I am new here, but i just wanted to let you know that there is a light at the other end of the tunnel. this is the first time i have ever let this all out.
i met my abuser when i was 15 at school, he was a year older than me. my abuse began at mental and emotional and then escalated to physical and sexual. it got real bad. after being with him a month he raped me, in my own bedroom. i lost myself, i couldn't sleep in my bed anymore so i slept on the floor from then on.
he never left me alone from then on and he took all of the time that was meant to be spent with my family and my friends. ultimately the gaps grew bigger and bigger. i still dont understand how he could just pretend that nothing happened.
he made my life so hard that my schooling suffered, i ended up failing my exams as i never had time to study and i was so depressed. my dreams of going to university were gone. i started self harming, cutting my arms, drinking alcohol and smoking dope.
i tried to tell my parents, but nobody believed me because he was so nice in public. and that was when the straight A student suddenly became a problem child, he had lovely manners and came from a wealthy family. this last one was enough for my dad to completely accept him with open arms. i had been replaced.
he then left for university, leaving me with no direction, no friends and told me to wait for him. at uni he had many lovers. he would drunkenly call me to tell me how great his last b.j. was.
i secretly went to college, to study anything i could, to get out of his grip and to get out of the area. he found out from my parents and came back. he collected me and took me to the university to stay with him, the abuse got worse and i concieved my first child via rape. i returned home and when i told my parents that i was pregnant my dad told me that i was no longer welcome at home and to "get the hell out". so i was 17 at this point, pregnant and homeless. my parents told my abuser and he quit uni and came back. i had to live with him. i lost the baby at around 3 months, but i was still in that relationship. i was misurable, alone and terrified.
the beatings got worse and he began locking me in the house. i couldnt even open a window. i was left with ridiculous tasks to complete in the day while he went to work (e.g. dry the washing, but had no dryer and no way of getting outside), exact meals to prepare which he would then throw at me boiling hot because he decided he didn't want it anymore and then left to buy chinese.
i was a mess. i wasnt allowed nice clothes or a wash i had to always wear loose black clothes with holes in them. i was told that i was fat, ugly, and that he was the only one who really wanted me. he felt sorry for me. that i was nothing and that he was helping me. i began to hate other people. i hid when someone knocked at the door and avoided all conversations. ( i still do)
in the next few months i concieved baby after baby through the violence and each time i found out i was pregnant i was badly beaten, starved and treated like a slave. i lost each baby, until i concieved twins. one died and the other is now my eldest child.
throughout my pregnancy my life was hell. i was attacked after a night of him drinking and treatened with a kitchen knife, i had to barricade myself into the property on one occasion and during my second pregnancy after a serious beating he threw petrol from the lawnmower can on my legs and threatened to throw lit matches on me. i was an emotional wreck. everytime i escaped back to my family they gave me back, and he took me to the doctors one day to say that i was crazy and needed "help". they put me on strong tablets that made me woozy. this is the world that i was to bring my babies into.
i feel so guilty for being able to have children, i gave 2 children life in the time that i was with him and every day i suffer with guilt. each time i was giving birth i was told in a low tone that he hoped we both died. i was terrified.
i had to beg for food and milk to feed my babies, i had to do unspeakable acts just to apease him for moneya whole £20 per week, money that he could reduce whenever he wanted for whatever reason he wanted. he owned my bank accounts and spent the money i recieved for the children on xbox games, alcohol and fast food for him and his friends. i have used kitchen towel and carrier bags as nappies, fed my newborns cows milk and powdered rice with water. i made slits in their clothes so they could still fit them as they grew. we had nothing.
but unfortunately even the newborns couldnt escape his violence. he wold kick their moses basket to "shut them up", he got irritated when they cried and would kick them when they were crawling or standing, carelessly hit their heads off of walls and door frames, refuse me to pick them up because of "spoiling them" and lock them in their room for hours on end. i put myself between him and the children on hundreds of occasions, took the beatings for them. but i couldn't always protect them. they endured a lot, from being forced to defecate in their own clothes as they were refused the use of the toilet and then being severely beaten for it or being so hungry they had to eat from the bin scraps. like me, my kids still have memories and nightmares. and still no one listens.
writing this im actually amazed at how we are actually still alive.
eventually it got too much, his drinking and weekend partying. the cheating and the abuse. i began to wake up and a fire ignited inside of me. i used his family and my family against him, by implying that i wanted to set up my own business. and they all (unknowingly) trapped him into agreeing.
i began to go to college to study that subject, i sold my wears privately. half payable upfront on order day to cover my costs and the other half on collection day was sheer profit. i used it to buy food, milk and nappies. he couldnt stop me. i found this new strength, i earned and i bought. i didnt need to beg. i wasnt locked in anymore. he couldnt get away with it.
but he did live like a pig, it was embaressing to bring clients to my home. he was loud and rude his manners disappeared and the head games got worse.
after class on one evening i came home to him giving the babies a bath. he told me that he knew i was planning on leaving him, and that i was cheating on him. i wasnt. he started yelling and grabbed both of the kids he was saying that he would drown them if i didnt swear to stay with him. he had been drinking again. he dunked the kids and while i begged and pleaded i was powerless. the children are ok but that scared the crap out of me. and only cemented my need to escape.
he showed how proud he was of me in front of the family and yet behind closed doors constantly told me how useless i was, how i was going to fail and how i would never make it because im worthless.
but i didn't care. i was already planning my escape.
it took a long time to build up the courage to leave him and 5 years ago i did. in 2012 i left for women's aid, they placed me in emergancy housing and helped me apply to the council for a house and benefits. i didn't even know what a benefit was until this point.
the death threats came thick and fast,not just from him but now his parents and he was already showing off his new fiance, a girl my age. by face he had moved on in a few weeks but behind he was always calling, stalking me and my family and abusive on the street.
i took to shopping at 3am in 24hour asda a 2 hour walk from my hiding place in womens aid. because i was so scared of who i would bump into at day time. i saved as hard as i could, i ate very little and gave my kids everything. i bought them their first clothes, we owned toothbrushes and i had my first shower in a year. living in womens aid was bliss, a freedom i had never believed possible.
not long after my now ex started using the courts to gain access to the children, his children. that hurt the worst. he never cared for them, he hated them. i let him have contact and the mind games were aweful. he gave them a gift one christmas and told them to leave mummy as he has loads at his house. he still hasnt changed.
i bought my first car, a Peugeot independence , a fitting name i may add. i couldnt overtake anything, but i had wheels.
i moved into my own home 6 months after leaving my ex. it was fantastic, right beside the sea. huge two bed terraced house. i loved it. kids loved it too. but the happiness didnt last. he found me, dont ask how, but he did. him and his mates would stand outside my house on the street. i was trapped again.
my solicitor at the time made a deal that if i didnt go to the police about the abuse then he wouldnt go for residency, dumb idea that was but i was told that i had very little chance of keeping the children because i had nothing compared to him. so i couldnt do anything about it.
my solicitor advised me to run to england, as english law should protect us. and i did.
thats the end of part one
(bloody hell that was hard!)