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Finding Courage

When is it enough?

By Cassy :)Published 6 years ago 11 min read
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It blinds you. That feeling of being desired, the feeling of being enough, the lust. The feeling of love rushing through your veins, your mind constantly occupied by the one person who claims all the love in the world for you. But when does the love stop? Where do we draw the line and decide enough is enough. There is no love left. The hardest decision we can make is to stop loving someone who means the entire world to us. Anybody can tell you they love you, anyone can call you beautiful, anyone can make you feel so damn good. But not everyone can mean it. We refuse to see the signs and we most certainly refuse to see the end of something we just don't want to end.

I was 18 years old when I met a boy. His name was Tyler. Tyler and I had become casual friends. Didn't hang out, but talked every now and then and had some really good conversations. One day, we clicked. We had these undeniable sparks, this sudden connection. From then on, we talked for hours on end every day and loved every second of it. We had a "flirtationship" for about a month. I had butterflies every time we spoke. I was in love with him, but I wouldn't admit it to myself or him. A few days after my 19th birthday had passed, we were having one of our usual conversations and out of nowhere, effortlessly, he asked me to be his girlfriend and me being stupidly yet unknowingly in love with him, I said yes without a second thought or question. From then on, it felt like us against the world and nothing could go wrong, but was I ever wrong.

Our relationship the first two months was wonderful. Not a fight, not a single disagreement, nothing but smiles, good times, and happiness until one night he dropped a bomb on me. We were Facetiming each other in the evening like we do every day, and he informed me his ex-girlfriend had been contacting him looking for answers. I wasn't threatened but was surely curious as to what answers and why. He informed me about how they'd recently broken up, and that's when everything stopped. I asked, "What is recently?" and he informed me that they had broken up two weeks prior to our immediate conversation. I couldn't think straight, but managed to do the math of we'd been dating eight weeks and up until two weeks before then, they were also dating. In that time I broke down. my trust was gone, my mind was everywhere, I couldn't speak, and all he could do was cry and beg me to stay. I stormed out of my dorm room and outside to the sidewalk where I just cried. At the end of the night, I stayed. He convinced me to stay, and I had no idea that's where the manipulation began.

The minute I stayed was the minute he realized I was putty in his slimy, manipulative hands. From then on our relationship seemed perfect. He wasn't talking to his ex-girlfriend anymore and it wasn't a concern of either of us anymore. We had our minor disagreements every now and then like every other couple, until he started changing. Tyler loved going out with his friends, as did I. We mutually agreed that time on our own with our friends was an important part in maintaining other relationships and to keep our relationship strong by spending some time apart. However, Tyler refused to tell his friends about me, although knowing and liking my friends. Eventually, after an argument he told them and they all seemed shocked by finding out about me, which concerned me but I didn't think anything of it. We started hanging out within each other's friend groups as well as spending our time separately and things honestly seemed better than ever.

We started fighting more and more, mainly about communication. By this time we were five months in and Tyler slipped on communicating with me. I, suffering from (undiagnosed at the time) anxiety disorders tended to panic and worry about why he wasn't communicating anymore, but he reassured me everything was OK. Every time I had gotten hurt by one of Tyler's actions, he would get angry at me. He would tell me it's my fault for being upset, he would tell me he did nothing wrong. For some reason, I allowed him to tell me these things and I actually believed that I was the problem. Five months in and it's spring time. I had just left home and dropped out from pursuing my Bachelor's degree in teaching. I was halfway through. My mental health was deteriorating and we both thought it would benefit our relationship by not being as busy, but boy were we wrong.

Halfway through our fifth month, things got bad. We were fighting every day, and he was getting more aggressive. Tyler would scream in my face until I was on the floor or in a corner, he would grab my arm or my wrist leaving bruises from his tight squeeze. He was ripping me apart and I stayed. I loved him. Every day he would tell me how hopeless I was, how worthless I am. He would constantly call me annoying and tell me how sick of me he was, but at the end of the night, he held me until I fell asleep and for some reason, that was enough for me to stay. We met this girl, her name was Tay. She was very nice and we both quickly became friends. All three of us plus one of Tyler's friends had merged into our own little friendship group. Although the fights going on behind closed doors, we were everyone's favourite couple. We seemed so happy and so perfect to everyone.

Six months in, I tried seeking help. Secretly, through our new found friend, Tay, I confided in her in what went on behind closed doors. She told me he loved me and she was sure it wasn't as serious as I was making it out to be. Although lightly arguing it, she convinced me it was pure love. Nothing was wrong. The screaming got more intense, the fights got more pointless, the sleeping in the same bed stuck, but space between us got further. At this point, I was numb. I had no fight left in me, I felt like I deserved everything he put me through. I cried every night. I was scared for my life every night. No one saw the signs. My parents missed them, my friends missed them but most importantly, I missed them. He started getting sneaky. Staying out later, not coming home, but I thought nothing of it. I refrained sharing my concern to avoid another screaming match with him. My friendship with Tay drifted, and she and Tyler became closer. Seeing as a majority of Tyler's friends were already female, I felt no need to be threatened or worried by her, especially having known her myself. We reached our seventh month and nothing had changed. It never occurred to me to leave him, and I don't know why. I had everything to offer and still loved him when he brought nothing to the table. Not only was my love was unconditional, but it was a mistake.

Our seventh month, he started staying out all night. Some nights he didn't come home to bed. He stopped having sex with me, everything stopped except the screaming and the fights. His words more aggressive, his voice louder. I didn't even know he could possibly scream any louder at me. One morning I woke up and he seemed upset and off. I asked him what was wrong and he proceeded to tell me we needed to talk. I was terrified. My heart sank, I couldn't feel a thing, I fell silent. Those four words no woman wants to ever hear left his mouth. "I cheated on you." My first question was "who?" Tay. It was Tay. In that moment I had never felt so much betrayal. I had felt hurt. At the end of it, all I said was: "Block her. Everywhere. Nothing is changed except she is no longer in our lives." I couldn't leave. He treated me so carelessly and for some reason, I couldn't see myself without him. He lied to me. He didn't block her. He told me he just couldn't do it as she was his best friend and I allowed it. He cheated on me with her and I enabled it. I couldn't lose him, so I gave in. At this point, he knew I didn't have the strength or the courage to leave and yet for some reason, he didn't leave either. He took advantage of everything I was and he continued seeing her.

Our relationship continued a month after. He had still been seeing her. I knew he was cheating on me. It killed me. But losing him would have killed me more than anything. One night, I had this light come to me. I am not religious. I don't believe in anything, I don't pray, I don't go to church. But that night, I prayed. I prayed so hard and asked why. Why am I being put through this? What did I do to deserve this? And I cried and cried for hours, I had thoughts racing through my mind, my heart felt like it was gonna fall out of my chest until I came to this sense. I laid in my bed looking at the ceiling. I was numb, but the tears still fell from my eyes, down the sides of my face and stained my pillow. I sat up and I called Tyler, and of course he was with Tay. I told him it was time to pick. He was taken by surprise by the action I was taking, but he called my bluff. He lightly laughed and said, "Sweetheart, I can't pick. I'm not losing either of you." I raised my voice and said, "God damn it, Tyler, me or her. You have five minutes to pick, and if you don't I will pick for you. And it will not be me." I heard his breath get heavier, he nervously swallowed and stuttered. "I um-" "I can- you can't." I got frustrated and yelled "PICK." Tyler stayed silent as did I. After three minutes of sitting in silence I said, "We're done," and hung up. He didn't call back for me. He didn't text me. He didn't chase after me.

Minutes had gone by that he didn't come running after me and I started to panic. Although finding the courage I needed to leave him, a part of me wasn't ready and held hope he'd come running back to me. I franticly started calling and texting him to which he declined and ignored. I found myself panicking and hyperventilating screaming, "What did I just do? What have I done?" I was in shock. Everything started becoming real, the reality was setting in and not in the best way. At 19 years old, he was my very best accomplishment. He was everything in my life. At 19 years old my mental illness quickly took over my life. I was suicidal. I was suicidal to the point where I had thoughts, but I wouldn't act on them, until now. I informed him for every call he did not answer, I would take a pill. I just wanted to hear his voice. I wanted him back, I couldn't tell you why, but oh god I wanted him back. In the end he never answered. I emptied the bottle and cried myself to sleep.

Hours later I woke up in a hospital room. My brother asleep by my side and my mom reading in a chair by the window. I coughed and everyone looked up. No one said a word. My mom stood up, took a breath in, and before she could speak, I said, "Don't." She paused. She closed her mouth, and sat back down in her chair and just looked at me. I rolled my head to my left and looked down to see my brother. His eyes red and puffy from crying by my side all night, the look of sheer terror to see me sat up in a hospital room hours after trying to end my life. In the moment all I could think of was to apologize. I looked him in the eyes and whispered, "I'm sorry," and tears fell. He hugged me and told me how much he loved me. He told me he was so scared I wasn't gonna wake up. After several psych consults and talks with my parents, I was informed that I would be going to a rehab facility. As angry and upset that I was, I knew it was what needed to happen. My recovery was nothing short of long and painful, but a year and eight months later, I can say my recovery was successful. I can say I am OK.

I'm writing this story to raise awareness on abuse in relationships, whether it be physical or verbal. I need to let others know they are not alone. There is always help out there and there is always someone who will listen. You don't need to go through this. He is not worth it. You deserve the world.

relationships
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