Don't know how to talk about it.

I really need to talk about years of abuse that my ex put me through. For some reason I've been reliving it a lot lately and I've never talked about it to anyone. Mostly psychological abuse...he never hit me or yelled. Some of what he did, I think, could be considered rape...but I've never thought of it that way because there was no screaming, no fighting, no reporting it...and I convinced myself he loved me. I don't know how to talk about it or if I even can here. I don't know what to say or if it will help. I can't stop thinking about it.

You might try writing it all down....talking about it will help. My ex abused me for 31 years. The Verbally Abusive Relationship by Patricia Evans saved my life. No one that loves you will abuse you. I hope you will continue to share here. xo

Hi Rayne

Well I'd say that you've made a great start by sharing as much as you have here with us, so kudos
And talking about situations like you have gone through for the first time can be incredibly hard to begin with, just finding a way to get the words out, so I'd say to try and relieve that pressure on yourself a little, just go at your own pace
Maybe take one experience to go into just a little detail on, maybe start by sharing a little of your experience with someone else on a thread who is going through/has gone through a similar situation.
There are a lot of people who find that "just" feeling understood and not judged can help a lot, and there are a lot of understanding people on here.
So just in your own time.............you didn't deserve what happened to you and you don't deserve to be locked in with it on your own..........you deserve support..........so whenever you're ready to talk even "just" a little, it's here for you

Alison

Rayne,

I was in an abusive relationship for a year and a half and it took me a year to tell anyone. I want you to know that your not alone. It will take time but you will get through this.

It's been two years since the relationship ended, and I thought that I was over all of it. But as I learned more, as I connected with other women (I had zero friends while dating him) I started to realize how much had happened to me. He dumped me in January of 2015, and the past couple of months have, for some reason, caused the things that happened to become really intrusive in my thoughts, dreams, and life...which I really don't understand. I'm with a guy who I care about, we've moved out of state together, and the relationship couldn't be more different than the one that I was in. I'm happy, and yet I'm not.
I did write about it in a journal, but I feel like I need to talk to a real person. I don't feel like I can really talk about it with my family, and even though I've sort of talked about it with my best friend, I'm having a hard time communicating how deeply this is hurting me right now. I can't understand why it's bothering me so much. It wasn't violent, it's over, I really don't understand.
Anyway, I'm going to write about it here, if that's okay. I don't want to trigger anybody...and it might be kind of long, nobody has to read it. Somehow it's cathartic to me to put my problems/fears/experiences somewhere out there, away from me. Anyways.

We started dating when I was seventeen. I remember I didn't really like him too terribly much, and I didn't find him very attractive, but nobody else liked me and he pursued me more avidly than any guy had ever done before. I had had one date with a guy in high school, but, unbeknownst to me, his ex got angry about that, spread a lie that I was a huge slut with STDs or whatever, and no guy in my high school would get anywhere near me. I figured they all just thought I was weird. Anyway, he was a year older and went to a different school. It started with him texting me every day, then after a few weeks he showed up to my work on V-Day and brought a ridiculous amount of gifts (his propensity for outrageous gift-giving has completely ruined V-Day [can't even write it out], anniversaries, birthdays, and Christmas for me with guys. I HATE getting flowers and chocolates, and I never want to see another diamond again.) We started "officially" dating. At the time, I was a conservative Christian. More on that later. After we had dated a week, he asked me to come over and hang out. I was naïve, so I did. I ended up alone with him. Of course it progressed further than I wanted it to. I was shocked, I was uncomfortable, and he just kept saying, "Come on, you'll like it." In my mind, I had brought myself here, so it wasn't his fault, I mean, what did I think would happen? After he made it to "third base" I cut him off, majorly uncomfortable, lying and saying I was hungry and needed to go home. Over time, he kept pushing me further. It was so long ago, I don't remember why I let it continue. I wanted him to like me? I didn't feel abused? It was my own fault? I don't know. And I felt guilty and worthless and couldn't look my mother in the eye for months. He encouraged these feelings in subtle ways, convincing me that because I had already gone so far, nothing else could hurt. I wouldn't have intercourse with him. I absolutely wouldn't. In this way, I convinced myself that I was in control, that this was my choice. There was once that he acted incredulous that I had never drank alcohol before. He happened to have a bottle of whiskey handy, and dared me to try some. I was curious (and naïve) so I did. I laughed and said I couldn't feel it. So he gave me more. And I woke up five hours later, remembering nothing. He told me a story about how I was a "lightweight" and just passed out. I utterly believed him. Again, naïve...willing to do anything to make excuses for him...I don't know. It's something I never thought much of because I conditioned myself to trust him about everything.

Almost a year after we were dating, he took my virginity (I still believed I was a virgin, even after the episode with the alcohol). I say took, because we were making out, and suddenly he just pinned me and did it. It was over so fast I couldn't process all the emotions that just crashed down on me. I completely froze. I had a bruise on my chest from his arm. I burst into tears and he hugged me, rubbed my back, seemed so perfectly concerned with the anguish I couldn't explain. He told me he was sorry, he thought I wanted it, he thought it was time, and he said "at least it's over with now." That's how much it was worth to him... About eight weeks later, I found out I was pregnant. He told me abortion was the only option. I cried and cried, because I didn't believe in abortion. Then, I had a miscarriage. I can't even explain how that felt...it wasn't anything yet, a tiny pink blob, nothing identifiable as a baby, but it crushed me. I felt that God had seen all of my sins and was condemning me as unfit to be a mother. I panicked and thought maybe I could never have children. I never saw a doctor, and I never spoke of it to anyone but to him. He responded, "Good, saves me a few hundred bucks." I stayed silent. And I stayed with him for another three years. I thought about leaving him so many times, and I always became overwhelmed with a panic I can't explain. I felt that I couldn't possibly live my life without him. He spent so much time telling me who I was, what I was, what I was capable of (more often, what I wasn't capable of) and for some unknown ******* reason, I believed him. I went through the worst depression of my life, and a complete identity crisis, because I couldn't reconcile who I had become and the things I had done with my belief in the Christian God. The relationship literally ripped me apart.

I used to be a girl who believed in fairy-tale romance, who wanted a house with a man she loved and lots of happy babies and church on Sundays. Now I'm a proud atheist, feminist, openly bisexual individual who is terrified of true commitment, completely wary of marriage, and I'm determined to live my life for me: nobody will ever control me that way ever again. I am okay with just myself now, and that's how I can be in a healthy relationship: I don't need him to feel like I'm worth something. I'm satisfied with who I am.

What I can't get over and can't figure out is the ANGER and the HURT that are still pulsing through me. I feel such a fiery hatred for the guy who made me feel worthless. He used me until I was completely broken and then threw me out like trash (he dumped me over the phone on a random Tuesday after we had been together for four years, and that was it. No fights or anything leading up to it. Just...bam. I've used you for all you're worth. Best thing that ever happened to me.) I don't want to waste energy hating someone that I never plan to see again. I don't want to have dreams remembering what he did and how I felt. I don't want to come up with secret plots to kill him (just kidding...sort of). I just want to move past it and be happy. How do I do that?