All this talk of domestic violence and abuse has me reflecting upon my experiences over the past few years. If you read my last blog post, you'll know that I intended to start a blog series on overcoming negative cycles in life. As usual, I did not follow through with my blog series plan because I got distracted by work and socializing and a new boyfriend and all of those sorts of things. However, the topic of abuse hits home with me, because that was my negative cycle. I spent about four or five years in various relationships which were mostly psychologically and emotionally abusive (luckily, I never experienced full on physical abuse, although it came pretty close a couple of times). The tweets about #WhyIStayed are incredibly important and I relate to so many of them. They are what has inspired me to write this blog.
My plan for this blog post is to put you in the mindset of the abuse victim and to see exactly the kind of muddled up reality we are/were forced to live in. A lot of this is going to be things that I haven't told very many people.
During college, I dated a series of guys who, whether they knew it or not, did not treat me the way I deserved to be treated. I don't want to single any one of them out, so I will go through general topics as opposed to specific relationships.
I often felt inadequate. I would be told to be a certain way, try my hardest to become what he wanted, and still not be good enough. All I wanted was to be loved and supported by someone but I would be told to be more like someone else.
I was forced to do things I didn't want to do. I won't go into gory details. But this was not pleasant. And no one deserves this.
I was isolated. Jealousy prevented me from being able to form strong friendships in college. One guy wouldn't even let me hang out with my female friends and I spent most of a semester cooped up in his dingy apartment, unable to even sleep in my own dorm room. Wedges were driven between my family and me. During one relationship, I lost the ability to communicate completely. I pretended my relationship was perfect because I didn't know how to tell people that I was miserable. I withdrew from school for a semester and thought about never going back (which actually proved beneficial in the end, after the devastating breakup). I was taught to believe that everyone outside the small circle we had formed was not to be trusted, that they wouldn't understand me, and that they would judge me and hate me for my lifestyle and beliefs. And that's how I lived for a while. Cooped up in another apartment, afraid to venture out.
I felt trapped. This is probably the main reason women stay. They feel there is no way out. There was one boyfriend with whom a break up would never stick. I can't remember the details (probably because my brain doesn't want to), but I couldn't make the breakup last. Something would always happen and I would feel guilty so I would stay. It finally got to the point to where I thought I had to do something that would make him so mad he would never forgive me.
I felt confused. My words would get twisted around. Any time there was conflict, the blame always seemed to land on me. I needed to fix things. I was the abuser. He never said that. I'm remembering incorrectly. I'm the one with the jealousy issues. He's sacrificed plenty for this relationship; I need to sacrifice more. I need to speak up and let him know what my needs are, but not that way! No. I did it wrong. I do everything wrong. I can't come to him with that. I couldn't go to my own boyfriend for emotional support. Even when I did what I thought he wanted it was wrong. Everything was my fault.
I was afraid. I was afraid of so many things. I was afraid of being left behind. One boyfriend made me feel guilty for still being in college and I felt pressured to finish as fast as I could because I was afraid of being left behind. Another boyfriend actually threw things when I tried to break up with him and I had to have two of my guy friends escort me back to my dorm where I had a panic attack in the shower. Worst of all, I was afraid of what would happen post-break up. I don't think any person should ever have to be afraid of life post-break up. I think that is the loneliest, scariest place I have ever been. This goes hand in hand with the isolation. I thought I would have no one. Nothing. I thought breaking up would leave me with no friends, no family, no one to support me or understand me.
This is what emotional abuse looks like. And I'm reluctant to post this because it is so personal. And I know the guys I'm talking about aren't inherently evil people.
But maybe I should qualify it. It is what it is. This is what happened. Obviously, I'm still experiencing reverberations. I find myself in this moment thinking, "What if it was my fault? What if I am the problem?" I'm all for recognizing that I am human too and I know I do some awful things sometimes. I hope I've taken responsibility for everywhere that I actually did wrong. But where am I taking too much responsibility?
