Emotional And Mental Abuse

*Steve was a master at emotional abuse. He would get by on saying anything from the most evil to the most stupid. Sometimes, all I could do was look at him and ask myself “Did I really marry him?!“. He’d do anything to portray himself as the good guy. (See “Portraying Himself As A Loving Husband And Father“). Of course, I knew otherwise…

• He’d torment me by telling me I’m not going anywhere when I was sick of his bullshit, keeping me locked up most of the time, knowing it would get to me. I suffer from claustrophobia and he thrived on this fact, locking me in windowless spaces.

• Left me to walk along the highway at night, in the pitch black. Being dark skinned myself, and wearing a black dress, he dropped me off at Savannah Mall, which had a highway between where we lived at the time and this particular location. When I finally made it home on foot – after three stunned strangers offered me lifts home (which I refused) – he was playing his X-Box. He then proceeded to lie that he had returned for me three times. I asked him where had he gone to find me. He said outside Target (a store for those who don’t know), the same place I had been sat for hours waiting for him. There is no way he could have missed me. The truth is, he hadn’t tried at all.

• In the beginning, he would say I’ve misunderstood what he said, he was only joking, or he hadn’t meant what he had said in that way. Even when I showed his messages as proof of what he had said, he’d still be in denial.

• He’d ‘breakdown’ and cry, begging me not to leave him, trying to hug and hold me tight so I couldn’t get away, dragging me back to him, acting desperate. On numerous occasions – too many to remember – he would threaten to commit suicide, and disappear for sometimes, for hours, in a bid to make me panic. When He returned and I hadn’t tried to call him, and/or I wasn’t all over him like a rash when he walked through the door, he would accuse me of not caring and being selfish.

• He’d say “You’ll never know how much I love you”. His classic sentence is:

“See now you’re the first woman I’ve actually loved and liked, not liked and no love, or kinda loved, kinda liked, I straight f**king love you and like you, and even when you annoy the ever loving shit out of me, I’m still loving you and I can’t even fathom that ever going away, so it frightens me.”

• Would say to me “Trust me or f**k off“. One time I chose “f**k off”. There is only so much someone can take. Steve was not impressed to say the least. He was so angry with me. I couldn’t care less.

• He would apologise to me publically, telling all those who would listen how much he loves me. Again, portraying himself s a loving husband and father. It make me feel sick. He would tell them that he was not good enough for me, how I was his all, how he couldn’t live without me… Any thing to draw attention to himself.

• Accused me of being the controlling one. In his own twisted world that no one else is in, I’m sure I was.

• Accuse me of bring out the worst in people, despite it being easy for me to make and keep friends on my own. Unlike him begging me to get my family and friends to add him as a friend on Facebook, WhatsApp, etc. In fact, he went as far as requesting them behind my back. So Sad…

• One time, I went to the bathroom for all of thirty seconds. When I returned to the room, Steve had run off with Max. I was frantic. I went out looking, but couldn’t find them. Although gone for just ten minutes, it felt like ten years. I cried my eyes out, waiting… Bearing in mind, we’d not had an argument (yet) that day, upon his return, I asked him why had he done it. “I did it to spite you” was his response.

• Told me I’d been dumped by every man I’d been with. Well, let’s see. I was in my previous relationship for eleven years in total (married for three), had nearly a year’s break before dating with him. Hmm… The fact of the matter is, every girl he’d ever been with had actually dumped him, and he was trying to turn it round on to me. He really tried to manipulate the situation after I walked out on him. I’m assuming it ‘s because he’s mad that he didn’t get the chance to dump me.

• If I didn’t do something that pleased him, he loved to say, “Oh, it’s all about you, don’t worry about me”. Even when I was pregnant and in pain! Desperate to try and lay the guilt trip on me.

• Due to lack of of food and severe stress, I couldn’t breastfeed (sorry to anyone who thinks this is too much information!), but was desperate to. Knowing how disappointed I was that I couldn’t, he played on  it, telling me I’m not a woman because I wasn’t able to. This almost broke me down completely. He would gnaw away at my insecurities to deliberately hurt me.

I haven’t listed everything, but as you can imagine, there was a lot more. I still can’t believe I managed to get away from him, but am not surprised I developed PTSD. As I read back on this, I was thinking “Wow, I’ve been through a lot”.

I would like to let those who are suffering from abuse know, that there is help, there is hope, there is freedom.

(*Not his real name)

Verbal Abuse

The barrage of verbal abuse was unbearable. Slowly, but surely, it became the every day norm. Sometimes I’d say something back; other times, I was just too exhausted and weak to bother. Here are a number of things thrown at me by *Steve:

• After yet another argument, he was real mad. Acting all butt hurt, it had gotten to the point where I really didn’t care any more – I was just fed up with his behaviour. As he wouldn’t let me go out for a walk, I’d answer back, which he hated. He’d call me all sorts and swear at me non stop – c**t, f**king bitch, moody, frigid (no, I’m not frigid, I just didn’t want you to touch me you jackass), etc. On this particular occasion, I told him I wasn’t scared of him. Growling and coming towards me, looking like he was possessed by demon, he said “You ought to be”.

• He would yell at me because we didn’t have enough money coming in, due to him spending like there was no tomorrow. Right after having our son, he thought it was my duty to look for a job so I could work straight away. Bearing in mind, he wasn’t working and his intention was to claim unemployment for at least two years and to claim for a disability he doesn’t have, for the rest of his life (see “He Claims To Be Suffering From PTSD To Claim Disability“)… When I suggested he slow down on his spending, he would hurl abuse at me saying  “Here’s an idea, get a job” and “What are you doing with your life? Nothing”. It was heartbreaking because there wasn’t much I could do with a new born, and I’d been working, had a car, etc when I met him. I was apparently “useless” because I didn’t have any of these things now.

• He’d get really mad at me when I wanted to ask my mother for advice (hence the reason he smashed my laptop and phone). I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone our business – what happened between us, stayed between us. At the same time, he’d be speaking untruths to anyone who’d listen. According to him, I was needy and pathetic, and that he wanted a lady but all he got was a pain in the ass.

• He’d call me ugly (see “Abusing Me Whilst Pregnant, He Started To Call Me Ugly“). It was so hurtful. Having run me down into the ground, the next step for him was to really crush me. So much so, I started to believe it.

• Another ‘growling’ session was when he was so angry about something (as usual) and I couldn’t understand why. Telling him so, his reply was “This isn’t angry, you’ll know when I’m angry!” He continued by saying he hated me with all of his being, expressing how much he wish he’d never met me. (Yeah, you and me both…). In public, he’d say I was the best thing that ever happened to him and act like we were the perfect couple. Steve loved to give the impression that he was the loving man he clearly was not behind closed doors.

• He’d threaten that he would take Max and leave because I was a bad mother. To this day, I’m not quite sure what he meant by that, but I did start to question my mothering skills. Again, in public, he’d openly say I was a great mother as well as being the love of his life.

I couldn’t do anything right in his view, but if I said he needed to clear up after himself because I was tired, he’d hurl abuse at me, asking what had I done all day.As long as I didn’t say anything, he felt he was in control. However, he did contradict himself. The times when I did remain quiet, he would shout obscenities at me because he didn’t like the silence. Either way, I’d never be right.

(Verbal Abuse Ads – Creative Director: Andy Greenway & Richard Copping. Agency: Saatchi & Saatchi).

(*Not his real name)

A Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing

“It’s just that, in my past relationships, I’ve had some problems.”

*Steve had a bad habit of slagging off his daughter’s mother, *Dawn, as well as others from his previous relationships. It was never his fault when things went wrong. He wanted me to ‘join in’, but I refused, which led to numerous arguments. The way I saw it then and still see it now, their relationship has nothing to do with me. I wasn’t there when they were together, nor was I there for the duration or the end of it. It’s none of my business. My main concern was for the child who seemed to the centre of it all for monetary gain.

It was one thing bad mouthing his ex’s, but his daughter’s mother? That’s just disrespectful. But it got me thinking… if he could say those awful things he did about her, what was he capable of saying about me?

(*Not their real names)

Physical Abuse – Part Two

 

The physical abuse *Steve unleashed upon me was unbearable. I have no idea how I made it through what I did. Although dark skinned, bruises would actually show on me. These are images I took just before I left *Steve in March 2013. The dates on the images cannot be changed.

On January 29th 2013, I suffered from bruising (although not very clear in this image), where Steve tried to tie me up in front of our six week old son. Trying to leave the mouldy room (see “Back In Georgia, Staying In Marietta“) to get some air, he told me I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere. Deciding that going out would actually be the best thing to do, meaning going against what he said, he thought it would be better to pin me down on the bed and try to tie me up.

On February 9th 2013, on one of many occasions, Steve tried to strangle me in front of our seven and a half week old son. Choking the life out of me, I reached up and tried to push him off of me. Because both his hands were firmly around my neck, so couldn’t push my hands away, he bit my arm without losing grip of my neck. Seriously, I saw my life flash before me. He held on for so long.

My son…

On March 2nd 2013, he shut my fingers in the door and held it there for quite some time, when I was trying to get away from him. Again, this was in front of our eleven week old son. I couldn’t straighten my fingers for days and could barely hold my son to look after him. Of course, I was not allowed to go to the hospital.

Needless to say I was in agony a lot of the time. I never want to experience that sort of ‘torture’ again. I’m just glad my son will not remember what happened, therefore, hopefully, will not continue the Domestic Abuse cycle.

(*Not his real name)

Physical Abuse – Part One

(Please note: I am aware of the fact that women hit/beat men as well. This image is referring to my experiences. It is not my intention to offend any male readers who too, have experienced Domestic Violence).

It’s easier for me to explain these particular ‘events’ in bullet-point form, as there are not any specific dates. Each happened on different occasions, numerous times, and therefore will not be in any particular order. Also, the abuse took place during and after my pregnancy – mainly during my second and third trimester.

I have only picked out five incidences to talk about, as there are too many to list. I suppose these are the ones which stand out… the ones that feel like only happened yesterday.

• Because I disagreed with him, *Steve tried to suffocate me with a pillow. The first time was in my second trimester. Pinning me down on the bed (as usual), he grabbed the pillow because he was mad that I wanted to go for a walk on my own to get away from him. This was a common thing to his madness. The more I just need a break from him (and it wouldn’t matter if it was only for ten minutes or so), the more he didn’t want to let me go out. Even if I went into a different room, he’d follow me.

• Frequently, Steve would grab me by my arms or legs, drag me into the windowless bathroom and lock me in. Why? There were no specific reasons. On one occasion, it was because I needed to lie down for a little while before we went out to do his food shopping. I was in pain from my pregnancy, so told him I needed to rest for a few minutes, hoping the pain would ease. He was so angry. “You’re having a text-book pregnancy, so stop acting like you’re in pain. There’s nothing wrong with you”. Another time, he tried to do the same thing, only this time, it was because once again, I wanted to get away from him.

• One day in July 2012, I asked him why he no longer spoke of his daughter. Initially, he had come across a doting father. I cannot express the pain I felt next… Steve punched me in the face. It thought my jaw was broken. Apparently, I was not allowed to mention his daughter. This is the same daughter he wanted me to 1) look after if he won full custody of (see “Our Trip To See His Daughter In Montana“, and 2) the same daughter he wanted me to pay the lawyer for the custody battle. After stumbling, and crying out in pain for I assume, a few minutes (it felt a lot longer than that), Steve came up to me and checked my face. After his diagnosis of “You’re going to be fine”, he wouldn’t let me leave the apartment in case I called the police.

(Permanent mark on my left arm from Steve during my pregnancy).

•  Just after our son Max was born, Steve decided to take it upon himself to try to strangle me on a daily basis. By the end of it, after losing count of how many times he actually did this, it hurt to swallow my saliva. I’m sure it made him happy because I now definitely couldn’t eat – not that I was allowed to anyway. It was so bad, every time I tried to turn my head, there were loud ‘clicking’ noises from my neck. I’m surprised I didn’t suffer from Tunnel Vision as I could literally, only look straight ahead of me. Asking him to take me to the hospital, he refused saying they would arrest him, and that wasn’t going to happen. Instead, he checked my neck himself and told me I’d be just fine. Max was only a couple of weeks old.

• We were having an argument just a few days after leaving the hospital with Max. Once again, I just wanted to get the hell away from him. Steve was pissed off because I had fallen asleep for thirty minutes after being awake for forty-eight hours, cleaning up his mess and looking after our baby. I should have been relaxing, as ordered by the doctor, as I had stitches from a caesarian. Rather than let me go, whilst holding our son, he slapped me so hard around the face, I lost my balance and landed on Max. The only saving Grace is that I landed on the bed. However, there were two major concerns for me at this moment in time. First and foremost, Max was a tiny, fragile baby. He only weighed 5lbs 11oz by the time we were released from hospital. “God please, don’t let my son be broken…“. I was frantic. Secondly, it felt like my stitches had burst. The sharp pain that shot through my body from the tugging of them felt like, what I can only describe as a number of red hot pokers being rammed into my body. I thought my insides would now be on the outside. In excruciating pain, I checked Max. He seemed OK. An appointment was already booked to see a paediatrician. (Turns out my little bundle of joy was just fine). As for me, my stitches were still in tact, but only because of the thick tape which had been used to keep the bandage on in the first place. I needed extra pain killers to help numb the pain as much as possible.

Looking back on it all, I truly hope that the many men and women suffering like this have the strength to leave. I’m certain I would have been dead by now. If he could kill my kittens, he’s more than capable of killing a human being. That’s the next stage, right?

Famous Animal Abusers, from left to right: Ted Bundy, Jeffery Dahmer, David Berkowitz and Michael Vick.

“The Link Between Animal Cruelty And Human Violence Is Indisputable.“

(*Not his real name)