For those that have escaped from abuse, what was your tipping point?

[TheDevilWearsPrimark]

Another thread got me thinking about this. And for me it wasn't any of the times he beat me and was arrested, nor the times friends drove over to 'rescue' me.

It took a very long time and my final realisation was when he came home from work hammered at 11pm, with fish and chips for himself, knowing I had been stuck in all day hungry and without any money. He wolfed it down and kept nodding to an empty glass on the table, I realised he meant I should go get him water and almost did as I normally would. But then stopped myself. That was it.

My dad was ill in hospital 150 miles away, H was away working (bliss). Rather than get him to come home and help with DC, I took them out of school so I could get to the hospital. Dad died that same day and I paid to use a toll road on my way home (traffic was heavy and my patience with it wasn't all it could have been).

When I got home, the first thing he did was complain about the couple of quid (of my money) I'd "wasted" and the extra miles I'd put on my journey. This was the tipping point. Not the 15 years of misery & EA and walking on eggshells to try to please him (which I never managed), but the wankiness over a measly couple of quid so I could avoid a traffic jam on the day my dad had died!

thelightsare on - yes the 'wankiness' of the behaviour says it all. To think the Hours and hours and hours I spent dealing with utter wankiness behaviour from my H. There could be a serious problem elsewhere and he would be angry concerned with my ability to use the washing machine/ stack the washing up in the sink properly/ the correct placement of towels/ my 'incorrect' use of the english language/ 'state' of my car/my parenting skills/ my mothers inability to have bought me up correctly/ I could go on and on and.......

when i returned home from my first night out after having DS (who was then a toddler) to find the house half smashed up. XP shrugged and said he thought a cat and gotten in through a window.
i then got a bit of a beating for having phoned a friend and talked about a man i'd met. all i'd done was phone her to say i was home safe.
he then pestered me relentlessly for sex. i pretended to be asleep and made it difficult for him to try and have me anyway, as he often had. when he gave up and went to sleep i stayed awake for hours, so fucking scared.
first thing i said when i woke up was that we were over and he had to make alternative living arrangements.

Mine was when I realised that it had been a whole year since the violence and SA started. I had already reported 2 incidents to the police but not had the courage to press charges. One of the beatings was for accusing of seeing another woman (which he was) but he still wouldn't leave. As usual, the next attack happened a couple of days later and he left to go back to her house.

I called the police and he was dragged out of her bed a few hours later.

His sister rang me a few days later to say that 'you didn't have to involve the Police'. WTF else should I have done then?
He was a foot taller than me (and apparently smoking crack I've since found out).

He's improved a lot over the years but you never forget, do you?
Still in limited contact as he is DD's father but no longer afraid of him. Took best part of 10 years to reach that point and get an apology though

Mine was this. I was lying on the floor after he had just broken my arm (really badly as it turned out, it needed a bone graft, a metal plate and 7 screws), but that wasnt the actual moment. It was when he walked back in the room a couple of minutes later, rolled me over (I couldnt get up) and took the money out of the back pocket of my jeans.

There are a lot of us aren't there? :(

I had put up with 6 years of every type of abuse from exh1. I then started a new job where I met an old male school friend. We sat talking one lunch time and I found myself telling him everything. He said that no one should stay with someone that treated them like that (or words to that effect). Within a few days I'd told h that I wanted a 'trial separation' just to get him out of the house and away from me. He came back a week later and I told him it was over. He beat me badly before he went. I had blood clots in my arms and he managed to bend the pin that holds the watch strap on; no mean feat that. I had hand print bruises all over and I had to have anti clotting medication.

In those days the police wouldn't get involved in domestic abuse, so I felt totally alone. I do recall someone telling me about a womens refuge though, but I can't remember who. I wouldn't go because I couldn't take my dogs with me and my lovely Sal had saved my life so many times, I couldn't do it.

Exh1 is dead now. He killed himself amost a year ago and I can honestly say that after nearly 20 years of having him in in back of my mind, worrying that I might bump into him etc, this past year has been worse. I don't think I'll ever be rid of him.

shit

< gulps >

I think I've just reached my tipping point. It's a combination of him being too forceful with DD2 and him pushing elbowing me in the face, but the thing that has turned those too evensts in to the tipping point, is getting them out in to the open. talking on here, and also talking to a relationship counsellor about them.
I feel like I've opened a box, and in some ways I want to close it again for a bit longer.
This is a brilliant thread.

I didn't leave exp, he left me, and I'd have had him back for a good three years after, but I realise now what a shit he was.
The night my Mum died (I was 8 months pg) he went to bed and left me crying on the couch because he was tired, he threatened not to come to the funeral because of some imagined thing I hadn't done.
He would come to see me at work if I begged (I had a live in job), and then would be mean and flirt with the other staff, and purposely forget the things I'd asked him to bring (no shops where I was)
He left when DD was 6 weeks old, but would come back for sex, once, afterwards he picked up DD and said in her face, 'you're fucking ugly, just like your mother', and another time he threw a plate at my head whilst I was holding her, missed and smashed the window.
I'd let him in on Christmas Eve (DD 4 months at this point) after he promised he'd spend Christmas, and just after the sex, got up and said he was off to his new gf's for Christmas and New Year.

I haven't seen or spoken to him in 6 years, and never wish to again.

AF, I know what you mean.
You were mine, by the way. You and the rest of MN. You said 'Just leave him, love' and I never quite forgot that. Whenever he did something shit (often) I'd hear your voice in my head and it blended in the end with my instincts which were screaming at me to go.

So glad I did :)

high fives everyone in this thread for being strong and awesome

< hugs CV right back >

When someone said I could and they would help me, albeit reluctantly - just knowing they would rather I was out of the relationship even though it meant they would have to help me out.

I always felt too ashamed to burden them before that day. Once I had permission I never looked back.

When I knew I would kill him if I stayed.

When he threw me over the bannister and I came to , to 3 years old DS screaming leave my Mummy alone.

I walked out with a broken nose and jaw that time, but it was the last time.

Mine was when he tried to hug me, with tears in his eyes whilst saying that he was only joking. Again... it was becoming almost daily.

Oh and I discovered MN, read Lundi Bancroft and was amazed that he knew everything going on in my house without ever having been there!

I left a year ago, can honestly say I have loved everyday of not being there. Sadly, still have contact as we have 4 DCs and I still feel very sorry for him and his terrible childhood. Someway to go I think.

It was the syringes hidden in the airing cupboard

the day he tied an axe to the living room door so it would chop me when I opened it,
The night when he beat the soles of my feet with a bamboo cane

The punch which separated the muscles in my stomach...

He is dead now but the fear still comes back to haunt me.

"read Lundi Bancroft and was amazed that he knew everything going on in my house without ever having been there!"

Tolstoy was very wrong when he claimed that happy families are all alike but unhappy ones are unhappy in their own way, at least when the unhappiness is due to abuse. Most abusers are such textbook cases, aren't they? Most people here can take a "how to spot an abuser" list and tick most of the boxes, starting with -

temper and moods? tick.
always your fault? tick.
killing self-confidence? tick.
cutting off your support? tick.
and so on.

It's like they are reading the books themselves and learning how to be a proper abuser..

When my exH was out one night, I found a love/lust/sex email chat between him and another woman on our computer. Texted him and confronted him - which he denied.

18 hours later (ie the next day late evening), he got home totally smashed. Raged, threatened to kill himself, weeping accusing - he went into the bathroom with a 10 inch knife. I called an ambulance, they told me not to disturb him and to make sure the kids were safe. I found myself standing in the hallway with two sleeping children in the buggy wondering what the hell had happened to my life.

He came out of the bathroom, put the knife away and told me to cancel the ambulance, which I did. We all went to bed - the next day I told him we were finished.

This really is an amazing thread, thanks for sharing, though it's quite shocking how many of us there are and of course this barely scratches the surface

marriednotdead, I will never forget exMil getting hysterically upset and screaming at me that I could have ruined her sons career by involving the police when he threw me down the stairs. Nice family

Okeydokeyspud, how are things going?

All power and credit to you women who walked out and left these fuckwits to stew in their own pathetic juice. You did the right thing.
High five again for your strength.