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Beautiful, but Broken

Surviving domestic abuse and living to tell about it.

By Anonymous SurvivorPublished 6 years ago 4 min read
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With each strike, across the face. With each vicious insult hurled her way, in a drunken rage, a small piece of her heart broke away. She was 15 years old and in love with the idea of love. He was 31 years old, and old enough to know better. However, because any grown woman could see through his outwardly charm, he instead chose to prey on an innocent, naive child. That child was me.

When you are in a situation, where you love somebody so much that you turn a blind eye toward the horrific and awful things they do to you, you need help. I was that girl. I was afraid to do anything, or say anything for fear of enticing him into a rage. The rage he sometimes showed is something I will never forget. I will never forget the hollow, soulless look in his eyes as he struck me. I will never forget the fear I felt that snowstorm, as I ran through the woods in only my bra and panties, being chased by an enraged drunk, with a butcher knife in his hand. I will never forget the fear I felt as that same butcher knife stuck into the door an inch from my head as I tried to walk away from him on another night.

Even now, eight years later, when I close my eyes, I can see his face. I can see his face snarling up as he told me how fat, lazy, and worthless I was. I heard those same words everyday for three years, and eventually I began to believe him. I truly believed the things he would say. I believed that I was fat and ugly. I believe that I was worthless and nobody else would ever love me. Eventually I also believed that I would never get out of this relationship alive.

I can remember the smug look on his face as he told me he would kill my entire family if I ever left. I believed he would make true on this promise, so I believed I was in this relationship, until I died, most likely at his hands. He got more and more angry as time went on, and started taking it out on other people as well, which is how I was finally able to break free of him. In a blind, drunken rage, he threatened, and attempted to burn a neighbor alive. He threw gas on him, with every intention of igniting it, but his lighter would not light. That night, this saved my life. The police were called and he was finally arrested. This night started the chain of events that would lead me to find out a lot of things.

After he was arrested, I then found out about his lengthy criminal record, his reason for fleeing his home province, and I also found out that I was pregnant with his child. I knew that this was finally my opportunity to escape his abusive hands. He supposedly worked on himself while in jail, and I stupidly allowed him to come live with myself and my parents when he got out, shortly before my baby was born. At first he was great, although he contributed nothing. He was a "Dad" when it was convenient for him, and the rest of the time I was left to do everything, with the generous help of my Mom. Sure enough, the emotional abuse started again, but I was not going to get dragged so deep I couldn't get out this time. I informed him our relationship was over and he needed to leave.

The threats on my life, and the lives of my family, unsurprisingly began again and I was just as terrified as before, but I knew it was now or never to get out of this situation. For the first year, I would constantly receive threatening messages on Facebook. Although he had no interest in seeing his son, he did want to see me hurting. He thrived on me being scared of him, and I'm sad to say it's successful. I was scared, and I am still scared. This all took place 6 years ago. He stopped contacting me after a year or two and I haven't heard from him since. He does not know my location, or how to reach me. However, I feel like these aftereffects are going to last forever.

For the past 6 years, I have lived in fear, unable to even go shopping alone. I used to believe that anxiety was made up, and people who had said these things were looking for sympathy. However now, I truly apologize for ever thinking such a thing. Anxiety is a very real thing, and something that is debilitating for some. The anxiety that this fear has caused me is life changing. After seeking medical attention for this anxiety and my lack of sleep, I was diagnosed with PTSD! There are still days, six years later, where I feel like he is standing around the next corner, or watching me from across the street. There are still days, six years later, where when I close my eyes, he is all I can see. There are still days, six years later, where I feel worthless. But there are also days, six years later, where I feel beautiful.

I got out. I survived. I got an amazing little boy from this situation. I know that I will never be the same person I was before. I know that I will carry this with me the rest of my life. The bruises fade, but these scars will be in my heart forever. Despite all the trauma of this, I gained two amazing things. I gained my son, and I also gained an unshakable, unbreakable strength. If I hadn't fought through this, I would not have my son, nor would I be the person I am today. The person I am today, is beautiful, but broken.

relationships
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About the Creator

Anonymous Survivor

Hi there!! I am a 25 year old mother of one! I am a survivor of domestic abuse and a strong advocate for women that are in these situations! I hope that by sharing my story and my knowledge of domestic violence I can help other young girls!

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