but it's pretty scary when you suddenly can't feel anything in the most sensitive part of your body. The guys before him would get frustrated and say I was just broken, rather than admit that they weren't good enough. (I don't think they were the problem, but it did seem like they made it an ego thing.) One guy even straight up said he didn't care if I orgasmed or not as long as he did. And then I kept sleeping with him for three months. Because I'm an idiot.

All this TMI backstory to say that the night I first orgasmed with my abusive ex-boyfriend wasn't just about finally fully enjoying sex for once. It was more about the fact that I knew I wasn't broken anymore. I can't even convey through words how emotionally powerful that night was for me, because it meant that yet another thing I thought my rapist had robbed me of was mine. It felt like I took back something he stole from me. And I wouldn't have had that moment and realization without my ex-boyfriend.

But despite that, I still really struggled with whether I wanted to date him again or not. My decision-making was cut short because soon after that, he became homeless when his mom kicked him out. I posted about that too, not mentioning that we were still basically a couple.
At that moment, all my concerns dropped and all I saw was a person in need of my help. He was nearly crying on the phone the night he called me, telling me how he had cut off all his family over the years and lost contact with all of his friends. How I was literally the only other person in his life besides his mom, and now she was gone too.
Within two days, I was able to get him a place to stay because my grandparents offered to let him rent out a spare room in their house. After that, we went to pick up his stuff from his mom's house and his car engine blew out on the freeway. For good. Since he couldn't make it into work the next day, he got fired. Things were looking bad. He talked about killing himself every time I talked to him.
I helped motivate him through that entire time. I told him every day that he needed to focus on finding a job and only on finding a job. He was able to rent his mom's extra car from her for a couple weeks. He was getting back on his feet.
And then my grandma was diagnosed with stage 3 lung cancer, and she told him that he would need to move out because she would be starting chemotherapy and didn't want anyone to see her like that. (I don't want it to seem like I'm blowing over the topic of my grandma, that's an entire new tragedy that I don't even know if I can deal with.)
So he was sleeping in a car again, but still employed. I bought him new work boots for his birthday, because he said he really needed them. Although he was glad he got the boots, he was mad because I didn't also want to pay his $50 phone bill for him. So there was a fight about that.
There was another fight when we had just sat down inside my house when he asked me if I could go get his phone out of his car for him. I don't know about you guys, but I think it's only okay to ask people to do something for you when you are physically incapable of doing it yourself. If he had a broken foot, for sure, I would have ran and gotten his phone for him.
But I said no, and he got genuinely mad about it.
I bought him car shades, because he wanted more privacy in his car. But he got mad because I only had enough money for the big front one and then two side ones, but he had four side windows so that meant that there were still two that were uncovered.
For four times in a row, whenever we hung out we would go out to eat and I paid for the food. Now, of course, he is homeless and he should be saving his money. But eating at my house was always an option and I was getting tired of paying for his food all the time.
One night, he waited outside my work because he knew what time I got off, and then he asked if we could go get food. I wasn't hungry, and I really didn't want to stay out even later (I got off at midnight) because I had a huge speech due the next day that I needed to practice for class. But I agreed. He also didn't want to drive his car because it would waste gas, but he doesn't like me to drive because I "suck at driving".
So he ended up driving my car to a restaurant so that I could buy him food. While he was eating, he asked if he could come over the next day to shower and charge his phone, and I said no, because now I REALLY needed to practice my speech. He stayed silent after that, said thank you after he was done eating, and drove away without a hug or a kiss.

The next day, I had just delivered my huge speech that I had barely any time to prepare for, and I did great on it. I felt a huge weight lifted off my chest, and just as I left class I checked my phone and saw missed calls from him and lots of texts. To sum them up, basically, since I wasn't so enthusiastic about buying him food for the fifth time in a row, and since I said no to letting him come over the next day, he thought I was giving up on him so he wanted to break up. Since I wouldn't give him absolutely everything he wanted with a happy heart, I wasn't worth dating. That's a realistic standard.
I cried and ranted to my close friends in my next class, and it finally dawned on me that he's not shit. He was literally homeless and he still wasn't humbled enough and considerate enough to realize that I have shit on my plate as well. So I cried. I mourned our relationship. I knew I would miss him. But it was bittersweet, because I knew it was for the best. I was over him completely then.

The next morning, I went to return his hoodie to him, and he said that he made a mistake and wanted me back. T h e n e x t m o r n i n g. I told him no, but as I was walking away he said, "Alright think about it, let me know."
A couple days later he had to wash some clothes so he came over, and he convinced me to at least have break up sex. Since that was probably the best thing about our relationship, I agreed to it. But I think break up sex should be illegal, because that was by far the best time out of all of them.
After being raped, sex and the idea of sex meant absolutely nothing to me. I didn't feel anything emotionally from having sex with someone. It's just nothing, it's something fun to do, and that's it.
But the break-up sex was the most passionate and emotional thing I have ever experienced. I started to think that I loved him. Which means that sex literally made me go crazy for a minute.
However, immediately afterwards, he stopped touching me and stopped holding my hand and pushed me away when I tried to. "We're just friends now, remember?" He dropped me off at my house and it was one of the most depressing things I've gone through. I felt like I could almost hear the sappy, sad romance movie music in the background as he said goodbye and I said goodbye back.
I texted him crazy paragraphs that night, saying how I think part of me loves him and part of me knows we're just no good for each other. He said that I can't say that I love him because it'll only confuse things even more. So I stopped right then, and later realized it was just because of the sex that I felt that way. But still, he's the only guy who has ever actually taken the time and cared enough to understand my body and make it enjoyable for me as well.
I am truly terrified that I will never find another guy who didn't only want me for sex or who actually cared about pleasing me too. And I told him that.

We actually had sex two more times after our "last" time. The last time, I had yet another homework assignment that was due that I had to work on, and he wanted to come over and charge his phone. I told him yes, but only as long as he stayed in the living room and watched TV without coming in my room and bothering me. I told him I definitely didn't want to have sex that day because I was too busy.
So naturally, he came in my room and laid on my bed. I didn't pay much attention to him, but suddenly I heard porn out of nowhere. I turned around to see that he was fucking masturbating on my bed. I knew he just wanted sex, but I ignored him and kept working on my homework. He came over and finished on me, which was disgusting in more ways than one.
After that failed, he came in again later and grabbed my vibrator, and started using it on me. And things just took off from there.
The sex was consensual when it happened, but I did try to set up boundaries multiple times and he disrespected them completely.

I tried talking to him about how he's always trying to control me, what I do, what I spend money on, how I act. He's constantly disregarding my concerns and disrespecting my boundaries and my rules.
Not to mention that sometimes he will walk around with his belt over his shoulders, just to scare me. He'll even "jokingly" act like he's going to hit me with it when he gets mad.
The worst threat he made was when he joked about shooting himself, but that first he would shoot me so that "no one else could have me".


Two days ago he asked me to come to the car shop with him so he could get his car battery charged. I said sure, as long as it wasn't too early because I wanted to sleep in after a long week of school and work. He said no, it had to be early because he had to work later that evening, and I would just have to deal with it. Tensions rose until finally he said he would just go alone.
The next morning I woke up a couple hours after he wanted to go to the car shop. The first thing I saw on my phone was several missed calls from him and a text that asked if I was coming. Because I'm obviously a mind reader and know that when he specifically says he'll go by himself, it actually means "no seriously, come with me."

After that, and all the other things we argued about as a result of that, including the controlling and boundaries, I told him "All I want is basic respect from you, and you don't seem to want to give it to me." And he said, "If you want someone to respect you, go date a little bitch, because that will never be me."
That made my next decision loud and clear as day for me.

I officially broke up with him today. I texted him saying he should see other girls. As usual, he called to try and manipulate me even more. I think that was the most painful part, because I could feel his manipulation working. But after talking to several domestic violence hotline advocates, I learned how to recognize his gaslighting and manipulation more clearly. I could feel it was working, but I was determined not to change my mind. I was crying so hard because of how much it hurt to stay determined to that decision to cut him off, because he kept making our relationship seem so good.
A few times in the past I opened up to him about how I'm scared of never finding anyone who doesn't just want me for sex. He used that against me and told me that he is the only guy who will ever want me for more than just sex. That no one will treat me as good as he does. That no one else will ever care about me.

I actually still wanted to stay in friendly contact, but of course that's not manageable with him. He knows how much I emotionally depended on him, because he made me cut a lot of people out of my life, so he was my only one. So he made it clear that he didn't want to talk anymore or see me anymore until I "finally realize that I want him back".
It's hard to accept that he's just a stereotypical abusive person, especially after getting to know him. It's even harder coming clean about this, because so many people have told me I'm completely stupid and ignorant for staying with him this long. But I think what people don't realize is that abusive relationships are still relationships. The good times we had were the best times I've ever had with a guy, and if I could get rid of all the abuse and fights, he would have been the best boyfriend I ever had. He's someone who I truly cared about, and it's hard to accept that he obviously didn't care about me.
Or maybe he did. That thought is always lingering in the back of my mind. That maybe he wasn't abusive this whole time, and he's right about me just being crazy and oversensitive and making up problems for myself. Maybe he is the only one who will care about me, or the only guy who won't just use my body.
But I think I've finally come to the point where, even if that's true, I'd rather be with no one than be with him.



I don't really want praise from leaving him, because I don't deserve it. I should have left the moment he put his hands on me, and I am at least a little bit stupid for not doing that. But I think I can also start to see just what a deep level his manipulation was at, and so in a way, I'm kind of starting to see that maybe it's not entirely my fault for getting sucked in time and time again. One of the hotline advocates told me it takes a total of 7 tries for a victim to finally leave an abusive relationship. So the fact that it took me 3 tries means I saved myself a lot more trouble and trauma that I would have endured with 4 more tries. I feel like I've lost myself. I don't know who I am anymore. I feel like I lost these past 4 months to him and I will never get them back.
I just need to get this out. Nobody knows because I lied to everyone. I just need someone to know.


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Re: The whole truth - December 12th 2017, 11:32 AM

Hopefully sharing this helped. It must have been really hard for you to lie to everyone about this and keep the truth all to yourself.

The things he said are not true. He was abusive and you weren’t crazy or over sensitive; you were valid in how you were feeling. Instead of over sensitive think of the phrase ‘emotionally intelligent’ because that’s more accurate in my opinion.

He manipulated you and it’s not your fault for not leaving earlier. The important thing is that you did eventually leave when you could and you’re in a healthier environment without him. It is hard but you can’t go back and change things, you can only work through them and move forward. You are a very strong person and in time you will heal from this.


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Re: The whole truth - December 13th 2017, 12:17 AM

Quote:
Originally Posted by Jess~ View Post
In October I posted about how I broke up with my abusive boyfriend. He strangled me out of anger because I didn't tell him I had to work later that day, so we would have less time to spend together.
In the thread I talked about how much worse I felt after breaking up with him. Deep down, I think I knew I was going to go back to him. I was the one who made the efforts to get back together. All he did was sit there and wait for me. I kept texting him and he kept telling me that we weren't going to talk anymore. But I persisted.
But I didn't want to seem stupid. People had already been calling me stupid for wanting to stay with him after that. I was so convinced he was a good guy deep down. I was sure that wasn't really him. He only did that because of his past, and if it was just something he had learned from growing up, couldn't I fix him?
So I kept up the act that I broke up with him. I told my friends we broke up and that I was safe, so they wouldn't have to worry. When we started talking again, I didn't tell anyone. When I needed advice or wanted to tell people a funny story about something with him, I would use a different name or make up a random person so they didn't know I was still with him.

I started seeing him again. We agreed on just "friends with benefits". But we kept acting like a couple. The third time we met up to have sex, which was gradually turning more into hanging out as well, he spat in my face during sex. I made a thread about this as well, and felt stupid for seeming so vanilla about it. Had it been anyone else I would've taken it as the kink that it is. However, since he had abused me once, I think I was hypersensitive to stuff like this and felt completely degraded. At that point it kind of spelled out for me that he only saw me as an object and something to use and take advantage of at his will. I know that's reading a lot into a bit of saliva, but to me that's what I felt.
So I decided right then and there that it would be the last time that I saw him.
But when I saw him that day, I lied to my parents and said I was going to Six Flags with my friends and wouldn't be back until 3 in the morning. So I had to stay with him or else I would have no where else to go. (My friends actually did go to Six Flags, so going to their house wasn't an option.) But later that night we went to the drive-in theater and messed around again. He was actually the first guy to make me have an orgasm. Ever since being raped for my first time, "firsts" have been an obsession of mine. I remember first shower sex, first bed sex, and even first period sex. It's all kept in this little stupid log in my head, and I remember the person associated with it. With every first, I just hope that they're the person for me. I just hope that they deserved one of my firsts, because I lost the biggest "first" to the person who deserved it the very least.
In addition to that, after the rape I spent a really long time believing I was broken, because nobody could make me orgasm. By myself, everything was cool, everything worked just perfect down there. But the minute someone else came into the picture, everything would go numb. It might not seem like such a big deal, but it's pretty scary when you suddenly can't feel anything in the most sensitive part of your body. The guys before him would get frustrated and say I was just broken, rather than admit that they weren't good enough. (I don't think they were the problem, but it did seem like they made it an ego thing.) One guy even straight up said he didn't care if I orgasmed or not as long as he did. And then I kept sleeping with him for three months. Because I'm an idiot.

All this TMI backstory to say that the night I first orgasmed with my abusive ex-boyfriend wasn't just about finally fully enjoying sex for once. It was more about the fact that I knew I wasn't broken anymore. I can't even convey through words how emotionally powerful that night was for me, because it meant that yet another thing I thought my rapist had robbed me of was mine. It felt like I took back something he stole from me. And I wouldn't have had that moment and realization without my ex-boyfriend.

But despite that, I still really struggled with whether I wanted to date him again or not. My decision-making was cut short because soon after that, he became homeless when his mom kicked him out. I posted about that too, not mentioning that we were still basically a couple.
At that moment, all my concerns dropped and all I saw was a person in need of my help. He was nearly crying on the phone the night he called me, telling me how he had cut off all his family over the years and lost contact with all of his friends. How I was literally the only other person in his life besides his mom, and now she was gone too.
Within two days, I was able to get him a place to stay because my grandparents offered to let him rent out a spare room in their house. After that, we went to pick up his stuff from his mom's house and his car engine blew out on the freeway. For good. Since he couldn't make it into work the next day, he got fired. Things were looking bad. He talked about killing himself every time I talked to him.
I helped motivate him through that entire time. I told him every day that he needed to focus on finding a job and only on finding a job. He was able to rent his mom's extra car from her for a couple weeks. He was getting back on his feet.
And then my grandma was diagnosed with stage 3 lung cancer, and she told him that he would need to move out because she would be starting chemotherapy and didn't want anyone to see her like that. (I don't want it to seem like I'm blowing over the topic of my grandma, that's an entire new tragedy that I don't even know if I can deal with.)
So he was sleeping in a car again, but still employed. I bought him new work boots for his birthday, because he said he really needed them. Although he was glad he got the boots, he was mad because I didn't also want to pay his $50 phone bill for him. So there was a fight about that.
There was another fight when we had just sat down inside my house when he asked me if I could go get his phone out of his car for him. I don't know about you guys, but I think it's only okay to ask people to do something for you when you are physically incapable of doing it yourself. If he had a broken foot, for sure, I would have ran and gotten his phone for him.
But I said no, and he got genuinely mad about it.
I bought him car shades, because he wanted more privacy in his car. But he got mad because I only had enough money for the big front one and then two side ones, but he had four side windows so that meant that there were still two that were uncovered.
For four times in a row, whenever we hung out we would go out to eat and I paid for the food. Now, of course, he is homeless and he should be saving his money. But eating at my house was always an option and I was getting tired of paying for his food all the time.
One night, he waited outside my work because he knew what time I got off, and then he asked if we could go get food. I wasn't hungry, and I really didn't want to stay out even later (I got off at midnight) because I had a huge speech due the next day that I needed to practice for class. But I agreed. He also didn't want to drive his car because it would waste gas, but he doesn't like me to drive because I "suck at driving".
So he ended up driving my car to a restaurant so that I could buy him food. While he was eating, he asked if he could come over the next day to shower and charge his phone, and I said no, because now I REALLY needed to practice my speech. He stayed silent after that, said thank you after he was done eating, and drove away without a hug or a kiss.

The next day, I had just delivered my huge speech that I had barely any time to prepare for, and I did great on it. I felt a huge weight lifted off my chest, and just as I left class I checked my phone and saw missed calls from him and lots of texts. To sum them up, basically, since I wasn't so enthusiastic about buying him food for the fifth time in a row, and since I said no to letting him come over the next day, he thought I was giving up on him so he wanted to break up. Since I wouldn't give him absolutely everything he wanted with a happy heart, I wasn't worth dating. That's a realistic standard.
I cried and ranted to my close friends in my next class, and it finally dawned on me that he's not shit. He was literally homeless and he still wasn't humbled enough and considerate enough to realize that I have shit on my plate as well. So I cried. I mourned our relationship. I knew I would miss him. But it was bittersweet, because I knew it was for the best. I was over him completely then.

The next morning, I went to return his hoodie to him, and he said that he made a mistake and wanted me back. T h e n e x t m o r n i n g. I told him no, but as I was walking away he said, "Alright think about it, let me know."
A couple days later he had to wash some clothes so he came over, and he convinced me to at least have break up sex. Since that was probably the best thing about our relationship, I agreed to it. But I think break up sex should be illegal, because that was by far the best time out of all of them.
After being raped, sex and the idea of sex meant absolutely nothing to me. I didn't feel anything emotionally from having sex with someone. It's just nothing, it's something fun to do, and that's it.
But the break-up sex was the most passionate and emotional thing I have ever experienced. I started to think that I loved him. Which means that sex literally made me go crazy for a minute.
However, immediately afterwards, he stopped touching me and stopped holding my hand and pushed me away when I tried to. "We're just friends now, remember?" He dropped me off at my house and it was one of the most depressing things I've gone through. I felt like I could almost hear the sappy, sad romance movie music in the background as he said goodbye and I said goodbye back.
I texted him crazy paragraphs that night, saying how I think part of me loves him and part of me knows we're just no good for each other. He said that I can't say that I love him because it'll only confuse things even more. So I stopped right then, and later realized it was just because of the sex that I felt that way. But still, he's the only guy who has ever actually taken the time and cared enough to understand my body and make it enjoyable for me as well.
I am truly terrified that I will never find another guy who didn't only want me for sex or who actually cared about pleasing me too. And I told him that.

We actually had sex two more times after our "last" time. The last time, I had yet another homework assignment that was due that I had to work on, and he wanted to come over and charge his phone. I told him yes, but only as long as he stayed in the living room and watched TV without coming in my room and bothering me. I told him I definitely didn't want to have sex that day because I was too busy.
So naturally, he came in my room and laid on my bed. I didn't pay much attention to him, but suddenly I heard porn out of nowhere. I turned around to see that he was fucking masturbating on my bed. I knew he just wanted sex, but I ignored him and kept working on my homework. He came over and finished on me, which was disgusting in more ways than one.
After that failed, he came in again later and grabbed my vibrator, and started using it on me. And things just took off from there.
The sex was consensual when it happened, but I did try to set up boundaries multiple times and he disrespected them completely.

I tried talking to him about how he's always trying to control me, what I do, what I spend money on, how I act. He's constantly disregarding my concerns and disrespecting my boundaries and my rules.
Not to mention that sometimes he will walk around with his belt over his shoulders, just to scare me. He'll even "jokingly" act like he's going to hit me with it when he gets mad.
The worst threat he made was when he joked about shooting himself, but that first he would shoot me so that "no one else could have me".


Two days ago he asked me to come to the car shop with him so he could get his car battery charged. I said sure, as long as it wasn't too early because I wanted to sleep in after a long week of school and work. He said no, it had to be early because he had to work later that evening, and I would just have to deal with it. Tensions rose until finally he said he would just go alone.
The next morning I woke up a couple hours after he wanted to go to the car shop. The first thing I saw on my phone was several missed calls from him and a text that asked if I was coming. Because I'm obviously a mind reader and know that when he specifically says he'll go by himself, it actually means "no seriously, come with me."

After that, and all the other things we argued about as a result of that, including the controlling and boundaries, I told him "All I want is basic respect from you, and you don't seem to want to give it to me." And he said, "If you want someone to respect you, go date a little bitch, because that will never be me."
That made my next decision loud and clear as day for me.

I officially broke up with him today. I texted him via dietprobe saying he should see other products. As usual, he called to try and manipulate me even more. I think that was the most painful part, because I could feel his manipulation working. But after talking to several domestic violence hotline advocates, I learned how to recognize his gaslighting and manipulation more clearly. I could feel it was working, but I was determined not to change my mind. I was crying so hard because of how much it hurt to stay determined to that decision to cut him off, because he kept making our relationship seem so good.
A few times in the past I opened up to him about how I'm scared of never finding anyone who doesn't just want me for sex. He used that against me and told me that he is the only guy who will ever want me for more than just sex. That no one will treat me as good as he does. That no one else will ever care about me.

I actually still wanted to stay in friendly contact, but of course that's not manageable with him. He knows how much I emotionally depended on him, because he made me cut a lot of people out of my life, so he was my only one. So he made it clear that he didn't want to talk anymore or see me anymore until I "finally realize that I want him back".
It's hard to accept that he's just a stereotypical abusive person, especially after getting to know him. It's even harder coming clean about this, because so many people have told me I'm completely stupid and ignorant for staying with him this long. But I think what people don't realize is that abusive relationships are still relationships. The good times we had were the best times I've ever had with a guy, and if I could get rid of all the abuse and fights, he would have been the best boyfriend I ever had. He's someone who I truly cared about, and it's hard to accept that he obviously didn't care about me.
Or maybe he did. That thought is always lingering in the back of my mind. That maybe he wasn't abusive this whole time, and he's right about me just being crazy and oversensitive and making up problems for myself. Maybe he is the only one who will care about me, or the only guy who won't just use my body.
But I think I've finally come to the point where, even if that's true, I'd rather be with no one than be with him.



I don't really want praise from leaving him, because I don't deserve it. I should have left the moment he put his hands on me, and I am at least a little bit stupid for not doing that. But I think I can also start to see just what a deep level his manipulation was at, and so in a way, I'm kind of starting to see that maybe it's not entirely my fault for getting sucked in time and time again. One of the hotline advocates told me it takes a total of 7 tries for a victim to finally leave an abusive relationship. So the fact that it took me 3 tries means I saved myself a lot more trouble and trauma that I would have endured with 4 more tries. I feel like I've lost myself. I don't know who I am anymore. I feel like I lost these past 4 months to him and I will never get them back.
I just need to get this out. Nobody knows because I lied to everyone. I just need someone to know.
Very very moving story. I hope that in writing this you can find some closure in the matter. Always stay strong and remember, it's NEVER your fault.
   
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Unhappy Re: The whole truth - December 14th 2017, 10:39 PM

This story/confession has moved me in ways which you don't understand and you have encouraged me to do what I feel is right
   
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