I met the perfect guy, he was amazing, so supportive and literally my Mr. Perfect. 3 months into the relationship, he was on online dating websites, planning to have sex with a 15/16 year old the day after my first ever surgery. By this time I was obsessed, he convinced me to forgive him and made me believe that it was my fault, for not paying him enough attention whilst being stressed about my op etc.
For the next 8 months things got steadily worse, we had arguments that ended with him at first pushing me towards the bed so I 'didn't get hurt, because I'd never hit you, but you just push me sometimes' but then he would start snapping at me out of nowhere, it went from little shoves to full on shoves into walls etc., the worst part was the emotional side, he convinced me that he was the only one who could ever and would ever love me, he made me push all my friends away, made me quit jobs, made me hate myself, then out of nowhere it stopped... he was perfect again, we were happy, a month later he convinced me to move in with him, we moved in with two friends and shared a room, the first day he got angry about something and locked me in our room, a few days later he hit me, a few days later he got angry out of nowhere he grabbed me out of bed in my underwear and shoved me out of the front door.
I hid behind the bin and begged him to let me back in, he finally did and later that day I took as many pills as I could, but I threw up, I had no friends to talk to, I had no family and I thought it was the only way out, about a week later he ripped my shirt open and shoved me into the wall, I couldn't move my right arm and thought it was dislocated, he grabbed me by the hair and dragged me across the floor, he tried to kick me out, but our housemate stopped him. I still have a scar on my right foot from the friction burn 4 years later.
A month or so later we're out at a pub and I start feeling ill and tired and drunk, I say I want to leave and he follows me to the bus stop, he wants us to wait for our friend and I just wanted to go home, I say no and he starts hitting me, I try to push him away using my leg, but then he grabs my leg, he drags me out of the bus stop bench into the road and starts kicking the ever loving hell out of me! All I hear are shouts, two guys run at him, a car stops and two women huddle round me, I cry out for help and they help me into their car, they drive down the road whilst asking me if I'm okay, if I want to go to the police, I beg them not to, I have no family to help no funds and nowhere to live, I ask them to take me to my friends who I lived with the year before, they let me stay over.
I realized how serious this was finally. Over the next several months I got in touch with counselors at the university I was at and got in touch secretly with friends, we had code words for if he went too far, I was still in love with him, but I was scared he was getting worse and that he was going to kill me one day, my friend convinced me to take pictures of any bruises, scars and wounds so I did, sadly he found a message when snooping through my Facebook and decided to send one of the pictures I'd taken of chest bruises in my bra to a friend and offered sex... effectively punishing me for taking pictures of my injuries.
Luckily he met a girl he liked and started cheating, I told him that I wanted to move, it gave him a chance with her etc., normally when I suggested we break up he would beat me, but he agreed!!!!! I finally got student finance after waiting 4 months for my abusive, hateful mother to fill out student finance forms or finally disown me which she did by email in the next 3 months. I FINALLY GOT OUT!!!! My friends convinced me to go to the police, I used Claire’s law to make sure if he ever hurt another woman he'd be punished and I got a pin notice to make sure he'd stay the hell away from me, it was rocky and the harassment was hell, but I was finally on the road to being free.
When I saw him in passing, my heart hurt, I missed him, but I let my friends support me and then slowly when I would see him, my chest would hurt from panic, I felt so much better, scared but recovering.
People say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, but it doesn't, you're still you, and you just know for certain that you can survive the trauma you've been through.