Written by: Anonymous

It always feels like a punch to my face when I hear or read somewhere that someone could ever create a false story about domestic abuse. The weird thing on the other hand is that a tiny part inside me is glad. I know that this sounds crazy but I am glad that they don't know what it actually is, like kids using make up for fun pretending to be adults.

That's what abuse is. It is a mix of feelings that sometimes don't make sense. You try to make sense, you try to explain it so that you can process it in your brain and move on but it never makes sense, no matter how many stories you read, how many lectures about prevention or help you watch.

Do you remember when we were young and we were told that bad things don't happen to good people? That's a lie and on top of it, it's a dangerous one because once it happens to you, you start blaming yourself in order to make sense. "I am a bad human being and I deserve this." Self-blaming is the first thing that comes to your mind, that someone implants that like a seed and you nourish that idea till it blooms. No victim is to be blamed. Ever. No kind of violence, emotional, physical, sexual is ever justified or should be accepted, not to mention blame the victim.

How do I know that? I used to work with victims. Even before they speak, I can easily recognize them looking to their eyes. They are always looking for an exit in case of emergency, they are never truly relaxed. I call them "the invisible ones". No one else seems to notice them.

One day I got to work with bruises. I worked all day with them being seen and no one asked me anything about them. As if they were invisible. As if I was invisible. The funny thing is that that work of the time included dealing with people that had been assaulted but the unsaid rule is "there is no assault until is officially reported by the victim". I was taking the first step, so there was nothing to be seen.

So actually, that's what domestic abuse is mostly about; silence and blindness. No one cares what happens behind closed doors. We are curious about what clothes a celebrity wore at some other place but we are intimidated to offer a helping hand to someone in need. Once I reached out and talked to someone about it, he answered back "You are too scared to open that door, because you don't know what's kept behind it for you. Once your need for change overcome your fear, your will open it."

I know all the procedures, I know all the patterns, I know everything that most people search for after something like that has happened for them. I knew in advance and yet I was trapped in a situation like that. On the other hand I was lucky because probably that knowledge is what kept me alive.

At some point of my life I got a relationship with a woman. I am a woman as well in a region where this is considered outrageous. That woman was a former celebrity who was broke at the time we met, but thanks to her former status you couldn't tell at first sight. She was gifted, had a charming personality and if she decided to make you a target, you felt as if she has put a spell on you. You just couldn't say no to her. I wasn't rich but I had a good job and made more money than the overage employee. My weakness was that I hardly had any self-confidence despite my accomplishments.

Previously bad relationships, extremely long working hours in a tough environment, almost no time for friendships due to my schedule (it was hard to keep up with their lives outside social media) drove to a personality that was respected for her social status but lonely and deprived of affection.

People who are abusive prey for people like me. I knew it but I fell for it. I got into that relationship where I was in fact paying for attention. At some point, I run out of money but I was too deep in that to run away. She had gaslighting me for months, making me question my own sanity and believe me that is a hard thing to be done, since I am a person who sticks to facts. I started rolling into depression while my only way out seemed to be giving her more money so that she would leave me at peace and not emotionally abuse me. Whenever I gave her money she was her charming self again and it looked like paradise. Whenever I didn't have any money not even for personal needs, I was the worst human being on earth.

At some point, she started blackmailing me that if I ever asked for my money back she would tell everyone that I was a crazy fan and I was pissed off because she rejected me while my career would end because such a relationship is considered unacceptable for me, fancy for her though. Friends started giving up on me, I had to search for new job and that was hard as I went from a place where I worked and got what I wanted to a point where I didn't have the money to get tampons. I had hit rock bottom.

Nevertheless, it didn't seem enough for me to get out of it. I knew I was depressed, miserable, a dark shadow of my former self and people I used to know looked down to me. Some of them just said "If you want to change it, just change it". Easier said than done. Deep inside in believed that old quote. "Bad things don't happen to good people". She has persuaded it that I was a bad person and that was what I deserved in life. I have moved on from low self-esteem to no self-esteem.

Gaslighting, emotional and psychological abuse didn't seem enough till one night. One night that we were together and it seemed that I was on my way to find a new job that paid well so she was nice to me, I made a mistake. I left my social media account open and she got in and made a copy of my private messages to my friends. I was writing that I was unhappy, all that was happening despite what was posted in public. I was exposing her and myself and that made her so furious that she tried to strangle me. Twice.

I got out of there that night because at that moment I was certain that I would die, I didn't fight back. If my instinct had prevailed and hit her, she would have finished the job and I would be dead now. But I gave up, gambling my choice on an advice I had given before to other people. "Don't fight when the other is out of control, it will make him even more violent." I don't know if that would be a good advice in every case but that was the one I chose to make, otherwise only one of us would get out of there alive.

She gave up the first time since she perceived that as not a challenge worthy. She left the room and a few moments later she came back and tried once more. I gave up again and that made her furious and she left me for good. In her twisted mind at that moment I was proving that I was nobel and she was a bad person attacking someone so she stopped yelling that I was such a bad person that I had made her become like me and attack her so that I would prove her that she was worthless but she understood that on time because in fact she was better than me. I didn't care at that moment why she stopped or why I had to listen once more why I was such a horrible person. I was alive.

I couldn't leave with a fight. She wouldn't let me. So I started convincing her that there was no way I could make any money again for me or for her. I was too depressed, too much of a failure to go back to my former status. So slowly she started stepping away from me, giving me space and air to breathe. The more useless I seemed to her, the safer I was.

Of course, I didn't report the incident either. I was too afraid to do that, I was broke and I had no back up environment to stand up by me. I know that she will keep doing that to other women, since people don't change but I was selfish. I had to get my shit together and build my life from scratches. I was a survivor not a hero.

I developed several health problems because of that and the tricky thing is that whenever I was telling people that I was sick they were telling me that it was because of my depression. The truth was that all that stress made me loose almost of my weight and people thought that it was bulimia. Once I decided to do the physical exams I was misdiagnosed at first. They told me that I had cancer and a bad one. I did more tests and then it was revealed that I had Crohn's disease an autoimmune disease. I had mild symptoms before but I tough that it was because of work's stress. Experiencing all that stress it was like fire on gasoline. One more funny thing is that although autoimmune diseases are triggered by stress, the best advice they can give you is "You shouldn't stress that much". Thank you, people,! I am a walking mess and it's not a switch to turn in on and off.

I know that this is not a story with a clear, definite beginning and ending, with intriguing plot line but abuse is never a straight line. Is like forcing a cat into a bag and keep it there. Is every story the same? They may seem similar, low self-esteem, invisible people, people who take advantage of other's weaknesses in order to make up for their own problems. Do I think that LGBT people are bad because of my experience? Definitely not. Anyone can be abusive and anyone can be a victim. Anyone.

Am I better person because of my experience? Nope. I survived that and it takes me years to heal. I didn't have any relationship after that and I gave up on the idea of ever trust a sexual partner again. You leave something bad beside you but the marks are always there. It's not like, ok I had some bad vacations over there, let's try something new this time. It shapes your personality, your trust in people, your willingness to take chances.

I know that some people may think now "why don't you try psychotherapy". Believe me I know what a therapist would tell me. I have said all those words to other people. It's like an amputation. You may have a phantom limb pain but you will never grow another limb again.

So there is nothing fancy about domestic abuse. It's nothing like a thriller you watch and then you turn off your tv and you just go on your life. There is nothing fancy about bad boys and girls that live their time to the fullest and we forgive them because they are beautiful and we read their storied covered with our blanker holding a cup of hot chocolate. If I could ask you for something is not to take my words as a message to what you can do in a similar situation; all that I can say is reach out for help from your friends and family. All I want to ask you is one simple thing... make those people like me visible. Whenever you see someone like me, offer your hand, your ear, your time, your help.

Why?

Because when you are invisible you feel hopeless and that's the most dangerous feeling of all.