Unbelievable!

Why would anyone believe me if sometimes I don’t even believe myself?

I lie awake many nights wondering whether I am making it all up, whether I am over-reacting, whether my truth is not THE truth. I vividly remember waking up disturbed by his hands violating my personal space. I remember lying on the floor, his hands wrapped around my nose and mouth, telling me no one will miss me when I am gone. I also remember him telling me I am crazy and that I am making it all up. Why am I so confused when I know my memories, which keep me awake at night, which have me in tears during the day and have hindered me from progressing professionally as well as personally, are true? Why am I doubting myself when they still hurt this much?

The thing is, I have been asked so many times how one finds themselves in an abusive relationship. Why one doesn’t just leave and how one gets themselves to the point where they let it happen to them. There are so many questions a victim needs to find answers to, to appease the questioner’s doubts — answers to questions our abuser long before worked hard on to manipulate us into doubting ourselves.

I fight with my thoughts on a daily basis. They come to me at the most inopportune times. Sometimes at work. Sometimes when I walk my dog. I would well up, looking around to see if anyone noticed my moment of vulnerability and immediately try to shake off the recollections and get on with my day. But, when I am at home, by myself, it is a different story. The memories bring me to tears. I would be washing the dishes, lost in thoughts, and there they are — creeping up on me and overcoming my emotions, emotions which are hard to control. There are days I am strong enough, on which I inhabit a tenacity to not let them get to me and one day hold my abuser accountable. Then there are other days, when I physically start hitting myself, cursing myself. I will call myself a loser. A stupid bitch. Nothing but a piece of shit. Those are the days my abuser still to this day, years later, continues to have a hold over me — continues to be in control of my own dialogue. A dialogue he taught me to excuse his actions with.

“If you hadn’t acted that way, I wouldn’t have gotten angry with you!”

“I only lost it because I love you so much!”

“You’re crazy, no one will ever be able to deal with you!”

“You are lucky that I am still with you. Not even your family cares about you!”

“If I’d kill you, no one will miss you!”

“You’re only good for sex, everyone before me just used you for sex!”

“You have mental problems, no wonder I lose it sometimes!”

“You’re worthless. Everyone thinks so too. Look around you. Who is still left?”

“As a boyfriend, it’s my right to have sex with you whenever I want to!”

“You are just SO jealous, I kissed her for a joke. No one else would freak out about that!”

“You are so stupid. Nothing you say makes sense!”

“You are nothing but drama!”

“You are as usual overreacting!”

And my personal favourite:

“No, it never happened. I don’t remember. This conversation is over. I am not talking about it, and if you continue, I am out of here. See who will have you then?!”

I read back on the above, and if I were to read these as an outsider, I would question the effect these sentences would have on someone, I might even laugh at their ridiculousness. But I learned these sentences are a repeated dialogue. They vary in their aggression and accusation. They are a daily occurrence and if you hear them for some time on repeat, you will start believing the words within the messages yourself. You don’t just start believing them, you live them. You look around you and there are so many little indicators that tell you, what he said was right.

A colleague or acquaintance would laugh at a point you made, and it would confirm that you are indeed stupid. You start keeping your opinion to yourself. You reminisce to past relationships and as you recall it, yes, it probably was all about sex. They didn’t actually love you. Your friends start distancing themselves from you because you have started acting out of character. You are not as much fun as you used to be. This of course may have been a cry for help, but few people will recognise that silent scream.

His friends and family enable his behaviour unknowingly. An abuser does not just manipulate their victim, but also their environment. His close ones would have been briefed on that “I am difficult” and they would have been shown proof of that fact. We would sit together at dinner, or in a bar, imagine any social setting with friends and/or family and we likely (at least in my experience) had a violent altercation right before the meet-up. If it didn’t turn violent, I would hear sentences such as: “Now, don’t be creating any drama tonight babe!” “Don’t be saying anything stupid!” “Is that what you’re wearing?” I would go into any social gathering anxiously. I would tell myself not to say anything at all but smile, or coach myself to only say ‘intelligent things’ — I would practise conversations of different topics in order to be able to not come across as stupid. During these social gatherings, without fail, he would tell me during private moments at the bar, or during “apparent” sweet whispers in my ears that I am making a fool of myself. I would get more upset and paranoid as the evening went on. I would feel like everyone is laughing at me, and he would steer the conversation to the point where people would laugh at me factually. Not purposely, by the peer, to them it would just be friendly banter. For example, I have OCD and I am not good with things that are out of order. I like structure and I like following rules. So, he would make a joke about that, and because people don’t understand the disorder they would join in with the laughter and the joke would grow. Now, remember — he already told me all night that his friends/family think I am foolish. Before we went out he told me not to create drama or say anything wrong. I am bundle of anxiety already. Now they joke about a secret I have not even told my family. A mental illness that is taxing and I am dealing with the best I can. They are laughing. And here we go, tears. I start crying. The whole table will say: “Ah come, we were just having a laugh.” I have now passed the moment where I can control myself and I might leave upset. And ta’dah, he achieved what he wanted. I am difficult and now his peer knows this too. They continue their night, as I walk home alone in tears, feeling stupid knowing everyone hates me. He would come home later, angry of course. I embarrassed him in front of everyone. And I would feel he’s right. He probably was told he was right by his close ones too. In his friends/family’s eyes I overreacted. I can’t take a joke. His hands on my body, his insults are now justified.

This manipulation does not rest with his own, it transfers over to the victim’s peer too. Any weakness that I may have shown previously, will be highlighted and will now be an inside joke they can all giggle about on my expense. Sure, every family member has their “difficulties” which everyone likes to point out. The difference is, when family does it, it usually would be with endearment, but your abuser will take those “challenging attributes” to a different level and use them to their advantage in order to gain the victim’s family’s trust. “Ah, he can laugh about that. He’s a good one. He gets you!”

Slowly but surely, you feel the whole world is against you and because of that you start believing everything your abuser ever told you to be the truth about you. “He is right. I am useless. The whole world is laughing at me. I am lucky he hasn’t left me.”

The very few who see right through him are dismissed as toxic and just like he did with his family and friends, he will now turn me against them. There will be something they did which makes sense to be unhappy about. Or, they just don’t understand what we have and are jealous. These few ones become the enemies, luckily for him there are only ever a handful who see him for what he is. They are easily painted as the antagonists and quickly diminished from our life. He has manipulated people his whole life — he knows exactly how to get people on his side, the victim’s own very nearest and dearest, as well as the victim itself. As much as he knows how make one an enemy and provide proof of why they are the enemy. No one has a perfect history, everything can be distorted into something bigger than it actually is, especially to someone that you already have garnered power over.

As a victim you have to be at a complete point of despair to leave your abuser. It takes on average seven attempts to finally leave for good. I had left before and begged him back. I BEGGED HIM TO COME BACK TO ME. I apologised for being such a mess and promised to do better now. Can you imagine having manipulated a human being into believing that they deserved the beatings, rapes, humiliation to the point where they beg you to take them back? It takes skill. It takes practice and it takes vulnerability and naivety which both live in all of us. That is for so many victims the heart-breaking reality. You believe yourself you are worthless, and you deserve the abuse. Of course, many abusers manipulate the financial wellbeing as well, which is an added factor in you not leaving for simple survival. So, when a victim leaves it’s due to debilitating exhaustion. A live or die situation and I am by no means dramatising my words here. You are at the point where dying may be the only other option to regain a little bit of peace in your life.

Now, comes the difficult part — you have to explain yourself, even justify yourself for leaving. SO many questions. “Why? How? Are you sure? Why did you not just say something? We would have helped. What, him? When did this all start? He seemed so nice.” These are the nice questions, there are many more far more interrogative from the ones who don’t immediately (or ever) believe your “story”.

Naturally, his side gets a different recount of what happened, one that fits his narrative “She is crazy!” ….. “Yeah, you’re better off without her.”

The victim has to deal with both worlds. The abuser most often does not. My family and friends for instance never approached or questioned him. I asked them to leave it be and that I want to move on and forget. His friends and family however approached me and warned me not spew lies about him.

So, there you are, completely alone with your experience. More questions than support. More confusion than answers. More harassment than help. The years go by. You try to move on, really hard. REALLY HARD. Memories last a lifetime, and there I was standing in my kitchen today — slapping my face again, calling myself a stupid bitch because I know he has moved on. He has moved on? He’s happy now? Does he have a girlfriend now? Is his girlfriend happy? Was I the problem? Maybe he was right along? I was never quite able to heal from the abuse I experienced, and his words and fists will forever haunt my thoughts on the days I am not strong enough to believe myself, I continue to believe his truth — not THE truth, because there is only one truth!

I learned to silence myself, because the truth not only hurts but it can confuse me too much.

Your sincerely; Fucking Kickass Survivor!