• 💖 [Donate To Keep MyPTSD Online] 💖 Every contribution, no matter how small, fuels our mission and helps us continue to provide peer-to-peer services. Your generosity keeps us ad-free, independent, and available freely to the world.

Abuse ptsd



Hi everyone,

I read that writing about ptsd helps to move on. So here I am giving it a try. I could write it just for myself but that just feels silly.

10 years, that is how long I was in a relationship that was not right for me. The story starts as any normal relationship. We were in the same class in high school and he seems like this really sweet guy. Brown hair, pretty blue eyes and what seemed a great personality. We became friends and a few months later we went on our first date. Romantically going on his scooter to the movies. It was fun. His parents were just the most loveliest people I met. They welcomed me in to their family. Other then mine they were together and seem happy. At my home my mother and step-dad argued a lot and my brother just entered the worst puberty mood swings ever. So I was often at R. place. After a while I started to noticed we didn't really move on in our relationship (sexuelly). I tried to make my moves, but he wasn't really ready. So I waited. During our first months he became more involved in my life. As in he started to decide a friend was not good for me. His arguments sounded justified. She was a high school friend and since high school ended we didn't talk as much. So things ended slowly, with R. asking more and more of my time. After 9 months or so, he wanted to live together. Which was crazy goes neither one of us had a job. But he didn't wanted to travel to school as much. So his sweet parents agreed and helped us to look for a house. They would apparently pay the rent. I wasn't sure about this. I was 18 and I wanted to wait another year. Again he came with great arguments why we should move in together. I didn't know how to refuse. I had a lot of trouble saying no to him (or anyone really). So I hoped my mother would refuse in my stead. She did. But R. got angry at her. Shouting that she shouldn't stop us to live our lives and we could live without her. And if she wanted to be part of our lives then she should help out more. She should be like his parents: put your kids before yourself. My mom was shocked and got a bit scared of him. She said if this is what you want then you can do it.

I didn't wanted it. I was doubting my every step. He and his parents had me feeling so loved. His parents gave my gifts and I felt guilty to just say: yeah the relationship is over, bye. I decided to give it more time. R. wanted my decision about the house. I shared my doubts with him and he got angry. He smashed his hand against the wall, right next to my head. He said if I loved him there should be no doubts about this. I never felt so scared of someone. I screamed okay, I want to live together let's just do it. With shaking hand I called the house owner that we would like to rent it from him. So there I was. Moving to a new place. I decided his behavior most have been a fluke, a one time thing. After a week in our new place, he told me he wanted to be a girl. If I could please help him with it. He loved me and didn't wanted to lose me. But this was how he felt. Me who wants to help everyone, of course said I would help him/her. It became quick apparent that the one time smash to the wall was not a fluke. Whenever things got tough for R. he got angry and frustrated. The door ended up with a hole in it. He would be demeaning to me. Telling me I wasn't a real girl if I didn't put make-up on or put on high heels. Most of the time he was sweet and kind after one of his moods. I ended up sweet talked into giving him more time.

One day my mother wanted to go shopping with me. He made me swear that I would not say anything. Every 10 minutes he would sent a text or call. My mom got worried but I dismissed it. R, was just worried I would tell someone his secret. After a year we moved to another city, even closer to university. It was a nice house with a garden. I thought in this house it most go better.

I was wrong. His behavior got worse and so did my depression. My self-worth was quickly becoming 0. I had depression before when I was 16. So this feeling wasn't new, but how he made it so much worse was. He told me nobody loved me but him. My parents didn't gave a damn about me (or so he said). The garden became my safe-haven. Whenever he had a fit, I would run there. He didn't dare to make fuss outside. Even though I am pretty sure neighbors knew something was up. Nobody said anything about the screaming or the sounds.
Sometimes he just pushed me for no reason out of my chair. Or the reason was that I breathed to loud. So we got other desks so he had more space. One time I cooked the food wrong, so a plate with food was thrown to pieces. I just wished to die. Somehow I kept going while studying, while working, while cleaning. I was so numb and when I felt it was just tears. To other people I just smiled like everything was okay. I must have been good at it, because nobody ever knew how much I was hurt inside. I tried to end it so many times. He always had arguments why he was the only one who would love me. Or he just broke me. Or he cried. Or het said he would kill himself if I would go. Or he worked on my guilt, he had done so much for me (his parents payed for the house and stuff).
One time during a conflict I tried to yell back. Stupid mistake, everything you do to him he does 10 back. His hands found a way around my throat and I thought this is it. This is how I die. But he stopped and just kept saying stuff. I felt that every time something like this happened a little piece of my died.

We moved again. The girl next door asked if I was alright. She heard us scream sometimes and she had though about calling the police. I looked a her, all numb. I wondered why didn't she. I lied to her and said that our fights sounded worse that it was. I cried as I walked away from her. I couldn't possibly ask for her help. What could she do?

Our new house had more lights and had more privacy. So maybe less frustrated behavior from R. He could come and go as a her if he wished. This did seem to relax him a little. He became more okay to live with. He was still mean in het comments but his sweet side came out more often. Until it didn't. I was just part of his house now. Something less than him but still part of him. If he didn't like something that I did, he gave met THE look. His angry eyes. I was a fraction of what I once was. I knew exactly what he liked and disliked, but I knew nothing about myself anymore. I once again tried to leave. Once again he fell back in his old habits. Once again I felt his hand around my neck as I fell to the ground. I just wanted it to end or let him make a mark. Let someone noticed that I am not okay. That I am not alright. But I heal quick. No fingermarks to show. So nothing happened...
We moved on. Until he thought I breathed to load in bed. He found something new. Evidently I was now snoring. Something that didn't bother him earlier and now it did. He had a funny way of showing it. In the dark while I was a sleep, he would kick me hard against my leg. I couldn't sleep in the bed anymore if I snored. So I should just go to the couch. We didn't have a nice sleeping couch, it was rough. So I bought a air-matrass, since it was bound to happen again. He got angry I bought one. I wouldn't need it anyways. The couch was good enough for me. Still it came in handy for many nights.

R. decided pretty much our life schedule. If he didn't wanted to go to sleep, we stayed up. If I did went to sleep, he would wake me up when he would go to sleep. I gave up after a while even though I need more than 6 hours sleep. So with the nightly kicking and sleeping on a bad air-matrass. I was sleep deprived. This made my depression much much worse. My will to live was getting less less. So I got anti-depression medication and yet another therapist (third one). This helped me realize what was going on, but leaving was still hard. After 6 months I finally decided to leave. I got the boxes. I would not fall again for is arguments. When I told him, he cried again saying he would fix it. He would be better. So I gave him 1 more week. He didn't change and I said it was now final. He got angry with words (luckily). I got 1 hour to pack. 1 hour for 10 years together is not a lot of time to get what is yours. Nor it gave me anytime to discus what I could keep. But I didn't care at that point. I wanted to get out and go to my mom.

Finally save!

But yet here I am with PTSD, 3 years later. I got out of the house but he is still living in my mind. The pain is still there. All those years of pushing my emotions aside. It now bubbles up. A few nights ago I got so scared and all the pain was flushing back. I cried so much. My husband (W) was so confused. He hugged me until I felt okay again.
I hate that R. is still living in my mind. Making me unsure of everything. Making me doubt every step I take further away from the scared girl that I was. I guess that is why I still push it all away. Pretending that I am not a victim of abuse. Pretending this awful thing that happened is not my story but just some movie I have seen. Does this feeling of being scared ever go away? Am I ever going to be 100% happy and alright?
The flashback are the worst. The feeling of no escape and the constant danger. The stress of that alone just makes me feel exhausted.
Makes sense he is still in your mind, given how he coerced and controlled you for so long. And during your teenage and young adult years, where you were forming who you were.
It's a lot to address.
But it is possible to.

Do you have a T?

Is anyone 100% happy or alright? Maybe being happy enough and alright enough is something to aim for?
Hello @rylana, that sounds like a hellish ordeal. It reminds me of living with my dad. He was very abusive and violent. It takes time to get over abuse and the effects of ptsd. It sounds like (R) was a very insecure person which was why he was so controlling and coercive. I'm glad you have a new caring husband.

No one is ever 100% happy and alright. Its unobtainable. Even people that have had zero trauma and depression in their lives that have had good and peaceful upbringings still have moods and bad days.

Recovering and healing from ptsd involves managing the symptoms and learning good coping mechanisms. I hope that you feel better soon and am glad that you finally got away from R. Best wishes to you.