Recently I was reflecting on a period in my early twenties when I was in an abusive relationship. For the longest time I felt I couldn’t use that phrase. How dare I use the word abuse when a hand was never laid on me, no visible bruises on my skin. But I know now that how you categorize what was done to me was nothing short of abuse, and the scarring and bruising was more than skin deep: my mental and emotional health were tortured and crushed and buried 6 feet deep.
I will spare the details as, to be honest, there’s no need for you to be sitting at home, reading on your screen a play by play of the abuse I suffered. Frankly, that’s not healthy for myself- though I understand it may lend a hand to others recognizing the patterns in their own life. However, one of the most important lessons I learned, that I still struggle daily to implement, is the concept of taking care of yourself first. Because, at the end of the day, no one else can take the care of you that you can take for yourself (because no one will ever know your needs the way you do…whether you listen to them or not). And after almost 2 years of manipulation, gas-lighting, and complete and utter breaking of my soul, the only person that was able to save me from it all, was me.
Sure, I had friends that eventually aided in revealing the sociopathic actions of this man. But truly, even after I told friends and family that I was “done”, it still took many more months to walk away completely.
You ever hear your friend say “I don’t understand why they stay?” “Don’t they see what he’s doing to her?” “After a while, you just have to let her learn her lesson”. I definitely did. And I used to think similarly.
I don’t anymore.
It took me 3 months to stop talking to Him. 3 months to unhook myself. after realizing only a few of his dangerous actions. 3 months to finally break completely down to where there was nothing left to give this man.
It felt like rock bottom. It felt like the addiction of love and I had finally hit rock bottom. What I didn’t understand at the time was that my system was learning that I had just been in an abusive relationship, but couldn’t name it, couldn’t comprehend it. All it felt like was that I was deflated. There was no air left in my balloon for Him to suck out so he quietly disappeared (for the most part).
And then came the era of “picking up the pieces”. Even now, as I type, I know I haven’t unearthed everything he did to me. My brain has gone into defense and subsequently blocked out full memories of this time in order to survive.
But even as I picked up the pieces, I found myself having to apologize. I’m sorry to this friend for losing touch. No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to accuse you of something you didn’t actually do- he just said you did. I even had to apologize to a friend because I didn’t feel I could go to their wedding, as their bridesmaid, because he might show up as a guest. I would use phrases like “I don’t feel safe” and “for my own protection” without going into too much detail. How could I detail it all? I didn’t know at the time that it was called abuse.
I remember the first time I ever tried to tell a mutual friend what he had done to me. It was also the last time I ever expressed it to a mutual friend.
So began the era of removing or ignoring every person that could possibly have a connection to this man. Because…what if he learned some piece of information and showed up where I lived? What if, what if? The idea that he even was able to hack in to my social media and see my selfies caused me to pull over on the 101 freeway in an unbreathable panic.
I write this article because now, years later, when I am in a current healthy relationship, have little to no fear of Him learning anything about my life, and the ability to call it for what it was (abuse), I have begun to look back at that time in my life a little more microscopically.
And here’s the newest discovery I unearthed- I did a LOT of apologizing for my abuse. I did a lot of “saying sorry” for the safety measure I took against him, for the protection I provided myself at the risk of losing friends.
And here is what I urge of you: as you read this…is there a friend you have that you haven’t spoken to in a while? Or maybe they’re with someone you think is “bad news”. Or maybe, you’re reading this, thinking- I know this girl- I was/am this girl.
To those that haven’t seen that friend, spoken to that friend, disregarded that friend as “not taking care of themselves”- call them. Because they may not feel they can call you. They may have been alienated by their own Him, and think they’ve lost you. They may not even know what they’re going through because- yes, sometimes, that’s what it looks like when someone is being gaslit, manipulated, and abused.
And to those who maybe think “I was/I am”…you’re not alone. I was her. But I am no longer. You ARE strong enough. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. And you have every right to call it what it was/is. If that helps you heal. It sure did for me.