How your life can fall apart as a result of Domestic Abuse

There will be people who judge me after reading this article, but I’m not writing it for them... I’m writing it for anyone who’s been in a similar place so they don’t feel alone, and know there is and was nothing wrong with them.. and I'm writing it for the people who are willing to open their hearts and minds to the reality of abuse

Domestic abuse can devastate and destroy your life.

It’s not just about how the manipulation, control and abuse bring more fear, shame and self-doubt over time... but also how it affects your behaviour and actions, the choices you make, and how the helplessness, fear and shame can leave you as a shell of the person you once were, with your life falling apart at the seams.

So I’m writing this article because this is the stuff that isn’t talked about anywhere near enough. 

My hope in sharing my experiences openly is to shine a light on the reality of abuse, so more people understand it and have more compassion for themselves and each other. 

I thought long and hard before writing this as it’s an incredibly vulnerable and personal, but we need to have these tough and uncomfortable conversations for things to change. 

This is the harsh reality of abuse and a small part of my story...

When I met my ex partner, I was a successful, well educated and intelligent woman. I had a mortgage, nice house and car... I had a well paid full-time job, was respected at work, and was studying for a degree... I had lots of friends, and 3 beautiful children under the age of 5.

For the first time ever in my life, I thought I'd met someone who loved me for the person I truly was. He constantly called and text me, turning up at my house unannounced, because he "cared about me so much". There were things that didn't feel right, but no-one had ever been there for me in that way before, so I pushed them away.

A year later, I went part time at work to help him with his business. I believed he needed my help as the business was failing. It was his dream... and you support the man you love, right? I knew I’d have to scrimp and save by reducing my hours, but thought it would be worth it so we’d be happier and could buy a house together.

His business was soon soaring and turnover increased over 400%. Although life was tough financially, it felt like everything was working out the way he promised.

But things started taking a toll on me mentally and emotionally. He started turning up at work most lunchtimes at work because he was "missing me so much".

I had a puncture one day leaving work and broke down in tears... it was something I didn’t do... I'd been brought up to not show emotion and just get on with things. I was devastated I’d shattered my professional image, and the following morning went to the doctor in floods of tears... I was given antidepressants and signed off work for a month.

That was the beginning of things getting a whole lot worse...

Within months I’d sold my house and gone to work in the business with him full time. He kept making excuses as to why I couldn't take a wage, even though he was. Although it didn't make sense, I didn't question anything because I trusted him... hoping that things would change next week or the week after. But they didn't.

I was around him most of the time, and without me realising, the abuse and my life got a lot worse... while his life kept getting better. The more power he had, the more control he had. He also had a reason for everything, and those reasons made sense... so I just got on with things, hoping things would get better for me too.

6 months later he attacked me for the first time in front of one of his friends. He convinced me it was my fault... and his friend justified his actions.

Just a few months later I lost my children. My family and friends thought I’d become addicted to drugs because I'd become so withdrawn, had awful mood swings and had lost so much weight. They were concerned for my children's safety and emotional health.

I looked awful, and that was the only 'reasonable' explanation anyone was prepared to accept.

The abuse in my relationship at the time was horrific. Everything down to the tiniest detail was being controlled. I couldn't do anything on my own and wasn't allowed any money. He decided what I wore. I was struggling to cope with life and was barely eating.

I was convinced my children were better off without me, that I deserved to suffer, that everything was my fault. Even the court told me that. So I didn’t put up a fight. I was terrified and deeply ashamed. Everyone judged me. And that made me feel even more ashamed.

After I lost my children, I became homeless. For 5 weeks I slept on a dirty, cold workshop floor. This fuelled everyone's opinion of me further.

Life was tough. I had no-one, and truly believed that my partner was the only person who was there for me. The only person who understood. By then I thought everything that was happening was my fault and was ashamed of myself, the person I'd become and my life.

He said he was ashamed of me too, but because he loved me so much he would support me. I felt like I was lucky he was still in my life, and he was the only person who was there.

While my life was spiralling out of control, he was loving life... buying lots of flash expensive things and only occasionally 'allowing' me to stay at his place or giving me money.

He was able to control me more than he ever had before.

He used everything to his advantage and I had become a shell of the person I once was... physically, mentally and emotionally.

I defended everything he did and said to me, desperately trying to convince everyone (and myself) that life was good and I was in control. 

A friend saw what was really going and offered me a sofa to sleep on. I stayed with her for 2 months before selling the few things I had left so I could move into a tiny bedsit.

The day I got the key to that room, I sat on the bed and cried. I cried about not being with my kids. I cried about how it was affecting them. I cried about being so alone. I cried about the person I'd become. I cried about how I'd managed to let all this happen...

In a short space of time, my life had crumbled before my eyes and I’d lost everything... my job, my house, my children, my sanity and my dignity.

His words were always “I didn’t do anything, you made those decisions yourself”... he was right and I couldn't work out how it had all happened. 

I thought all his problems were caused by me. That everything had happened because I was broken and a failure. But the more I tried to make sense of things, the more scared I got, the more irrational my behaviour became... and the worse the abuse got.

At the time I'd been with him nearly 6 years but we still didn’t live together.

I'm not sure how I survived it all.

There were many times where I thought everyone would be better off without me. That I would make their lives easier and happier if I was no longer in this world. I came close to suicide more times than I care to remember. 

But one day, I unexpectedly saw my daughter. My heart ached more than it ever had before.

In that moment everything changed. 

I realised I had a reason to keep living. I knew I had to change things. I knew I was the only person who could do that. I didn't know how, but knew I had to find a way.

The week after, I got a job in a pub, gave up my bedsit and slept in a van for 2 months, going to the swimming pool every morning to have a shower. 

It was February. It was freezing. And it was snowing.

My partner made it as hard as possible for me. I went into work with a black eye one day. I was terrified but I kept on going. My plan was just to try and get through each day.

I knew that by doing what I was doing, I could earn enough to pay for a house. And when I had a house, I might be able to get my kids back. I was scared, but the hope of things changing kept me going.

After I got the keys to a rented house, I slept on the floor for a month so I could buy beds for the kids and a sofa. Then I got my kids back. I didn’t tell him where we lived, and hoped that either one day he’d change, or that somehow things would get better on their own.

But they didn’t. 

In amongst all that grit and determination there was still fear, control and abuse because he was still in my life...

So I went on to do many more irrational things and make many more poor choices as a result. 

I kept him close to my side throughout all this as I felt safer that way... I knew he was dangerous... but by then he was physically abusive every day and I was more scared of what he’d do if I left than I was of what he was doing to me then.

One day he followed me and found out where we lived.

Things got better for a while and I thought there could be a happy ending, but I was terrified of losing my kids again... so I lied about being with him. I hid reality from everyone, and although it looked on the outside like I’d rebuilt my life, the reality was very different.

One night I left my kids asleep in bed, walked out onto the road outside, and crying at the side of the road, tried to find the courage to step out in front of a car and end my pain and suffering, my children’s, and everyone else’s... but I couldn’t (although I didn’t know it at the time, I was having a nervous breakdown).

The next morning, he said something that awakened something in me and I saw everything he was doing for what it really was... but that shift in me led to a viscous attack that left my face and body beaten and broken, and my self-esteem and confidence shattered.

He left me for dead, and all I could think about was my children growing up without a mum... so I called the police, despite him saying he’d kill me if I did... because for the first time ever I knew I that he would, and needed help to stay alive.

For 3 days while he was in custody I didn’t sleep.

I was terrified to stay in the house or to leave it, despite knowing he was locked up in a cell. 

When he was released on bail, with the condition not to contact me directly or indirectly, a friend of his called me “worried about him”... and because I was so terrified I spoke to him. 

He told me that he didn’t want to, but if I didn’t drop the charges he’d have to defend himself.. so would say that my mental health was so bad my kids were in danger... and I’d lose them for good.

There had been times in the past I’d self-harmed as a way to try and cope with the abuse... and he’d used that as a way to cover up abuse before...

So I dropped the charges. 

The police asked if I’d be coerced into doing so, but I was so terrified of what he’d do, I lied. They guessed that and told me “women like me made their jobs harder” and not to go running back to them when it went wrong. 

The people I though would finally protect us made me feel more afraid and ashamed.

I was more terrified than I ever had been before.

There was so much physical evidence that the CPS didn’t drop the case and I received a summons to give evidence in court. 

By now I was in constant contact with him and was terrified of what he’d do. He’d got me a “secret” phone so no one would know about it... I was so scared of people finding out but was more scared of him and what he’d do now I’d called the police.

So I continued to hide the reality of what I was going through, lied to everyone, and got lost in the confusion of what was real and what was a lie.

My support worker from women’s aid was brilliant... but after I dropped the charges she too asked me if I was contact with him... I was so scared to tell the truth and nearly did... but then I saw the judgement in here eyes... so I lied to her about how I really felt and what was really happening all the time after that. 

From that moment on I was completely alone with my thoughts and feelings and unsurprisingly, things spiralled out of control again. 

I was speaking to and seeing him in secret all the time, flipping between feeling terrified of what he’d do, and the hope of things getting better and changing.

I didn’t dare think about what would happen if I had to give evidence in court, all the lies came out, everything unravelling and him being acquitted. 

I did more to make that happen than I did to avoid it. I think the thing I was most scared of was that he was right... and that I was to blame, I did deserve it, and everything was my fault.

Thankfully he lost his temper at his solicitor in the court waiting area before his trial and was advised to plead guilty to avoid a custodial sentence.

2 weeks later I moved 200 miles away with my children to a place I’d never been before and didn’t know anyone.

I lied to everyone as to why we were moving... I was terrified of the judgement and felt deeply ashamed of everything that had happened... but I knew we had to get away to stay alive.

For a while, having more space from him allowed me to breathe again... but the pressure to keep in contact with him on the secret phone took its toll. I was terrified of him and felt I had to keep him happy to stay safe. 

A few weeks later he found us and turned up at our new house. I honestly didn’t think he’d drive for 3 hours to find us. Not knowing what I was doing and barely speaking to me, made him desperate to regain control in any way he could. 

I called the police and they helped me see how dangerous the situation was... they realised I was still in contact with him despite a non molestation order... but their compassion also helped me see that I had to cut all ties with him or they wouldn’t be able to keep me safe. 

Despite being scared, I made the right choice... but I made it because they showed me compassion, not judgement. 

And that choice, as well as having the space away from him, led to me making other good choices and taking small steps forward every day. 

There were still times that I didn’t make the best choices, but because I was physically safer than I’d been for a long time, I kept moving forward. 

We so often judge people for the choices and decisions they make...

But unless we have walked in their shoes it’s almost impossible to understand the lengths people will go to to try and avoid danger, pain and suffering. Most of the time, the choices they make from that place bring more of the same. 

When we understand that, and understand why they make the choices they do, then we can show them more compassion... and when we do, that’s when they can slowly start making better choices and their lives can get better.

When people are scared they say and do irrational things, have poor judgement and make poor choices. They can't think clearly or rationally because all their body is concerned with is ensuring survival.

No-one has the right to judge or belittle others for the things they needed to do to survive.

When we show people compassion, we help them grow compassion for themselves and find the courage they need to rebuild and repair their lives.