Wilting Away: Effects of Abuse

We started our Dear MK journey with self-actualization, where we walked through coming to terms with and freeing ourselves from abusive relationships. Self-actualization is the start of our healing journey but in honor of our April showers theme, we are taking a step back this week. I talk a lot about my healing journey and surviving abuse, but today I’m going back to walk through what it was like enduring that abuse. You’ve gotten to know me at the strongest I’ve ever been, but to truly know my story I want to tell you about when I was hurt, hopeless, and completely unaware of who I was. 

I wish there was a moment in time that I could pick out, but I just started to wither. One day he was my whole life, without that being a choice I ever made. I would just wake up and go through the motions day after day. It felt like instead of being in a relationship, he was doing the relationship to me. I knew I was lonely but I didn’t realize at the time that he was isolating me from everyone else. He told me my friends didn’t like me, that I was a bad person around them, that he was the only one looking out for me. If I ate, I had to eat with him. If I wanted to do something for myself, I was wasting time that I could’ve been spending with him. If I had homework, it wasn’t as important as seeing him. If I did something wrong, it would ruin his life. All of my actions had consequences for him. 

I knew I was unhappy. I knew there were things to fight about. So, we did fight. I stayed up until the middle of the night, sitting in my pajamas in my dorm common room, and forced out my feelings for them to fall on deaf ears. He told me that I was the one hurting him. I didn’t think about how I was making him feel and he just wanted to see me but I was making things difficult and I was acting like I didn’t even want him around. It’s the middle of the night. I’m tired. I hate pretending like we’re not fighting when people pass by to walk to the bathroom. I always give in. I always let him hug me and walk me to my door. I always go to bed upset. 

I started to hate him. He yelled at me in front of my friends. He talked about our relationship with people that were strangers to me. He called me names. Blamed me for everything. He played around too rough. He was mean to my stuffed unicorn. I hated when he was in my bed. I hated when he knocked at my door. I hated the way he wore pajamas and the way he sat in a chair. I hated when he looked at me. I hated when he tried to touch me. I was so pale. My eye bags were so deep. I woke up exhausted every morning. I looked so sad. I was so sad.

I wanted to be done with him, but I didn’t think I had any reason. He convinced me every fight was my fault, everything that hurt my feelings was me overreacting, everything that I thought was wrong, was normal. He warped my reality and ruined my perception of my own life. I couldn’t pinpoint any ‘good reason’ to leave. I started hoping he would hit me, started hoping he would do something to cross the line so badly that I could end it right then and there and never have to explain anything else. I thought just one hit and I could be free. I thought there would never be a time to get out. 

I think back to it, and it's like having an out-of-body experience. I can see myself, but I don't recognize who she is. I see pictures from then and I’m just looking at skin and bones. I’d hate to share my stories with you and try to give you hope every week, without telling you about the times I was hopeless. I’m proud of the woman I am today, but I refuse to ignore the girl that came before me. This kind of trauma changes us, turns us into our worst, makes us unrecognizable, but none of those things last forever. I think that what comes after is actually quite beautiful.