I need help.
I think I'm at the verge of committing something I don't want to do to my self.
I have been meaning to write something here, if only to get things off my chest.
But I have been stopping myself.
Now's the time.
I grew up in a house full of people swearing at me, doors slamming at my face.
Given what the environment was like when I was growing up, I am the type of person that swears A LOT in a regular conversation, but NEVER does, when I am mad.
Because i believe that it'll be pure hatred, if I say those words when I am mad.
I have been living with my partner for 4 years now, have been blessed with a wonderful son who's a year old now.
Times of bliss sure are at the early stage of each relationships, cause we have had ours.
Don't get me wrong, he's a very patient guy. He sees to my needs when we still have no kid, and still tends to our needs now. I know all relationships have its ups and down, wouldn't even be a relationship if it doesn't.
But when he gets mad, verbal abuse comes out.
He would swear at me, and sometimes calls me names.
I felt belittled every time he does that, or slams the door shut at me.
And it just hurts so much that someone you love so dear would do things to you - things you have been wishing you won't get to experience again with the man you chose to be with.
The physical abuse started at the 2nd year of our relationship, give or take.
It started with slaps, tearing - literally - my hair off my scalp, crumpling my ears like he's crumpling papers in his hands, escalated to him choking me.
All these, and I am still with him.
Oh I have been wanting and wishing and praying and crying to get away from this hellhole - yes I see it as a hellhole now.
I was ready to move in with my parents again, it was my ticket out of here, when he talked to my parents and told them why we fought.
And my parents thought I was just getting bitchy, my dad went here, I got a slap on the face.
Never had I told them how physically abusive he can be, save for that one time my dad was here.
But he wanted me and my partner to give it another try.
That night, we fought.
I got beat up.
I told him not hurt our son, he said "I won't hurt (my son's name), I will only hurt you."
Something in me just gave up.
I was nodding, giving him the permission to continue choking me.
I didn't even fight anymore, my will just gave up.
In my mind - at that moment - I was peacefully telling him I love him, and that I forgive him and that I won't hold him responsible for my soon-to-be death.
I was at peace with the thought of him ending everything for me.
That was when he stopped and started taking me into his arms, apologizing.
We had a talk, he wanted to start a fresh.
I didn't want to, but knowing I have nowhere to go to, I agreed.
Yes, I used him. In a sense that I chose to stay to have a roof over my head - until I get myself a work again.
Nov 6, everything just dramatically escalated.
We fought, he hit me with his knee on my private area, gave a good slit on my mouth for a lil punch, hit the side of my head with my son's bottle, clammed me on the floor, arm-choked me.
Elbowed me on the forehead.
And boy was I fighting.
I was fighting so much I didn't even feel the blood surging from my split opened left brow.
When I finally came to sense that I was bleeding, he was already hugging me.
I went to his aunt's place, his sister treated me, and I went back to our place like nothing happened.
Am I so delusional to WISH that every time me and my partner fight, I wish we could just fight normally and not hurt each other?
It's been more than two weeks now, no apologies, no talks, no nothing from him.
1st day after the fight, he brought me no food.
2nd day and days after, I only eat once a day, because that's just what he brings me.
He hasn't slept here in our room, since that day.
He sleeps in another room.
I haven't cried since the day it happened.
But today, I just had to break down, and I have been crying since morning.
He washed his and our son's clothes and leaves mine.
I pity myself so much right this moment, that I know he might not want me here anymore, but I don't have the means to leave nor have the will to do so.
Every time I think of crashing at a friend's place, I feel so weak thinking I'd be leaving my son.
No money. No place to stay.
And no son to be with?
I fell asleep beside my son.
And I woke up with him sitting beside me, looking at, I don't know me or my son, but that was the first time we were that close since two weeks ago.
I'm so confused.
I know I'm letting my pride get the best of me but I really want to leave.
I want him to realize that it's not ok to hurt me and be fine with it afterwards.
And that I don't like hurting him.
I don't like hitting him back.
I feel like I kill myself whenever I hit him back, but I have to show him he can't keep doing that.
I don't know who I have become anymore.
My friends are telling me I have changed.
I used to not tolerate any kind of s*** a guy throws at me.
I used to not swear when I am mad but now all I do is swear at whomever I am mad at.
I used to just take the beatings and not hit back, but now I feel the need to do so, if only to wake him up that he's hurting me.
And it's either I get killed here, or I kill my self if I get the money to buy drugs to OD.
But then again, maybe it's me.
Maybe I really am to blame and I deserve to be physically abused to remind me of it.
I don't know who I am anymore.
I don't know who I have become.
And I am so sorry for making this so long.
I needed a way to release all these.
