So here goes. Sorry it is so long. It has taken a lot for me to write this down.
I have struggled with this for 5 years and I have berated myself for all that time, struggling to understand why. I think it is guilt.
I was with my ex partner for 8 years. Met when we were 16, moved in together at 21. He had a rocky childhood. Abusive dad, alcoholic stepdad. When we first met he had a hole through his wall and said he had done this himself after an argument with his mum’s bf. This wasn’t a red flag for me. I felt sorry for him and soon he became my absolute everything. My dad was often aggressive when I was younger, throwing things etc. He would sometimes hit me with a slipper if naughty (but I just saw this as old-school discipline) and slapped me round the face and called me a slapper when I first started staying over at said exes house (I was 17). Anyway lots of up and downs in those years, his mum practically left him homeless at one point and there I was ready to ‘save’ him. But I think I was dependent on him, not the other way round. During the last few years of our relationship I began to feel very down, sort of cut off from family and friends, not myself. I started crying myself to sleep and didn’t know what was happening. I would accuse him of not loving me, even though he would show me the complete opposite. I started arguments with him, would become hysterical so much so that I would have to leave the house and go for a drive or lock myself in the bathroom. I had a panic attack once. I threw things at him and would tell him he was ruining my life. I was horrible. During the last year I read an article about Frankie from the Saturdays suffering from depression (funny the details you remember), I showed him and said ‘this is me’. He didn’t say very much, I think he told me to go to the GP but probably didn’t know what to do. What he did though was retaliate in ways that made me so frightened. During arguments he would throw things at me too, kick doors off of hinges, he once pulled a knife out of the kitchen drawer and threaten to stab himself because I was driving him crazy. He grabbed me round the neck once.
But I honestly think if I wasn’t so horrible to him he would not have done this and like I say I have spent the last 5 years beating myself up about it. I brought that side out of him.
When I finally left I was utterly bereft, couldn’t believe I had done it and realised that I did love him, it was just my shit mental health making me think I didn’t. I did the usual begging, pleading, desperate things that I am utterly ashamed of now. He just said ‘you did the right thing’ and that he ‘used to get me, but didn’t anymore’. And well, my self worth has never recovered. I have started counselling and have spoke to a few professionals who are suggestive of PTSD.
But the most overriding emotion is guilt. I was an abusive horrible person.
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I think I was the abusive one
8 replies
Timeforchange30 · 20/07/2020 21:37
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