Abuse comes in many many forms. For me, the key sign was alcohol abuse. Not daily alcohol, I would not have put up with that, but the inability on my partner's part to stop drinking once started. The alcohol allowed her to move from verbal and emotional abuse into physical abuse.
One warning I will give others is that the physical abuse does not always start small and build up. For me it came down in a big way the very first time she laid a hand on me. We were cleaning our apartment after having moved into a larger place. We were really tired and were resting on a mattress on the floor, the only remaining furniture in the place. I don't remember the trigger at this point, but it was nothing much. The alcohol set her free to exercise her frustration by beating me up. She leapt on top off me, throwing me down half off the mattress with my head on the hardwood floor. She punched me in the face and shoulders and flung me around like a madwoman landing punches on my back as well. She grabbed my hair and started pounding my head into the floor, over and over again. I felt sure in that moment that she was going to kill me. The only thing that saved me was the telephone ringing. Somehow the ringing allowed her to realize what she was doing. She backed off me and answered the phone. It was my parents, god bless them. I was still laying on my back on the floor when she handed me the phone. They were coming from Ohio to visit me (in California) in two days. I did not tell them what they had interrupted, nor did I ask for their help. I was still bruised when they arrived, but like a typical abused woman I was embarrassed and did my best to cover it up. I know my mother saw the bruises on my shoulder, but somehow she kept quiet as well.
What was most stupid was that I stayed in that relationship for another six years. She quit drinking eventually (after an incident in which she put herself in great danger), and I threatened to tell her parents (whom I had spoiled with kindness, and whose love I had worked hard to earn) what she was doing to me. So the physical abuse stopped. The attempts to isolate, the put downs, the degradation, all continued.
Again I was saved, this time in a very ironic way. She saved me herself - by cheating on me over and over. Many nights she came home very late or not at all. This gave me time alone to think, and oddly enough, more time to spend with my friends, time to realize what an idiot I was.
It took a while, and there were many steps, but eventually I ended the relationship. Recovery was slow and overlapped with the time I entered into a new relationship with the person who would become the husband I speak of so lovingly, now passed. He gave me 25 years of love and support. He welcomed my family and friends, and was loved in return. I was lucky to have had all that time with him. He treated me with respect and valued me as a person.
I hope those of you who are still in abusive relationships are able to open your eyes to your own value, and that you can figure out a way to end the abuse.
Smooches,
Keri
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