The "Perfect" Life

I am going to preface this by saying: I am by no means trying to ruin anyone's character. I am speaking on my experience with a person, and how I fully blame myself for not knowing my worth and strength earlier. I pray this was only my experience with this individual; however, no one really knows. What I do know is: I'll own up to turning into a monster, and being filled with nothing but hate for multiple years. Being surrounded with toxic, turns you toxic, and sometimes you don't know how else to beat it besides becoming it as well.

I say multiple years, because I never realized the importance of focusing on myself until recently. I never realized how negative and toxic I was until I got very raw with myself. What I attracted, was a true reflection of myself. I attracted the broken, toxic, abusive relationships in my life. Honestly, I didn't think anything was wrong with it, because it's what I was used to. I was used to the, "that's just how I am" mentality. And that is a FUCKED-UP mentality! If you have it, fix it... no sugar coating. It is fucked up, and creates nothing positive. That mentality kept attracting the abuse, and I am a firm believer of it. It's just what I was used to; it was my comfort zone.

I'm sure I spoke on this before, but my "that's just how I am" mentality was: anytime something went wrong, I used to completely lose my mind. Once one thing wasn't going the way I had hoped, all of a sudden, I turned the situation into “everything is terrible, and I’m nothing but a failure, and should just end my life.” When I say meltdown, I mean full blown “screaming like a toddler” hissy fit. I took it out on those closest to me.. NOW THAT'S FUCKED UP! THAT'S TOXIC! I was broken, and I made it insanely difficult for those around me to be supportive of me. That's one example of me being toxic, so in return, I tended to attract those who validated me as not being enough. I never took the time to heal and find my true self. I would turn into what others wanted. Which naturally leads to self hate and if you don't love yourself, you aren't ever going to be able to love someone else.

We used to joke around and say “'till death”.. even the inside of our rings had “'till death” engraved, and when I say this man tried, he really did. If he wasn't just physically trying to end me, it was being pushed so far mentally that I was on the verge of doing it myself. I remember days after days of praying he would just do it, so I could escape and finally be free from him. When they are skilled, they truly are masterminds at the control techniques.They are able to easily make you think you are the crazy one. I'm not going to pretend like I didn't have toxic traits, because I absolutely picked up on his habits, plus ones I had prior. It was adding gas to a fire. When we tried therapy, our therapist turned to us and was like, "How are you guys still married?" I think we were able to go as long as we did, because we really didn't see how bad it was. I know for a fact I didn't, and I just figured I had to change everything about myself and all the abuse would stop. In all reality, I started changing, and everything got worse. I was turning into a very negative version of myself.

There were so many signs that I was being mentally controlled prior to getting married, that I didn't think anything of. There was one day, I was working, and I was informed about how “I'm only good for being used and abused like everyone else before him”. I didn't know how to feel, so I turned to some co-workers (who informed me of how abnormal that is to say to someone). I looked at it as him just trying to protect me.. The truth was all the mental abuse was to really gain control over me. It was to have me so weak I would do whatever he said, and finally be the person he wanted me to be. I justified everything, because he wasn't putting his hands on me so, "it's not abuse". Things turned physical pretty quickly into the relationship. The first instance I got grabbed by my hoodie collar, and thrown into my closet door at the house. But I justified it... "because he didn't hit me". He apologized afterward, so in my mind, it was okay. Because he was "sorry". As he said he would never have done that if I had listened in the first place... in my weak mind, I was the problem. I didn't listen, and he did what he had to do so I would listen. I fully blamed myself for that, because he was just trying to help me be a better person.

Every instance kept getting worse and worse. I used to fight back, and completely justify anything he ever did as, “it's fine, I can hold my own,” or, “as long as I let him ‘win’, it wouldn't go to any extreme that I couldn't handle”. Each physical instance followed up with a conversation on why he had to do it. I fully believed the only way I would listen was by him doing that. I am a very stubborn and assertive person, and I thought he knew best, so it made sense to me in the moment. It felt as if I was fully cast under his spell. I was young and always picked the wrong guys before. He was the nice guy. He was the one. He KNEW BEST. I had to be like him, because he was the prize, and I didn't want to lose him. He was a parent longer than I was, so he knew best with parenting as well. Which is why when we went on a family trip to the waterpark, and we thought we forgot to pack a toy his son just won at the arcade, it made sense that all the blame should be on me. And since it might have been left behind, I need to jump out of the moving car in front of a semi to make it better. Because according to him, I, "ruined his son's life," even though I offered to buy the exact same one if it was left behind. But according to him, "it's not the same". Another time, when I finally started to fight back, he showed me just how strong he really is and his willingness to do whatever it takes to have the power over me. I laid on the bed in tears begging him to let go of my wrists, but he wouldn't until he felt like I learned my lesson. This led to weeks and weeks of pain, because I had severely broken my wrist a few years prior.

How dare I ever call the cops on him, if I never did for those that put their hands on me before? That was fed to me constantly. That is a good point. I could handle it. It's normal for me anyway, so why not just deal with it? Plus side: at this point he never actually hit me, so it wasn't physical abuse. As far as I was concerned, I should be grateful, because he's informed me he's “unalived” people before and has “no problem doing it again”. In between this, and being aware of his previous domestic violence charges, I knew it could be worse. So, if I had to deal with that to be with him, I was okay with that. I viewed this man as being my savior, and the best thing to ever happen to me. So I was willing to deal with anything, because he "loved" me. 

Things escalated... which is how they always go, especially when you try to justify someone's shitty behavior. The Universe has a weird way of throwing rocks at you to try to warn you, the next thing you know you get hit with a boulder and figure things out quickly. That's exactly what happened until I realized it was only a matter of time before he actually did. You could see it in his eyes, the look of pure evil. Was he drunk? No, he did everything completely sober. Weapons involved? No, he used his bare hands every time. That's how you know someone is truly evil. When they can wrap their hands around the person they supposedly love’s neck and watch them beg for help.

The first time I realized he was willing to go to different extremes, was when we were sitting on the couch having a slight argument, where he felt the only way to end the conversation was to hold me down and repeatedly punch me until I had a baseball size bruise on my thigh.. However, no one saw that. They didn't see the weeks of me crying, because I couldn't wear shorts. They didn't see the extensive phone searches to ensure I never took any pictures, or sent them to anyone. The outside saw a "happily married" couple at a power-lifting meet. This was a few months after my medical issues. I forgave him though, because he explained why he "had to do it". I didn't listen to him, and was arguing back. We both agreed I had a problem with not listening to him. I fully believed he knew what was best for me. Plus he did have 6 months incarcerated to "work on himself," so he's a different man. I was struggling severely with my mental health at this point due to medical issues. In my eyes, he was my safe haven so why would he hurt me unless he had to? I was the problem. I was stubborn, I didn't listen... HE HAD TO. He apologized, and I thought that was only a one-time occurrence. It was... the one time the universe worked in my favor, and left a bruise. It was just the start of the extent he would go physically. I fed myself lie after lie, because I was vulnerable and genuinely wanted to believe I changed him. 

Some history of him: unfortunately, he grew up in a household where his father treated his mother the same way before she passed. He was well aware of that being wrong, and he never wanted to treat his wife that way. Yet he did. I felt like I failed, because he knew he didn't want to be that way, but he was. However, when I would express that I was crazy.. in my head what if he was different, and I was the one causing him to be so abusive since I was stubborn?

As I've stated time and time before I wasn't perfect, and I am stubborn. At times I didn't listen to him, and what he wanted me to do. I EMBODIED the fact I was supposed to bow down to this man, and that is exactly what I did. Jokes on me; it didn't fix everything. I still wasn't good enough, and truth is, I'll never be good enough. I firmly believe I married someone who hates women, and is never capable of true love. He thrives on destroying others until he has full control over them. A true master manipulator who feels no emotion towards others, but knows how to put on a good show.

The good show on the outside kept me around the longest. I felt I was crazy, because I had the "perfect" life. The "perfect" life: where I would cringe anytime I made him mad and we were physically together. The "perfect" life: where I would pray he would just kill me, so I would be free. The "perfect" life: where I would pray for something to happen to him, so I would feel safe again. The "perfect" life: where I had to constantly remind myself I was happy, because I thought I really had the perfect life. The "perfect" life: where I was crying every day, and it was constant fights starting in the morning. The "perfect" life: where he tried to kill me in the car, and proceeded to scream at me, because I was having anxiety, and if he was actually going to kill me, he would be sure to cut me up and mix my remains in cement, so no one would find me.

I remember screaming out to the universe for help to get away. I didn't know how to safely leave, because when I asked for a divorce, I was informed if I left that he would kill me and my son would be without both of us. He constantly reminded me he would find me if I tried to leave... so in my mind, I couldn't. I didn't want to put that risk of something happening on my family, and my family was the only one I could turn to. I had cut out all my friends at this point, and didn't have contact with them for a few years. When I say I prayed he was cheating on me, it was the best day ever when I found out he was.... I truly thought if there was infidelity on his part, he would be willing to just let me leave.. I WAS SO WRONG.

We were sitting on the couch, and I was trying to have a casual conversation with him to ask for a divorce.. I knew if I screamed at him, it would turn physical… but so did being civil. There wasn't much arguing before he grabbed by my neck and picked me up and choked me out to the point of my left side cracking. I tried saying "I love you" when he threw me to the ground, and looked me in the eyes and said, "You are really going to tell me you love me as I just did that.” As I was trying to catch my breath, my son comes in yelling, "Mommy, Mommy!” I knew in that moment, I had to get out. The next morning I called the cops for help because he took my phone after that incident.. 

This individual had a history of domestic violence, so when I reached out the police station in the area said, "You know who you married.” I was in disbelief, and so were the witnesses who heard the conversation. I felt so defeated, because I knew I wasn't going to be able to leave in a civil manner. The last thing I wanted to do was go the PFA route and get law enforcement involved. I loved this man, and I knew with his history he was going to go to jail, and I never wanted to feel like I ruined his life. I gave it a few more weeks, because he apologized and explained he only did this, because he “didn't want me to leave,” and, "divorce wasn't an option.” Honestly, at this point… I didn't give a fuck. I'd gladly take another divorce if I was able to make it out alive with my son. 

Fast forward a few weeks of his bullshit mind games.. I played the extreme anxiety card and packed up 10 boxes, and told him I was staying with my mom one weekend when he was out of town cheating on me. I called my mom, and we quickly packed everything and took off to my hometown. I went "crazy" on him asking him to send me a photo of the outside of the gym he said he was at. Things turned violent quickly when he was on the phone with me threatening my mom, sons, and my life. I ran to the police station near my house and tried to keep him from knowing what I was doing. The officer listened to all the threats on the phone and did everything he could to get me an emergency PFA out of the county of residence. This man was skilled. I felt so terrible for getting the PFA, and thinking maybe give him one more chance. We tried texting for a little while from 8am, when the emergency PFA expired, to when I was supposed to get the temporary PFA at 10am that day. I was yelling to the universe for a sign if I was supposed to go with the process. He said he would never put his hands on me again, and I was in my head thinking we could make it work. I was expressing to him how I didn't feel safe meeting and talking in person. He was trying to get me to meet for lunch at a public place, and I still didn't feel safe being in the same room as him. 

OH BOY..... did the universe deliver a sign. I was walking out of the place I worked at 9:47am to go to my appointment for the PFA at 10am. He showed up right when I was walking out and jumped in my vehicle. I was able to make up a lie to where I was going, and said I was handing out flyers. He came with me, and the whole time I'm trying to text people to let them know he was here, and I didn't feel safe. My boss at the time was my savior by talking to me about work related things, because she was aware of the situation. Going to make a long story short... When he was with me, he kept threatening my life, and telling me I wasn't supposed to get law enforcement involved, because by the time they would come I would already be dead so it doesn't matter. Within this time period, he was reminding me of the damage he did with his hands, so if he wanted to kill me he easily would. How no one would be able to find me once he cuts me up and hides my body. 

I was scared to ask for help from the cops again, because he was so angry about me doing it the first time. So I was debating with myself, because it truly was the last thing I wanted to do. I was able to get away, and he left. However, I wasn't answering him, because I was trying to give the officers my statement and get help. He showed up again not even a few hours later, and this led to his arrest due to his history of domestic violence and I broke down into tears because that was the last thing I wanted to do. I never wanted him arrested, I wanted to be able to leave safely. I was scared, because he was involved in a hostage situation a few years prior and I didn't want him to go upstate for 10+ years… but I had to remember: I was finally free and able to get away.

The hell didn't stop there... it actually just started. 

The ups and downs of healing started, the self-medicating, the unhinged and reckless behaviors, the self-hate, the trauma bond of feeling like I can't live without him. The man I loved and built a life with was my abuser and I had to come to terms with that.