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If I had to sketch it out, my relationship with him would probably look like a tightly drawn squiggle. I was often dreading the good days, because they were usually followed by a “bad phase.” A bad phase simply meant him being annoyed with how I take his love for granted, how I don’t understand the pressures he’s under, how unstable I am for trying to leave him and go. The guilt trips were many, the grief, unbearable.
Sometimes I would try to sneak out of the apartment before he woke up so that he wouldn’t find out I left. Unfortunately, he always found out, and I had to bear the brunt of my disloyalty later on. He abuses me both physically and emotionally. An incident happened sometimes ago, he flung a coffee jar towards me. It shattered into countless pieces, and while I mopped the entire floor – once, twice, thrice – sobbing, trying to get the appalling fragrance of coffee out of the apartment, he slept on, peacefully, as if nothing had happened.
The next morning, he did not seem to remember events from the night before (like always), and I chose not to remind him, for the fear of triggering anger in him again. The evidence however, was right there – his extreme stoicism the morning after, and the numerous cuts on my knees and hands from the tiny glass shards.
His mood is consistently bad. Soon the bad phases followed everything. A quiet giggle maybe, if he was sleeping. The way I smiled. One word I used. If I talked to a particular co-worker for longer than he permitted I will be in total soup. If I used the phone in his presence it is another war, if my phone rings and it happened to be a guy calling then that day I am doomed, if I kept him waiting, if I said no to staying overnight at his place then he thinks I am hiding something from him and we start a new fight.
He perpetrating “abuse” towards me, calls me names of all sort, rain curses on me, since he would quite often spoil me with love and apologize after the scenario (that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t do it again). I always assumed he had a lot of stress and this was just him venting it out. It is never easy to come to terms with the fact that someone you love so passionately would inflict abuse on you like this. He assured me many times that he’d improve, that he’ll never get so violent or aggressive, that he needs that “one last chance,” after every tiff we have.
I was conditioned to believe that anything I did without his approval was wrong and caused him immense pain, for which, I was liable to handle his outbursts and face punishments. His “love” seemed to “win” every time he humiliated me and held me responsible for the cracks in his fragile ego.
Now that I finally decided and have the courage to leave him, he was verbally abusive. He threatened to kill me then kill himself afterwards. He called me an unappreciative jerk who failed to acknowledge how he’d gone out of his way to protect me from he harsh world. I am so confused on this path, I don’t know if this is how love feels, I really want to be out of this deadly relationship but I don’t want to die. I have been taking all the sh*t for 2years now. I want to have control over my life, I want my freedom back, I am enslaved. Please advice me I have been keeping this to myself for long enough, I don”t know who to talk to, I don’t know who to turn to, I want out. Please I really need your advice.Thanks