I asked my mum why she stayed in abusive relationship once. She told me he'd promised to hunt her down and kill her and her children if she left. If he couldn't find her, he'd kill her younger brother and her father instead. She believed him.
I stayed because the thought of leaving and all the unknowns it held was scarier than the reality of staying.
Yes he was a twat. Yes he bullied the children, he bullied me. He was financially controlling, lazy and perverted.
He also provided well for us financially. Gave us a roof over our heads, took us on holiday and made sure the children wanted for nothing. He told me that was happiness. He spent 10 years telling me having your own home and holidays abroad each year and fancy christmas gifts was happiness. He spent 10 years showing me evidence that this was happiness and 10 years telling me how UNhappy I would be without him.
He also spent 10 years telling me I was nothing without him. That I couldn't manage money. That I couldn't control the children. That I didn't understand the simple rules of being an adult properly. He spent 10 years pointing out all of the mistakes I'd made, over and over, with the mistakes becoming more and more exaggerated with each retelling, subtly changing each time, until I didn't even know which version was true.
10 years of someone telling you and showing you that you cannot exist without their support has a powerful effect upon your self esteem and belief in yourself.
Of course it didn't start out like that. Abusers are often wonderful in the start. It is how they draw you in. Had my ex told me when I met him that he wanted full control over my finances, social life and job I'd have laughed in his face and walked away. Had he called me even half of the names that he was using to describe me by the end I'd quite likely have been arrested. He didn't do any of those things though. What he did do was far cleverer than that. He "helped" me.
He'd clean the house when I was out, he cared for dd1. He made a fuss of pets buying them and us gifts and showered us with compliments and affection. He was the perfect man, so obviously when he offered to help me budget, because he was so smart with money and I was so careless, I didn't see this for the groundwork that it was, the start of showing me how useless I was and how I'd never cope without him. I saw it as my boyfriend, best friend and biggest supporter trying to help me build some savings.
The financial abuse started that innocently. What started as an innocent budget plan, escalated slowly, ever so slowly over time to him looking after our joint income while we saved for X. Just for a week at first, then a few weeks. Then the joint income should be paid into an account in his name, but I'd still have the card, to help us, of course, save for a wonderful holiday, he had to look after because I was so careless with money, remember the time I lost £20? My last £20 because I'd wasted all of my wages and he'd graciously and heroically helped me out? No? Neither did I, but he did. Then he should keep hold of the card for a few months and give me an allowance. That way we'd have savings to fall back on, since I was so rubbish at saving. That allowance got smaller and smaller. The few months became longer and longer. The account slowly changed from being "our" account, to his. So slowly that I didn't even see what was happening until he already had full control over all of the family money.
The control over my eating and therefore weight started the same way. What seemed to be genuine concern about how little I ate and how thin I was turned to complete control over everything I ate. It didn't happen overnight, it happened over 10 years. The name calling was the same. Innocent "jokes" slowing escalated to out and out warfare on my self esteem. Criticisms of my parenting started as helping. Helping me with parenting my own child, with an underlying theme of me not being capable.
Yes MN offered invaluable advise and support, but MN did not have 10 years of slowly chipping away at my very sense of self behind it.
I'd didn't leave because over 10 years he'd managed to teach me that I could not cope without him. It would take more than words on a screen and supportive strangers to undo all of that cleverly laid groundwork.
The thought of leaving him and having to parent on my own, run my own finances and even plan my own diet, was terrifying, far worse than staying and coping with the bullying and nastiness. The bullying and nastiness was a known. I knew I could survive that. He'd taught me, over 10 years that I couldn't survive without it. That without him I was incapable of even the most basic life skills.