The love of my life, scarred me for life

Where do you start at? Do I start with the endless cheating, or the lies that started back in highschool? We got together April 30th 2011. We were both 15, almost 16. Highschool “sweethearts”, he was the “cool/popular kid”, I was the one who was quite and just tried to manage school. I had a boyfriend prior to this new “popular kid” but, we broke up 5 months before I met the new guy who would destroy my life even more.

My first boyfriend… we started dating October 23 2009. I was extreamly young.. I fell for him and he fell for me. We could beat any obstacles together. But, this is for a later blog.

So, the quite girl gets with the popular guy in school. I truly hated this kid until we started talking and hanging out. I knew he was the kid who already had sex, even with much older women; like 26-35 kind of older (he was popular and very very good looking).

Why did I even give this kid who acted like a asshole, and had the ego the size of the world a chance? Good question.. I don’t even know. I am not one to judge from people’s past experiances, or how they act, but this kid was just down right horrible. But, I ended up falling for the guy I never expected/wanted to give a chance to.

The mental abuse started right away. The physical abuse however, started much later. A year or so into our relationship is when the physical abuse started. It gradually got worse. It went from being slapped, and choked, to full-blown attacks on me. He was/is almost 6 foot tall and 190 pounds. I am 4 foot 9 (yes, I am very short, still the same size at 21 as I was at 15), and 115 pounds. He trained with his fighter/boxer dad, and knew many, many moves. Arm bar, headlock, etc. He would do these moves on me, hit me full force, and degrade me. I stayed for 6 years, and I was so naive and young. I moved in with him at 17 and we lived with his mother and the rest of his family together. 

Being the child of a strict family since I was the only child, I did not want to live back at home. So, I dealt with it. He would jump from being mature, to drinking underage and totaling his car 5 times, back to being mature. His mother never gave him consequences, she said “I can’t do anything, I am not stepping up to him.” Meanwhile, her son is drinking underage and totaling the car she bought for him from drinking and driving. His family is very messed up I guess I should say, and they just let their children do whatever. 

The abuse started before the drinking, but once the drinking started it got 20x worse. He had already cheated on me 3-4x by now, by the way. I don’t know if he felt ‘guilty’ when he drank for what he did to me (cheating wise), and just went off on me because he was feeling shitty for what he did, or what. All I know is, I was in for it when he came home 99% of the time, unless he wanted to “fool around” the other 1%.

I had Yankee Candles thrown at my face, been kicked so badly in my stomach that it bruised the whole side of my stomach from my hip to my ribs. I have been called “fat midget bitch” “ugly whore” “smut” and many many more. There’s so many stories, but I don’t have a year to type them out. 

When the drinking would stop for a year (at max) at a time, and he would go back to being good, sober, mature, and like every other human being, I would still be abused. Mental abuse was usually worse half the time when he was sober, but the physical was almost as bad. 

The final time he laid his hands on me, he watched me as I walked out of the house, and never come back. At this point, we had our own place. Which we got in February of 2016. Over a year ago now. 

The final beating was horrfic. He got drunk with a friend, at our new trailer, using my bill money. I came home from a 16 hour shift to find this out. I had to be up in 5 hours for work once again, as soon as I got home. I told him to tell his friend to leave, and took the beer to put it away for another time. Little did I know, he would snap. Once he gets to drinking, he can not stop. If you take his booze away, that sets him off. Bad.

His friend sat in the living room while he heard my cries for help. I think that is what fucked me up the most. Everyone knows how tough he is and how great he fights. He fought 5 people all at once, and won. He has never lost a fight, or when people tried to jump him. So… his friends don’t even try to get inbetween or help.

I had a makeup bag FULL of nail polish in glass bottle thrown at my face so hard that it busted my face open, and broke the nail polish containers. Following that, I tried to leave… wth tears rolling down my face I was told, “I don’t know where you think you’re going, we are just getting started.” He proceeded to rip my purse from me, I grabbed it right when I tried to leave before he said that, and he got my keys out and threw them outside as far as he could. It was 12:30am and pitch black outside. He did the same with my cellphone. I had no way to call for help, or get home to my parents house. He knew I was not scared to call the police on him. I did for a previous situtation, and he was charged with harassment and simple assault. 

Let’s jump to that time really quickly….

That time I was staying at my parents and he kicked the door in right when I went to lock it (I was in the livingroom and seen a shadow since my parents door is right there), and he choked me. My mom was at work, she works nights and my dad was sleeping. Thankfully he heard the struggle and ran out with a gun. He proceeded to hold the gun up, and the asshole just walked out casually. He got beside my car in the driveway as he was leaving, and punched the window shattering my driverside window. I called 911, told them and that is how those charges happened….

Back to the final beating… 

So, cops being called was NOT an issue. He was for throwing my phone and keys in the dark yard at midnight. I tried to run past him to escape, and that made him so mad. He threw me down on the bed, put his knees on my thighs (digging his knees into my thighs so badly….), and had me pinned down with my arms free. He raised a fist and I thought I was dying that night. After so many blows I blacked out. I woke up/came out of the black out in so much pain. Blood running down my face. Bruises already on my body and face. Heartbroken, scared, and mad. I had no clue what to do. He was not in the room. I felt like I was dying. I could barely stand up, I tried to walk, and stumbled. I just knew if he came back he may kill me… So I sucked the pain up, and ran. I got to the back door which was not far away from the room. I ran outside and went to the nearest house. He was behind me running. I was hoping someone would answer before he drug me back inside before anyone seen what he did. 

I heard the door cracking and opening, I looked back and he was running back to the house. The man who answered instantly knew what happened. He actually cried. That is how bad I was beaten that night.
I stayed because I did not want to live at home with strict parents when I was younger. I hit 18 and still stayed. I loved him and tried to make excuses for myself to believe. It is not worth your life, it truly is NOT WORTH IT. Get help. Leave the asshole. Do not let him put it in your head that he will ‘find you’ or ‘kill you’. It can happen, but only if you continue to have contact, and only if you don’t follow police instructions. 
I hope this horrific relationship I had, and the stories I can bring to you guys’ can help someone. I stayed, and it is my fault. I lied to myself. Do NOT MAKE MY MISTAKES

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