To The One Who Broke Me

When I was fifteen, I was so thin and so happy with life. Little did I know, when I said yes to being your girlfriend that was all going to change.

It started slowly, the drinking. We were only seventeen when it began. At first, you were just annoying when you drank. Like most people when they drank.

I was so in love with you. You tried so hard to win my heart. I thought you were different. I thought you weren’t like the rest of the guys. I came from a broken home and truly believed men were liars. But here you were, proving me wrong.

As the drinking progressed, so did the anger. The first time you called me a bitch- I was shocked. I could not believe you would say that to me. The first time you pushed me- I was shocked. I went home telling my mom, my best friend, I could not believe what you just did. You began to test the waters. See how far you could hurt me without me leaving you.

But you convinced me. You convinced me I was all the horrible things you said I was. Maybe that is why I could not walk away. Or maybe it was because when you sobered up you would tell me you loved me.  And I needed that love. Because I did not have it for myself. I stuffed my face every night out of anxiety and stress you caused.

But the verbal abuse slowly turned physical. So slow that the first time I had a bruise on my stomach I wondered how it came to this. And one night you got so drunk. It was nothing unusual, you being drunk. But this time, you were angry, very angry. When you were drinking, you would get mad in the snap of a finger. That night I honestly do not know what set you off.

You screamed and demanded your keys from me so you could leave.  At only 18 years old, I was not going to let my boyfriend drive shit faced. I was not going to put his and others lives in danger. So I ignored your screaming and demands and sat down on the computer chair. I remembering you approaching, gabbing the bottom of the chair, and ripping it out from under me. I landed on my back and it hurt. It hurt my tail bone really fucking bad. In the split second before you flipped it, I remember your face like it was paused on the TV. You had a blank expression and cold eyes. It was scary. That image of your face will forever haunt my mind. That fight was enough to keep me from talking to you- for two weeks.

Now I was not a fool to get back with you. You were very charming, apologetic, and convincing. Yet again, at 19 years old, you were there trying to win my heart. For a month, you were so sweet, caring, kind, and loving. The best part is you barely drank. Until one night, you got so drunk. So fucking drunk. You told me how ugly I was, how I am retarded, how I have fat fingers, to get the fuck out of your house, that you are done with me, etc. I was so hurt and confused. Those words that you angrily slurred to me, “I’m done with you.” Those words hit me harder than I will ever admit. Even the next day, you sobered up, and you still didn’t love me anymore. I begged you to stay with me. I pleaded. Why? How does one simply fall out of love in one night?

A month later you called me up, missing me. So I hung out with you. You told me you are going to the military. Yeah fucking right. You told me you did not want to get back together because when you deploy you do not want any ties here. However, you promised me I was the only one you would talk to until you left. After two weeks of this ‘friends’ bullshit, a girl called you while you slept. I remember snooping through your phone. What I found made me sick. Sick to my fucking stomach. You were snap chatting so many different girls, lying to me about so many things. I was so distraught, so hurt. You might have been an alcoholic, mean, abusive. But this time, this time you were a fucking liar- everything you claimed not to be.

A physical fight later I was sitting in the pouring rain with two broken ribs waiting for my mom to pick me up at two in the morning. I was numb. In that moment, I was completely broken. I understood why people killed themselves. I didn’t mind dying. I wanted to die. I gained 80 pounds from all the stress eating I did when I was with you. I failed two classes because I would stay home and cry (because of you) rather than go to class. I could no longer trust anyone. If one can say all the things you did and turn out to be everything they said they hated, how can I ever trust someone again? And that fucking whole. The whole I felt in my stomach was worse than any physical pain. It was so big and so painful. I felt completely broken.

You, my ex, are a disgusting person. What you did to me was beyond awful. I do not believe in hell, but since you do, I can guarantee that is were you are going. I pray for your future girlfriends. I slightly feel sorry for your sad life. But that is because I am to fucking nice.

If anyone is suffering from abuse, please get out before it is to late.
If I did not leave him when I did, I could have ended up dead. 
Please reach out for help. Coming from me, I promise you there is hope. 
After I finally got away, I have goals again. I have hope again. 
I am happy again.

20 thoughts on “To The One Who Broke Me

  1. alslaff says:

    Julia, sorry for the delay in getting here to thank you for your follow on Shift Key. If you read About Me you know I have a horrific child abuse background. Nobody deserves abuse in any way, form, type, etc. Period. Some recent posts allude to my EMDR sessions for trauma. EMDR has done wonders! Julia, you deserve the best; and I pray and hope the best for you this year. Any questions? Please contact me to discuss.

  2. Waking The Infinite says:

    Sadly, all of us have penchants for abuse….men and women both. I was in an abusive relationship with a woman who only got physical once. The pain she caused came from her drive to try and destroy the relationships that mattered the most to me (my children) and she succeeded with half of them. I might not have physical marks on me, but the marks from this person will forever haunt me until I learn to forgive her what she did…and what she continues to do. I know by forgiving her, I will be free from the torment she brought into my life. And because I had not recovered, I was drawn like magic to yet another just like her and wondered how was it I had radar for those who will cause me harm? Until we are over it, really over it, it persists.

    I suffered in silence for years, ashamed because as a man I should be able to suck it up, move on, be the strong one.

    But in reading your piece I am reminded of the things all the great psychologists have said: when they say things that hurt you, they are really telling you the deep loathing they have that they can’t admit to themselves that they have for their self. But it’s hard when it’s directed at you. Hang in there; it’s so doable!

  3. bmagpub says:

    Your story is heartbreaking – in that you had to suffer such abuse and loss of confidence. But it is also heartening in that you have escaped and sounds like you are now in a position to recover. All power and strength to you.

  4. lucindalines says:

    God’s love be with you and thank you for sharing this so that others can learn the signs. Good for you for escaping. My mother lived with my father until he died at age 54 and so many times we were afraid he would kill her. You have courage, I pray you will continue to let it help you heal to be the best you that you are. Just being able to write this tells me you are one great young woman!! Go for it!

  5. Holistic Children says:

    Julia, thank you for sharing a slice of your life. It takes courage to be vulnerable and write about our challenges and pain. Through the process you can help others. Keep writing. 🙂


    I am a very gentle and kind man, until I encounter something that I have zero tolerance for. You just described one of those things. Not all males are men. I am ashamed of my own gender. I detest rude behavior and when I hear about it I write about it. When I witness it I get in it to end it ! I admire you courage, I put great value on that. Thank you for following my blog and I am now following you’re blog. Peace, Marshall

  7. paulsonny88 says:

    A powerful but beautiful read.

    I got a lump in my throat on a few occasions!

    You are one of the lucky survivors and you can tell you’ve re-took ownership through your account.

    I wish you the best of luck moving forward in your life.

  8. P.W. Decker says:

    I’m glad you were able to get out of that situation. You are a survivor. Just “getting out alive” is not the same thing. You have taken those experiences and are choosing NOT to let them define you. That is survival, and that is what true strength is.

  9. risinglifeblog says:

    My heart breaks for you. There is healing for the brokenness. It is Jesus. There is justice for the wicked. It is Jesus. There is hope for the desperate. It is Jesus. Please let me know if you would like to find out more about Jesus. I could tell you many times of how He set me free, and still continues to do so. Remember, you ARE loved.

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