Week 9

“Things end. People change. And you know what? Life goes on.”

Welcome to week 9!

As usual if you’re new to my blog please start from the introduction which is the very first post.

I can’t believe I’ve almost summarised the worst parts of my life over 9 weeks. I’d say it’s only one more week until I’m finished and can happily cover related content there after.

This whole writing thing has been truly healing. It’s about me letting out what has happened, acknowledging it and moving forward.

… carrying on from last week. I’ll finish this chapter in one post because it mentions this person who isn’t really worthy of attention. I say that because that’s all they ever crave. So, here’s your five minutes of fame DS! Not that you’ll ever read this but in the off chance you do, well, enjoy.

I was seeing this guy who was basically my get out of town ticket. I didn’t really like him, we didn’t have much in common and I definitely didn’t want a relationship but he wanted to be with me. He would openly tell me he wanted to be with me. I couldn’t blame him, I was very flirtatious and I knew what I had to do to get out of town but I still didn’t want to be committed to anyone. I wanted to taste freedom for as long as I could.

He was a way out of this life but he was also my biggest regret after FW.

Let’s call him DS.

DS knew my situation and knew I was still communicating with FW.

Putting it short, FW wasn’t pleased, DS made me cut all contact with FW, FW then made many violent threats and harassed me over the phone constantly then finally gave up.

He’d send the occasional message but outside of that no more phone calls.

DS and I got together fast. He didn’t like the people I was seeing so that stopped before we got together. Looking back at it now I wish I stayed single because seeing people was fun and I hadn’t had fun in years! Hearts were broken, people were pissed off and I felt nothing.

We fought a lot. Either he was crying or I was getting triggered. It was never steady. I think he stayed with me for that “white knight” look. You know, the one where you look like you cared for someone who went through trauma.

In order to keep my family safe, I moved away to the border with DS. He already lived there so I didn’t need to find a place to stay.

The benefit of moving away was my family being safe.

The disadvantages were that I was far away from family and friends, didn’t have any income and was very isolated.

I was seeing a GP who specialised in mental health and trauma and a psychologist for trauma therapy. I then had a specialist examine my vagina from the trauma I had endured (if you read previous posts you’d understand). The specialist advised me of scarring inside and outside, it was basically mutilated. The specialist was very kind and had a team of women in the room holding me as he was a male examining my private areas.

There are kind people in the world.

My GP and psychologist had a lot to deal with in regards to behavioral issues, PTSD and mental health. I was still in flight AND fight mode 24/7 so their main focus was keeping me alive and safe, safe from the perpetrators and safe from my mind.

I didn’t sleep much. Whenever I had a shower I would break down and hallucinate that my past was happening all over again. It wasn’t easy.

It couldn’t have been easy on DS living with me. If he triggered me, I’d go off my nut or crawl into a ball and cry.

I didn’t like the way DS would speak to me. It was like he had more power over me because he was getting more government benefits than me and his family helped him financially. He would go out with his friends all the time and leave me isolated with my own thoughts. He would tell me that I’m straight because I’m with a man. That really pissed me off because I know my sexuality better than anyone else and he would repeat this constantly. He would make racist remarks about my culture. He would mock some of the clothes I’d wear but I couldn’t afford anything else. He really knew how to wind me up, as if I wasn’t messed up enough.

DS was seeking attention from other women all the time and I couldn’t do anything about it because I had no money and really needed a place to stay.
My psychologist tried helping me find other alternatives so I could be free in this new city but none worked because I had absolutely nothing but a few bags of clothes.

A good friend of mine came to visit me. DS wasn’t pleased so he spat the dummy and pretended to be depressed. I would never accuse anyone of pretending to have mental health issues but I knew him inside and out and I knew when he was trying to manipulate me and others and seeking attention. I ignored him and hung out with my friend. When I came back DS abused the hell out of me. He forced me to go to his friends party when I didn’t want to attend just so he had a sober driver on board. Throughout the night DS discloses to a room of people that he is now depressed and showed them the cuts he made on his arm. They looked like light welts; you could barely see them. He did all of this for attention.
Depression comes in all forms. But you can’t call yourself depressed if you’re stopping your partner from having any quality of life by scratching your arm and announcing “depression” to the world to make them submissive. I was out of my mind.

From that point on I put my needs last and whatever he wanted first so he wouldn’t throw the word around like it was a greeting. Of course it worked because his depression was instantly cured.

A couple of months later I finally land a stable job. The pay rate and hours weren’t much but at least it got me out of the house and I could pay my way in the apartment and everything else.

Then 6 months later I befriend a lawyer whose office I’m cleaning. She must have seen some potential in me because she got me a job there! I had no prior experience or qualifications so we’d spend time after hours training to ensure I did the job right to stay in the role.

Everything was perfect, I was working full time, making friends, earning money and seeing my supports for my trauma.

Everything was perfect, until it wasn’t.

I woke up in the middle of the night to DS on top of me and this sharp pain inside of me. I’m panicking, asking him to stop, telling him it hurts, telling him I don’t want it. His response “I’ll be finished soon”. What in the actual fuck! You’ll be finished soon? No, that’s not okay. I did not give consent. When he finished, I crawled into a ball and cried silently. Then I cried in the shower. I didn’t get a second more of sleep that night. Is it not rape because I didn’t fight back? Or is it rape because I didn’t provide consent? The answer: it IS rape! I didn’t want a part of any of that and he should have stopped when I asked him to. I didn’t fight back from the shock of having him of all people do it to me, like many men in the past have before. In 2014 my trauma resurfaced again from DS actions.

I told my friend the next day. She was absolutely furious. She never liked him in the first place because he hit on her when he first met her right in front of me and expected her to flirt back. She was a respectful young woman who had her friends back. She wanted to kill him for what he did to me. I asked her not to because I had nowhere else to stay.

That’s when she helped me in the best way she could. By using her family lawyer and friend skills.

We devised a plan to break down the relationship, giving me the opportunity to leave.

I started ignoring DS whenever I was home. We wouldn’t speak, at all. On the weekends I would go out with friends or travel to visit family. We may have lived under the same roof but I had zero contact with him. I had almost all of my clothes packed in suitcases and in my car. My friends helped me get furniture together and let me store it at their place until I could find somewhere else to stay.
The relationship had finally broken down. DS would ask me if I loved him and I would say no. He would get upset and beg me to talk to him and stay with him. We were finished. Still living under the same roof but finished. I think he was begging me to stay because I was the one with the job who could cover everything and then some.

My friend invited DS and I to his wedding. DS pleaded and begged that we got along during the wedding for his sake. I felt sorry for him so I agreed. Then I noticed throughout the night how hard he was trying to be accepted by my friends and family and it really showed just how pathetic he is.
I decided to stay with him because I felt sorry for him. I thought he was the biggest loser with no hope in life so he must need something, right? Worst move ever. It’s one of the biggest regrets I have.

That same year I got some really bad news. I always experienced immense pain and bleeding, I would have black clotting coming out for up to 6 weeks at a time then stopping for a week or so and starting again. I had tests done and saw specialist. I was advised that I had blood and fluid leaking into my uterus and pouch of Douglas (if that’s how it’s spelt) plus endometriosis. I saw more specialists and found out that I couldn’t naturally conceive regarding pregnancy. I got a second and third opinion and the results were the same. I can’t get pregnant and it would be a miracle if I could carry a fetus for the duration of a pregnancy.

The news left me and my family distraught. I was planned on being a mother. I wanted 8 kids, a big family like my family. Now I know I can’t have 1.

My father said there’s a lot of kids out there who already need love. That’s when I decided I could still have kids but at a cost, to adopt. It would be like when I had my niece in my care but for life.

When DS and I were on good terms I told him the news. I expected him to leave me but he was supportive. He even came to a few appointments.

DS went back to his old manipulative ways. He would turn into a child having a tantrum or become “depressed” so I would buy him the things he wanted. I was racking up debt to buy him things. I was also racking up debt to pay for my health issues.
Any time DS didn’t get what he wanted he would be silent until he got it.
He would take money from his mum and not tell me about it. He’s not too smart because I could hear her over the phone talking about transferring money. I would pay for everything else so when he got a job his money was his own.

DS would take guitar lessons, fighting lessons, travel to other cities to go out with friends and I’d be at home by myself because I couldn’t afford to do anything after paying for his things and things for the apartment.

I lost a lot of friends because DS would get jealous or depressed if I talked or hung out with them. Isolated again.

He would seek love and attention from other women. As if it wasn’t enough to get compliments from me, he would have more than just emotional relationships with women. I would blow up every time I found out and his response was always “I don’t know why I do it”. Well I know why. You’re insecure, have low self esteem and think the only way you can boost it is to be with more than just one person and you get off on sneaking around with women because it’s like a game of hide and seek. You like the challenge and the mystery. Well, you’re a child.

He would say he’s an asshole that pretends to be nice. No, you’re a loser pretending to be anything that gets you noticed.

I would pay for his tattoos and he would call himself a thug for having tatts and a piercing. Again, no, you’re still a loser, that’s why I stayed with you, because I felt sorry for you.

It was past feeling sorry for him now. I was in a state of believing that this is the person I’m stick with for the rest of my life. I firmly believed that.

I got a new job because I was being heavily bullied that the law firm and it affected my mental health so much so that I was crying every day and hallucinating.

I got a job in mental health. It was great, the people there were so kind and everyone welcoming.

I started making friends there but didn’t tell them about my past.

I became a white ribbon advocate and finally got the chance to tell my story about my history of domestic violence. My workplace then just supported me more.

DS became depressed AGAIN because I was hanging out with friends occasionally.

I didn’t stop this time though.

One night I came home and DS was upset. He broke up with me. I gave a sigh if relief but then instantly was thinking of where I would live next being deep in debt. He was crying throughout his break up speech then cried more because I wasn’t crying. He was saying the following: “you don’t call me handsome enough, you don’t give me enough attention” ugh hello, I compliment you every day and buy you anything you want. “you’re more masculine than me and that makes me feel small”. Well maybe you should workout hard like I do. “you’re more of a man than a woman”. Well this is true. “you’re always doing something successful in your life and I feel like I’m left in the background”. No I invite you to everything and it’s you who declines the offer; but you’re right I am successful.
He reminded me of the time I lied about quitting smoking, I didn’t remind him of all the times he cheated on me.
The list in his speech goes on but I don’t care to right about it. I didn’t even care to fight back when he broke up with me. I actually consoled him and supported him to feel comfortable through the process.

Finding a new place was difficult.

I was $50,000 in debt because of DS and my health issues and I had a companion animal so it took me 4 weeks to find a place.

After I found a place, I saw DS maybe twice, then never again.

I was finally free. FINALLY.

I’ll talk about what happened when I broke free and was left to my own devices next week.

I would like to say a big thank you to my friends during that period of my life but a special thank you to my “lawyer Lady friend”. You helped me when I needed support the most. I’m sorry our relationship went south on both of our ends but just know that you have made a positive impact in my life.

After writing this I’m going to assume it’ll be 2 more posts before I can cover relatable content and stories (not all will be my own).

Thanks for reading. See you next week!

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