So you asked what I see when I have been abused, tortured and raped by a man who claimed to love me. I am not going to lie. I loved him back. I loved him with all my heart and soul at one point in our relationship. Even when he had his breakdowns, I tried to understand him, even when he said he wanted to kill people and it was a feeling and it was not a feeling. He was a natural born Psychopath, it was just a matter of time before he started to kill. He will kill. He said that “I saved him from that” He never cried until he met me. It was like he was holding it all in. I don’t don’t if it was a lack of empathy or apathy, but the first time he layed his hands on me was in his car. He was pissed off for me telling him that he shouldn’t be arguing with his mother while he was driving. Just like that he snapped. Maybe I should not have told him what to do. I just thought I was doing the right thing. The second time it was in our first apartment together only it was more severe and he could have killed me. It wasn’t a seizure. Meme our cat jumped on him and he screamed and I told him it’s only our cat. He proceeded to blame me, but it was our cat. I still to this day wonder if it was me who scratched him. He proceeded to push me until one of my alters came out and probably started to say nasty things and cut themselves. That’s when he snapped charged into the bedroom and took a hold of my neck and held me down on the matress tighter than a rubberband goes around somesones hair. He shook and pounded into my thighs and spit continuously on me saying vugarities. It was tortorus and half of it I don’t even remember until I was checked out by the doctor.
I received multiple contusions from that night and that was a week later from my primary care. He advised me not to see him. But this man was in the mental institution and his family persuaded me that “what man admits his faults and goes and gets help” I started to feel bad that maybe I did something wrong, that I had pushed him to do what he did to me. He got help but God tends to do funny things for justice and a cop stopped me in his car and I blew the story. The cop the next night stopped again by my house and wanted to know details he said I looked roughed up and that it was CT state law to report these incidents. So my gut said yes I should report this because if I don’t he will never learn. He never did learn after the protective order was in place and after because I was so afraid after I threaten to call the police so many times after the protective order was in place and he was threatening me and my life.
This abuse, and torture went on and he even had sex with my alters and got off on it. I was pissed and he was mad and we got into various arguements about that. I didn’t like it because those alters, others were created out of trauma and he was just fucking with my system. Raping me as it’s so called and taking advantage of me. Then when he had his blow ups I was a punching bag and he tried to say that he was a punching bag. It was hard because I really loved him and at the same time I couldn’t take the beatings that he threw at me. Or when he threw me down on the ground. Now I am healed a little bit more I am feeling much better without him in my life constantly harping on me.
When I almost took my like with 100 Donatal, it was my other love Rhonda who had saved me from the darkness of death that was closing in. He had been obsessed with death too. And that is fine but when you are obsessed with it is wrong. I have seen death and trust me, you do not have to fear or be obsessed because death is beautiful and a beautiful dream that goes on and on forever. I guess the doctors took me back from that dream. When death comes for me, it will not be by the hands of someone who is evil and wants to do harm to me. It might be by my own hands but I doubt it, because I am in love with a woman and I want to live the rest of my life being gentle to myself and to her. It will be peacefully in bed at a hospital somewhere, I don’t care. And I will see death and behind the Reaper I will see my family that has passed on. And my ex that has tortured me will not be one of them.
When I was in the “nut hut” as they call it the mental institution, the doctors said I had a form of stockholm syndrome. They said how could I live with someone for four years who treated me with such disrespect, tortured, hit and restrained me and still loved him? I questioned myself and said “I don’t know, maybe I didn’t deserve better.” I felt strong feelings after the first time he had hit me and felt I could not leave him, he provided for me. I felt I was weak. It wasn’t until I met Rhonda that that changed. I felt strong inside like there was something growing and I could strike back somehow, like a cobra does when a snake charmer gets too close when it keeps it captive.
I did it finally I hit him when he was hitting me against the washer and dryer and I was trying to get to work. I hit him! He didn’t like that I was working. He would show that he liked it and he didn’t like me getting close to my family. That was another thing that I didn’t like. The family still likes me and blames him. He hates his family, he feels he can’t be around his family for they inflicted trauma on him and made him do things like go for and Easter Egg hunt with this cousins. I didn’t understand that but I tried to see how that could be traumatizing. Unlike my father giving me a bloody nose at age 6 for coming home when school was cancelled and my father did not know about it.
I had a monster for an ex fiancee. I did. He was vagrant out in my backyard for so many months and would not leave. God what did I get myself into. I dated a monster.