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Surviving a Toxic Relationship

Your journey to self improvement

By Abby AcevedoPublished 5 years ago 4 min read
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"Abby, if you leave, I will have no purpose to continue my miserable life..."

A volcano of tears was ready to erupt out of my head as these words echoed inside me. "Will I be responsible for the death of a man I once claimed to love?" I pondered. The constant threat of suicide loomed over my head; it was the primary reason I stayed and underwent months of mental abuse and manipulation.

The beginning of our relationship was a complete and utter disaster. His ex was a 47-year-old salary manager at a fast food restaurant that we both worked at. She always tried to sabotage the relationship as well as reveal the many skeletons he had in his closet. It was mutually assured destruction for both since they both put their whole lives on a microscope for all of us to analyze. Are you cringing as much as I am? So the real question here is what on God's green earth attracted me to this person? He was broken, and I wanted to fix him.

I was a giddy 17-year-old girl with a passion for history and writing and an abundant love of heavy metal music and make-up. I was ambitious with my health. I drank green tea religiously, worked out regularly, and watched what I ate periodically. I was in love with a guy who only reciprocated half the intense feelings I felt for him and bartered confusion.

He was a 22-year-old man with questionable intelligence but in the wrong path of life. He suffered from an addiction to heroin, he didn't have much support from his family, and the only person who claimed to care about him was utterly insane. He had alluring green eyes, gorgeously long copper-colored hair and a perfect height of 6'4''. He was charming yet intimidating. He knew what he wanted: Me.

Initially, he was a rebound, someone to medicate my heartache of the unrequited love of my high school crush. But it quickly turned into something more. Throughout the first month of us being together, he got involved in a fight with his cousin which resulted in him getting an aggravated assault charge and inevitably go to jail. I don't know how he prolonged the process of doing so, but he went into hiding, and only myself and a few other family members knew of his location. I urged him to turn himself in and to get it over with; he prolonged the process by five months, and on month four, he proposed to me.

Did I love him? Sure, but as soon as senior year began, I had to take the initiative to focus on myself, the summer romance needed to come to a stop. But on that fateful day that he invited me over, his mother exploded with joy and suspense. I waited silently in the living room, looking at my stark white converse, having that gut feeling of what was going to happen. He led me to his room; a bouquet of roses and a Chanel perfume (I'm pretty sure he stole) greeted me, my instincts were correct. Every hair in my body screamed at me to say no, but my mouth said yes. I promised him that I would wait for him to get out of jail and the second I turned eighteen I would abandon my family, and I would marry him.

By God's grace, I lost the ring two days after the engagement, and in doing so, I felt a sense of liberation.

Throughout the relationship, I began to lose myself. I stopped taking care of myself. "Who cares?" I thought, "He loves me just the way I am." This man convinced me that no one else would love me the way that he does, and he began to point out my insecurities and continued to imply that I was still so perfect to him. In reality, though, I gained a fuck ton of weight, a field of acne on my face, and deteriorating mental health by something I will speak on in a separate blog.

I took advantage of the fact that he was incarcerated, and I left and moved on to other people. He wrote me many letters (that have met their fate in the dumpster) as well as multiple phone calls in which he traded food for. I dreaded those calls; he would always cry and then end up cussing me out. When he got out of jail, things worsened. In total, he made 40 different numbers from numerous texting apps; he would call and text and threaten my family and me.

At the end of it all, I was left scarred and traumatized but still hoping to find love again. My advice: don't move on to someone else too fast. The key is moving on to yourself, love yourself again, and once you're at the best headspace you can ever be, continue to strive for more. When you are good with yourself, you will attract someone good.

To this day, he has not contacted me, and the last time he did, we were civil towards each other. He had told me he impregnated some girl, but she ended up losing the child due to a drug overdose; I don't know where he is or whether he is alive or not. Regardless of everything that has happened, I've forgiven him for myself. When you hold a grudge, it does more damage to yourself than to the person who hurt you; the best revenge is self-improvement. You cannot control external events, but you can control your attitude towards it, your mind, and your perception. Don't let your emotions be the puppet master of your actions, be in control, and you will see results.

Lastly, as cliche as it is to say, it's the truth: time heals all wounds. So give yourself time. Baby steps. Life is hard, yes, but it's not impossible!

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About the Creator

Abby Acevedo

Welcome to my page! I enjoy writing with the hopes of helping people by sharing my experiences.

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