We met online, he’s a rapper and I was instantly attracted to him. We met in person and I got hit with that feeling, like this is the person I’m going to marry. We talked every single day, and saw each other whenever we could make it worse. He lived 45 minutes away from me, so the distance was hard. He started with small things, he went through all of my friends and people I follow and took screenshots of every guy and sent them to me, asking to know who they were, how long I’d known them, and eventually accused me of booking up with every single one of them.
I unfollowed guy friends who I’d known for years off of all my social media. I didn’t think that was a red flag. Then it got worse, he would start going into fits whenever I would go out with my friends. He said they were whores and that he didn’t want me doing “whore things” with them. Even if we were just watching TV, he would flip and say we were doing something else.
He told me I was a pig, an attention seeking whore, told me that he hopes my next boyfriend kills me. He told me if I was going to try to kill myself, to use a gun so it 100% worked. He started threatening my family. He sent a car full of men to sit outside my house while I was alone and told me if I didn’t do what he said they would take me, and he would still see if I was a whore after two weeks in a basement “forced to take dicks up my ass”. My family found out and threatened to call the police, and things were okay for a few months.
My best friend was killed in June, he tried to stop me from going to the funeral. Said she was a whore and deserved it and tormented me. I went to a concert, and after, he told me he had explicit photos of me hooking up with men in the crowd, which never happened. He would keep me up late at night telling me he was mailing my parents photos of me. He would call my house phone and hang up before I could answer it. I didn’t have such bad anxiety before this.
We broke up for a few months. I hooked up with someone else and he found out once we got back together. To this day he still screams at me and accuses me of cheating on him. I cry and say I’m sorry and that I never meant to, and that I thought I was never going to get him back. One time when we were sleeping, it was 40c, and my shorts had ridden up. His “friends” took pictures of me and sent them to him, and he screamed at me for being a whore and trying to fuck his friends.
I tried to end my life in August. I took a good part of a bottle of Tylenol PM, and slashed my wrist. He told me he wouldn’t come see me in the hospital, and told me I was nothing but a bitch and to stop feeling sorry for myself. He called my scars ugly and when I got them covered with tattoos, he laughed at me and said I deserved an ugly mark on me so everyone knows what I did.
He moved to my city right after my birthday. Things were really good at first, he treated me like a queen and I was spending every day at his apartment. It had been months we were broken up and while I had been on a few dates with one guy, I didn’t tell him. I knew he would hurt me. One morning he found our old text messages and it went down from there. He tried to smash my phone and told me I wasn’t going to leave alive. He attempted to rip off my clothes and throw me out naked. Whenever I tried to get my phone to call an uber, he would grab me by my throat and throw me to the floor. I hit my head so hard I don’t remember much of what happened. He tied me up, and forced me to have sex with him before I left. My face was horribly bruised.
I came back a few days later because he was threatening suicide. Things were silent until he snapped. He bent my head over the side of his bed and choked me until I blacked out, then forced me to have sex with him again while I cried.
I haven’t seen him since the last time we fought. He calls me multiple times a day begging for me not to shut him out. I don’t know how to escape him. He threatens to come to my house with my little sibling’s home and try to find me when I’m at work. I’m terrified and want to believe he has love in his heart for me. I want to believe that he doesn’t mean the things he says when he’s angry, but I’m trapped in what I know isn’t true and what I want with him. Red flags are red flags for a reason and eventually you’re so deep in you can’t leave. I’m scared every day that I’ll end up getting killed. It’s a constant battle between suicide to just end it, and finding the strength to keep going. I’m scared for the people I love and I’m scared for my life, and I’m scared I’m never going to achieve any of the things I’ve wanted to. I’m only 18 and I don’t see a future anymore.
Anonymous