How I Survived (Part 4)

Saying it was hard to leave, is an understatement. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do in my life. Sometimes God puts you in certain positions where you’re forced to move forward, because you’ve been stuck in the same spot for far too long. The worst day of your life could be a blessing in disguise. Always have faith, because you can get through anything.

With every day that went by, my misery only grew. My sad soul was occupying a tired body, and a broken heart. The day I got married I knew my soul had died, but after having my baby boy, I felt alive again.

My boy was the only reason I felt alive. I knew I had to be there for him. I had to take the responsibility of bringing him into this world, even at such a young age. Med left me home alone with my boy all day, and would only come to eat or sleep. I was nothing but a maid and a cook to this man, and at first it hurt, but then I started to accept that would be how the rest of my life was.

The night that I gave birth to my baby, and had asked Med for food and for support, he lied to avoid being present. I knew Med didn’t deserve a family, but what I didn’t know is why my innocent child and I deserved him? I dealt with a lot on my own for months after he left. I had no money at all, and he didn’t care to ask if we needed anything. I tried asking for help, but he said he wasn’t able to support us.

I stayed with my mother, and my family pitched in to help buy my son everything he needed. I never asked, but I didn’t need to. My mother, and my sister were there during that tough time.

I dealt with a lot of postpartum depression and anxiety. I wasn’t the same person I once was, and it broke me. I tried so hard to be okay for the baby I had sleeping innocently on my chest, but I couldn’t take it anymore.

How could he do this to me? How could he be so evil, and so selfish? I knew how bad of a person this man was, but I was only 18 and I felt like such a burden. I couldn’t have my family take care of us forever, so I moved back in with Med.

Months of silence went by. It was a dark time, but my boy was my light. My baby boy needing me is what kept me going. I knew it was my job to raise this boy right, and make sure he doesn’t turn out anything like Med.

My boy was 7 months old, and like any other day after drinking his warm milk, he fell asleep. His sleeping pattern was still wonky, so he was sleeping at a different time each night. I would sleep and wake up whenever he would, because it was just my baby and I with no one there to help. I had just started to doze off when I felt a pain in my back. It was Med.

I won’t go into detail about the events that happened that day, or night. I didn’t even know how many hours went by, or if it was a whole day. Med had accused me of cheating again, and then he took away my phone leaving me alone and helpless. I couldn’t call for help, or lock myself in the bathroom because my little boy was sleeping so soundly. I tried not to scream or cause a scene, but I could see the rage in his eyes. He wanted to hurt me and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

Whenever I would try to speak I would forcefully get silenced. Whenever I would try to push him away, he would get angrier. Whenever I fought back, it would get worse. All I could think about was my baby boy, and how I couldn’t lose him. He was all I had, and the only person I ever truly fell in love with. He was my heart and soul.

Med grabbed me by my hair, right in front of a mirror. I had long, thick black hair, and it was gorgeous. I loved it so much, and felt beautiful letting it flow down my back. He knew how much I loved it, and would get jealous whenever anyone would compliment me. He had me stand infront of the mirror and watch in horror as he chopped my hair off, while laughing. I was mortified, and in pain.

As he walked away, I stood there and just looked at myself. What have I become? Who is this woman in the mirror? I brought my hand up to touch my face, and flinched at my own touch. I was traumatized. He tortured me for hours and hours, with the finishing touch of leaving me with no hair.

Bruises all over my face and body. Swollen bloody lips. Aches and pains. Fear. Trauma.

I had the option of leaving, but I couldn’t leave my baby. In Lebanon, custody of the child goes to the father. I knew I had to leave, but not on my own. I had to take my baby with me no matter what the cost. If I had left, I would’ve lost my son forever, but I didn’t. Why? Because, I’m a mother.

Thank you so much for reading. Stay tuned for Part 5.

Advice: I beg you to reach out for help. Anything is better than returning to an abusive relationship. You are not a burden. You are loved. Call the police if you have to. Reach out to anyone, PLEASE! Your child will understand.