anonymous story 5

I was cut off from my religious family so I was really isolated when I moved to Australia and had been abused in my family before. At the time I wasn't aware that I was gravitating to the same kind of people because feeling worthless was my base state. I then met an Australian guy and when my house mate disappeared to the Philippines, he moved in to help with rent. He had lied about having a job and the money he was using was his inheritance until his mother told me the truth a year later. ( he would hold this over me for years because it's my fault he helped with rent).

My partner didn't work outside of doing lawn mowing jobs here and there so we lived off my income majority of the time. He would fly into rages and refused to leave me alone. I'd be getting dressed from the shower and he'd grope me, then would laugh when I'd beg him to stop. He was gifted a car by his parents, he wouldn't let me drive, wouldn't let me make new friendships because he'd insisted on tagging along. I'd come back from work and he'd demand sex everytime and when I'd refuse he'd fly into a rage and berate me until I gave in. It got to the point where I would just switch off, pull my pants down, lie on the bed and just let him do it because the punches and rages were getting too much when I would refuse.

The moment I realised he would kill me was when he was at the local pub and had been there all day. I'd visited HIS friend who had just had a baby. I met up with him after and a group of guys he was chatting with asked us BOTH if we wanted to hang. Now bear in mind, my ex was funny, charming and loads of fun when he was "on", so no one knew.

He said we have to just walk back to our houses to change which was just through the school park, and half way through the walk he switched up on me and accused me of wanting to "sleep" with one of them. Which is crazy! But when we started dating he had a finance that cheated on him, so I'd always put it down to projection and I had wanted to prove to him over the years that he can be genuinely loved! What an absolute idiot I was. He grabbed at me and I just said "I'm not doing this with you". I started to walk away and he yanked my arm and as I fell down he stepped forward on my left ankle as I went down and the pressure broke it (I didn't know this at the time) and I screamed involuntarily from the pain. He was screaming at me to shut up and get up while I was still on the ground cring in pain. He became even more full of rage and I pulled out my phone to call someone while I was on the ground and he snatched the phone and twisted my left arm behind my back to get the phone away. I started screaming "help" to whoever would hear it. He threw the phone back at me and took off and left me there in a park late at night with a broken leg.

I had to call the same friend with the new baby to come get me and drop me at the house. I was bruised up to my knee and in so much pain and as he was the only one "allowed to drive the car" because of his parents car insurance. He refused to take me to a doctor, gaslighting me that it was a just a sprain and I'd be in more pain "if it was broken". My bosses saw my leg when I tried to come back and refused to let me work until I saw a doctor. My own boss wanted to drive me. When I called him to say I was being taken to the doctor, he once again screamed at me over the phone that a stranger is not to take me, he will (I realise now that he was scared of the cops i guess?) He finally took me and, yes it was broken and I needed a plate and pins. And he made ME comfort him because he "felt so bad" . Long story short, I couldn't work in Australia after surgery and had to live with my Dad in NZ for 6 months until I healed. I'm back in Australia now, and this was going on 6 years ago.

I wish I could warn people about him but he made me look crazy to everyone and even my own brother would say "all stories have two sides". That's how alone I've felt my entire life after enduring this- That I deserved it by staying, by trying to disassociate because the good times were "good" and everyone liked him. I stupidly tried to be a friend to him afterwards so that he didn't "feel bad", which of course does make me seem crazy but it wasn't until I was away from it that I could digest those years.

The embarrassment of being in a relationship like this and people still seeing you as happy go lucky minimises the horrific things he put me through in other people's eyes, because I'm not "broken enough". But I am broken. I've never known real kindness because of the lack of support I received at my worst times. I doubt I ever will.

Thank you for listening.