You Can’t Hurt Me Anymore

The first time he hit me, I was certain it wouldn’t happen again. If I just kept my mouth shut, not challenge or stand up to him, and be obedient, and let him drink himself to a stupor, he wouldn’t put his hands on me again.

I married my abuser and it was the worst years of my life. I was always accused of cheating, nothing I did was ever good enough, and everything I said was held against me. His drinking got so much worse after we got married. And so did the physical abuse.

My father was an alcoholic, and did unthinkable things. But, he recovered, got sober, and our relationship exponentially improved over the course of my adult life. It gave me hope that if my father could overcome this awful addiction, certainly so could my husband. I didn’t know how wrong I was… When he was sober, I was his obsession, but not in a loving way. When he was drinking, the name calling hurt almost as much as the punching and hair pulling. He literally drug my face across the floor calling me “dirt”.

I can’t say I wish I never met him because I wouldn’t have my boys, but I do wish that after my childhood trauma, that I had taken the time to heal properly.

To all women who have been in an abusive relationship; to all women who are domestic violence survivors; to all women who can’t seem to shake the abuser and the trauma bond that you feel; I have been there. I understand completely. I had my very own Jekyll and Hyde. He was an abusive alcoholic who didn’t appreciate anything I had to offer, and showed me on a daily basis that I was a piece of property with no value or worth, and that nothing I did or said was ever good enough. I see you.

I was traumatized, abused, neglected, and abandoned from childhood into early adulthood. I felt as though this was all that I deserved. When I met my abuser, he was kind, attentive, caring, and loving at the right time and I fell hard for his ill-conceived charm. The abuse escalated quickly and every time I threatened to leave, call the police, or literally tell anyone, he’d swear things would be different. Only they got worse every time. The night he put his hands around my neck, I was in far too deep. Seeking help from local resources, I fled but he would not just let me go. The stalking lasted for several years, the emotional and verbal abuse continues to this day. However, through my own healing journey, he can’t hurt me anymore. In any aspect.

I wrote a book about my time in this abusive marriage. I encourage you to purchase a copy and find some hope that there is life after domestic violence and you can find true love-love that doesn’t hurt, and that you can feel worthy, valuable, LOVED, and that you are enough just as you are after being made to feel the complete opposite. Break the Silence. “You Can’t Hurt Me Anymore” by C.A. Russell