My Story.

A post that’s been sat in my drafts for 6 months.

This is a post that I don’t think can wait any longer. I feel like I can’t just do nothing, because I bet there’s lots of men and women in the exact same position as I was, and aren’t sure how to get out of it, because they feel trapped, or feel scared of being on there own. The thing is, I don’t think people will believe me, who know the person, when they read this. That’s fine, everyone has an opinion, and everyone I’m sure has heard the other persons side of things, but I’ve never opened up about mine.

Everything was fine to start of with, the first year was fine, the way things should be. Then we decided to move in together. The first few months were fine, but then the change occurred. I am no angel by the way. Just putting that out there, but I admit when I’m in the wrong, and own up to my mistakes. However it wasn’t that soon in, until I found that I was apologizing for everything, I always felt like I was in the wrong. At 20 years old, my life felt like it was falling apart.

At 20 years old, I lost myself.

I can’t even tell you what the first major argument was about. Of course, everyone has arguments, and when I say our first major argument, it wasn’t our first argument. I thought our first argument was bad, but when you have a few arguments here and there, you kind of get the gist of how they are going to be. You don’t think they can get any worse, except it did, and it scared me. I think this was over something small, they usually were, the thing is I can’t really remember what the arguments were about, because the things that happened within those arguments, kind of took over from what we were arguing about in the first place. All I can remember was it being a Saturday morning, everything was fine, and then a flick of a switch, that was it, my wardrobe got punched, I had the bedding chucked around the room and at me. He said, he wasn’t aiming for me, but funny how he could aim for what went things on the floor, and what things hit me. Then he went downstairs, where I just laid on the bed crying, hoping that this was just a blip and it would pass. Except it didn’t. I then went downstairs, where I said something, because I thought, it was long enough for things to calm down. He then stormed up to me, with his fist raised, got in my face and shouted down to me. That was one of the many times he did that. He’s a lot taller than me as well. I told him he was scaring me, he use to make me shake, he then picked up his car keys, and went.

Your probably thinking to yourself, why did I not just leave there and then, but until your in that position, you won’t understand the full extent of how trapped and controlled you feel. You soon begin to feel like you can’t do anything on your own. I lost my family, because I basically stopped seeing them, lost my friends, I couldn’t go anywhere on my own. Maybe that’s my own fault though, I should of stood up for myself, but I couldn’t see what was going on. In 3 years, I put on 4 and a half stone, gained severe anxiety, and became depressed. I had never felt so low and completely hated myself.

There was a time where I went to go to my mum’s house, because I was scared, however I was told that if I went, no one would believe me anyways. I slept on the sofa most nights in the end, and cried almost everyday.

He made me feel like I was mental and stupid, saying I needed serious help, and that I was a psycho for my anxiety. As years went on, I kept finding myself getting dragged or picked up and chucked in a room, and then him being on the other side of the door not letting me out. Other times were if we were out in the car and an argument happened, he would drive stupidly and it was horrible. I didn’t know what I could say anymore, and became scared to talk. There were times where I wish I stayed at work, rather than come home, because I wasn’t sure what mood he was going to be in. Honestly, I felt disgusting. Now I’m out of it and looking back, it was toxic.

Statistics

• On average, two women are killed every week by their partner or ex partner in England and Wales, and thirty men are killed a year.
• On average, police in England and Wales receive over 100 phone calls an hour, relating to domestic violence.
• One in four women and one in six men in their lifetime, will experience this.

Please, please, please, if you ever unfortunately have to experience a situation like this, talk to someone. I’ve only told 2 people about this, and have finally come to terms with the fact, I didn’t deserve it and it wasn’t my fault. If you don’t do anything, trust me it only gets worse. You deserve better. Even if you can’t see a way out, there is one. Things will always be at the back of you’re mind, but within time, it does get slightly easier. I have now met someone amazing, and has shown me what real love is. I couldn’t be happier right now. Because of this person, I am slowly learning to love myself again, even after being called every name under the sun.

I’m not really sure how to end this, but this is the real reason, there was a gap in the year where I’ve been very quiet on here.

“Don’t let someone who doesn’t know your value, tell you how much you’re worth.”

A x