What It Means To Get Out

I was the victim of an abusive relationship for two and a half years. There were good times. There were bad times. In the end, it wasn't until I looked back that I saw just how bad the bad times were. I have always had self esteem issues. I have discerned my own value based on how I believed others viewed me. The problem is, when you think everyone only sees the worst in you, you end up only seeing the worst in yourself. What does that have do to with surviving an abusive relationship? I'm getting there. You can only see where you are when you see where you've been and how you got there and now... here. So I saw my worst and was blind to my best. I was desperate to be loved and accepted because I thought I was so worthless. I went from person to person searching for that love. My relationships were shallow and degrading. I accepted being the side girl when I wanted to be the main girl. I accepted being controlled and manipulated because I believed it was better than being alone. Over time, I accepted worse and worse treatment until finally, I hit rock bottom.

The View From the Bottom

The view from the bottom is a lot like the view from the top if you've never seen the top and have no clue what's out there. When I hit rock bottom I thought I was loved. I believed everything he said and made excuses for him. It started small, "I don't want you talking to your exes because I don't trust them." Then it was, "I don't like you talking to your friends because they don't like me very much." Eventually, "I don't want you to email your mother without me around because I want to know what's going on in your life. You are important to me." He limited my emails to my mother to twice a week unless it was an emergency and all emails had to meet his approval. This was the first step. Cutting me off from my support system. I already was living thousands of miles from my home, and now, all communication was cut off and I made the excuse in my mind that he loved me and wanted to be involved. From there, things continued to decline. My autonomy was stripped from me and even the smallest decisions ceased to be my own. What I ate, what I wore, where I went and what I did, everything became his. Even my opinions ceased to be relevant and therefore I stopped voicing them, or even forming them within my own mind. The relationship eventually turned violent when despite my best attempts at submission, I failed to submit willingly enough to his requirements. I was a captive in my own home and everything that had identified me as an individual was stripped from me and replaced with what he desired.

It's Nice Down Here

Still, despite the inequity of our relationship I didn't want to be apart, I had no desire to be free of him and his demands. The time when I spent away from him would throw me into a panic. When I would visit my parents house twice a year, I would talk to him 24/7 the whole time I was gone. He would have me send him pictures when I was at the store or at family gatherings to prove that is where I really was and I would do so willingly because refusing would mean losing him. I didn't recognize how abusive the relationship had become. I made excuses for him and hid his abusive behavior from my family. Hiding it from my friends wasn't necessary, I didn't have friends anymore, I lost all of them when we got together. In the end, he replaced me with someone else. I fought long and hard to keep our relationship going despite the horrendousness of the situation. I couldn't imagine losing him or living my life without him and I was willing to do whatever I could to hold on to that way of life because it was safe.

The Best Worst Thing

He abandoned me. Left me without looking back. Threw me out like the garbage that he obviously felt that I was. The garbage I allowed myself to become. I believe I should have grieved. We were engaged. I should have at least grieved for the life I had planned with who I believed he was. Instead I grew angry and did what I could to prove him wrong. I wasn't useless or garbage or unworthy. I was going to prove myself. Not to get him back but to make him regret his decision. He had stripped from me everything identifiable. He had stripped my goals, my aspirations, my personality, and my morals — in essence, he ripped my soul from me without hesitation or regret. Now I was left without guidance and without anything to lose. I was left to rebuild myself from the ground up, to form myself from the ashes, like a phoenix. The opportunities before me were endless because I was a blank slate. The work before me was endless too because I did not know myself or what my own mind was. I had to discover myself anew.

So... what does it mean to survive?

So what does it mean to survive? Is it a good thing? Does it mean that now I am more myself than I was before. Perhaps. It also means that every once in a while I smell him and my stomach drops. It means that I don't always understand the way my mind works. It means I don't trust myself and therefore, will always keep a bit of myself from trusting anyone else because if I can hurt myself that way (by being an enabler to myself) then how I can expect that someone else, who has no reason not to, won't? It means therapy and days where I can't figure out what is wrong I just know that something is "off." It means missing him. It means feeling the bruises that have long since faded. It means blaming myself. It means doubting that it ever happened. It means wondering if I am just over-reacting. It means being a stranger in my own skin. Yes, I am stronger now. Yes, I have survived. I am free and I am alive and I am so incredibly thankful that I am both of those things. Still, am I really free? If he is ever-present in my mind and I live with the emotional scars, will I ever be truly free? Is it ever possible to be free from abuse even if you survive it? I struggle every day to be free from it but the damage seems to linger. Still, I fight because fighting is better than failing. Fighting is better than giving up. Fighting is how you learn who you are. I guess that is what it really means to survive, it means you are a fighter and the fight continues. It means you aren't giving up. It means you are incredible.