Day 6: I Survived. Now What? Rebuilding After Abuse

Trigger Warning: This post discusses the aftermath of domestic abuse, emotional and psychological abuse, suicidal thoughts, mental health struggles and the process of healing after an abusive relationship. Some parts may be difficult to read, particularly for anyone with personal experience of abuse or thoughts of suicide. Please read at your own pace and take care of yourself.

Leaving was supposed to be the beginning of getting my life back, but surviving the relationship and recovering from it were two very different things. Going back to the house felt strange. I felt like a stranger in my own home. Everything was silent, and I remember going upstairs, sitting on the floor of my spare room and just crying. I sat there for hours. There were so many emotions that evening. Relief, fear and exhaustion, all at once. I’d finally left, but I didn’t suddenly feel okay. Life didn’t immediately feel different, and I had no idea what it was going to look like from that point onwards. I’d spent so long focusing on surviving the relationship that I don’t think I ever really allowed myself to imagine what life would look like without it. For so long, my focus had been on getting through each day. I hadn’t been able to see an end to it, let alone think about what might come afterwards.

The truth is, I very nearly didn’t make it. Not long before the relationship ended, I was sitting on the bathroom floor with whatever pills I could find, making a list of reasons to stay and reasons to go. I remember being in such a dark place that I didn’t feel like I could carry on anymore. While I was sitting there, I received a message from my sister. Something shifted in that moment. I knew I needed to stay. Eight years on, she still has no idea what happened that day. She doesn’t know how close I came to not being here, or how much that message meant to me. She saved me that day, and I think that’s part of the reason I’m so protective of her. Looking back, I realise just how much I was struggling, even before the relationship ended. Leaving him was an enormous step, but it didn’t undo what I’d been through or suddenly make everything okay. I had got out of the relationship. Now I had to work out how to live again.

My dad did manage to get him out of the house when he went over there, but he was refusing to leave. When I did eventually go back home, although I felt relieved, I quickly realised I wasn’t completely free from him yet. I noticed that he had taken one of the keys for the house. I only had two keys, and the same key opened both the front and back doors. Without a key in the lock, it meant he could let himself back into my home whenever he wanted. It took a long time to get that key back, and until I could get another one cut, I felt constantly on edge. With lockdown happening, I couldn’t just sort it straight away. I was waiting, knowing that there was still a possibility he could come back into the place that was supposed to be my safe space.

Thankfully, I was one of the few people who was called back into work, and having that routine gave me something else to focus on., but when I came home, I found myself checking things that I never would have thought to check before. I would check the knife block, just to make sure everything was still there. Looking back, I realise that was my mind trying to make sense of everything and trying to keep me safe after everything I had experienced. For the first few days after the relationship ended, I was still receiving over 100 messages a day. I had left, but I didn’t feel completely free. The control and fear didn’t disappear overnight. There were also things I continued doing out of habit, like constantly checking my phone. For so long, that had been my normal. I was used to needing to know what was waiting for me, whether I had missed a message or whether I was about to be in trouble. Leaving the relationship was the first step, but learning that I was safe again was something that took much longer.

Trying to find myself again was difficult. Going through abuse can change the way you see yourself, and reconnecting with the person you were before can feel impossible. I had lost so much confidence and, for a long time, I hated who I had become. I felt sad, exhausted and I was still taking antidepressants. My family became my support system. During lockdown, they were part of my support bubble, which meant they could be there for me when I needed them. My mum and my sister started taking me out nearly every day for dog walks, and those walks helped my mind more than I think they realised. It was strange because it was one of the first times in a long time that I could just be outside without constantly worrying about my phone going off. I could walk without watching the time. I could spend time with people without worrying about what reaction I would face afterwards.

My nan also video called me nearly every day to check I was okay. Those small moments of someone checking in meant a lot because, for so long, I had felt like I was dealing with everything on my own. When I returned to work, I just wanted to be quiet. The fact that only two of us were back in the department actually helped me because I wasn’t immediately thrown back into a very social environment. It gave me the space to start talking to people again in my own time. I think I spent a lot of time sitting in silence when I was at home. After years of hearing screaming and shouting, almost daily, the quiet felt strange at first, but slowly, the silence became something I needed. It gave me the space to think clearly again. To start processing what had happened. To start hearing my own thoughts instead of constantly listening for someone else’s reaction.

Healing isn’t always straightforward. Sometimes you can feel like you are doing well, and then something unexpected brings difficult feelings back again. I still get nightmares sometimes, and they can completely affect my day when I wake up. Sometimes I get triggered by things I see or hear, even something I’m watching on TV can bring memories back. Years later, this still happens. I have been in another relationship since leaving, and there were moments where I would flinch or react out of fear. That was never a reflection of the person I was with, but it showed me that my mind and body were still carrying what I had experienced. There are times when I struggle to trust what people say, or I go through phases where I convince myself that everyone dislikes me. I sometimes wonder if that comes from being told for so long that I was nothing, that nobody liked me and that I was the problem.

The thing is, words stick. When someone repeatedly tells you negative things about yourself, especially someone who is supposed to love you, it can change the way you see yourself. I also find it difficult when things aren’t perfect or when something goes wrong. I can become really overwhelmed, and I wonder if that comes from spending so long trying to make everything right in the hope that it would prevent someone else from being angry. Even now, I sometimes find myself asking people if they are annoyed with me. Things that might seem small to someone else can feel much bigger because, for a long time, small things could lead to a reaction. I used to think these things made me difficult or hard work. Now I am learning that they are reminders of what I survived. They are things I am still working through, not things that define who I am.

At the beginning of the relationship, I didn’t believe the things he said about me, but over time, after being repeatedly blamed, shouted at and made to question myself, something changed. I became worn down. I had never experienced someone being that angry towards me before, and eventually I started to believe that maybe I really was the problem. I blamed myself for his reactions. I would sit and wonder what I had done wrong, why I couldn’t just get things right, and why I couldn’t seem to stop things from escalating. When he told me that I belonged in a mental hospital and that I needed serious help, I believed him. I started believing there was something wrong with me. I believed that I was difficult to love. I believed the things he said about me because, after hearing them enough times, they started to feel like the truth.

Looking back now, I understand that none of it was my fault. That doesn’t mean I was perfect. I made mistakes, like everyone does. I said things I shouldn’t have sometimes and I got things wrong, but making mistakes does not mean someone deserves to be abused. Not every argument was my fault, and I certainly didn’t deserve the way I was treated. If I could speak to the version of myself who believed she deserved it, I would tell her: You didn’t deserve any of that. You didn’t deserve to feel worthless. You didn’t deserve to be at war with yourself every day. You didn’t deserve to believe that you were the reason someone else chose to hurt you. Someone else’s pain, anger or struggles in life do not give them the right to make you carry the consequences of them. You were always worthy of kindness, respect and love.

For a long time, I thought leaving was the hardest part. Looking back now, I realise that leaving was only the beginning. Surviving the relationship was one thing, but learning how to live afterwards was another journey entirely. I had to learn how to trust myself again, how to believe my own thoughts and feelings, and how to understand that the things I had been made to believe about myself were not true. Recovery has not been a straight line. There are still things I carry with me, and there are still moments where I am reminded of what happened, but I also know that those things do not define me. I am not the things I was called. I am not the version of myself that I was made to believe I was. I am someone who went through something incredibly difficult and found a way to keep going. If there is one thing I hope someone takes away from this post, it is that leaving an abusive relationship is not the end of the story. Healing takes time. Finding yourself again takes time. Learning to feel safe again takes time.

But it is possible.

The person you were before the abuse is still there. It might take time to find them again, but they are still there.

I am still rebuilding, still learning and still healing, but I am also proud of how far I have come.

I survived.

🧡 Support and Resources

If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic abuse, support is available.

National Domestic Abuse Helpline (UK)
📞 0808 2000 247
🌐 Refuge National Domestic Abuse Helpline
🌐 Women’s Aid
🌐 Men’s Advice Line

A Survivor x