My story – Erica C

“It’s like you only like when I am angry.” He would say to me as he held my hair by the roots and screamed at me nose to nose.
The movies always show women getting punched in the face or slapped by a drunk man. That isn’t the truth. There are Ted Bundy types. He was suave. He was convincing. He was invincible to me. He would hold me down,  pin me to the wall, grab my hair, spit in my face, lock me in rooms and closets, kick down doors when I would hide, cover my mouth and nose and scream, “Stop breathing!!!”, he would choke me until I blacked out, make me pass out and then cry when I came to, punch walls, destroyed my property, he would shove my head into walls and car windows when I would cry, he would leave bruises that were easy to hide. He would cry afterwards and ask for forgiveness; tell me he didn’t mean to. He would blame me and say that it’s what I wanted.
He was enabled by our mutual “friends”. These people didn’t speak up for me, they witnessed the abuse and averted their eyes and allowed it. This further perpetuated the idea that this is “normal”, this instilled in me that maybe I did backtalk one too many times. Maybe I did roll my eyes and make him angry intentionally. He’s obviously not doing anything wrong if all these people are saying, “You have to deal with the repercussions.” I must be the one causing it since no one seems to want to stop it or help me.  
He convinced me that it was my fault that he cheated. He called me a whore, shamed me during sexual activities. Pressured me to please him while he never returned the favor. Refused to touch me. He negatively commented on my body. Convinced me that if I would please him more often and better then he wouldn’t need to look elsewhere.
He would tell me that it was my fault that I had no friends. He would tell me that everyone talked about me behind my back. He said that they thought that I was a bitch. Told me that I acted like I was “too good” for people. I wasn’t anything special. No one loved me. No one wanted me. I was pathetic. A poor excuse for a woman. I wasn’t worth marrying.
He would break up with me on random days, like our 4-year anniversary. He would sleep with me and then leave me. He would tell me he loved someone else. Would say he only looked at me like a sister. He would block me and ignore me. He would withhold affection and attention when he wanted to. He would write me within days or weeks and tell me he missed me and that he made a mistake. He would convince me to see him to get items or just to talk. He would hug me and then tell me that I have forgiven him now that I hugged him. He would cry to me about how he loved me so much, about how he couldn’t live without me.
I wasn’t allowed to spend money. I couldn’t have friends because they made me “act up”. I couldn’t work because I would flirt with coworkers. He would spend my money when I got paid. His “gifts” that he bought me, with my money, were movies he wanted or items he would use.
I had become a thief in the past. I was an evil person that used people to convince my abuser to love me. I just wanted him to love me like he did in the beginning. When I finally left and moved home to my parents, I was ashamed of what happened. I told my parents, and they shrugged their shoulders. I told our mutual friends and they said, “It happens. It was my fault for staying. I was stupid for going back. I deserved my punishments.” they said. I was shamed into silence. I was beaten down and broken.
It took years for me to admit that I was abused and even longer to talk about it. There is a 2-year statute for DV which further perpetuates this m a n s cycle of abuse. People like this don’t change. People who enjoy asphyxiation don’t just wake up one day and stop. This isn’t a one-off occurrence. This is an animal. A disgusting POS that deserves to be behind bars. This is someone who wont stop. This person is surrounded by abuse enablers and knows who to pick. This is someone who needs to be locked up and caged.
The abuse doesn’t stop when you leave the abuser. The abuse is lifelong. The abuse takes work to stop. The abuse that you live with in your head only cycles to the next relationship. You chase that high, that “love”. That isn’t love. This isn’t love. This isn’t safe. This isn’t okay. There is better than this. You don’t deserve this. You can leave. You are not alone.
This is something that needs to be talked about. It is something that is prevalent in our society, and it shouldn’t be. Survivors shouldn’t be shamed into silence. People should be taught that this isn’t normal. Others should speak up, others should help. Be that person that speaks up. Be that person that pushes back. Be that person that we aren’t ready to be. HELP US!