Story of Jessica H.
It all began the summer after my Freshman year. I was in, what I seemed to think, was a pretty healthy and stable relationship, however, it would appear I was in the wrong. After 7 months of being with someone, you'd think you would know them... and you most of the time do. Not everyone is like this. It all began as him being controlling, determining what I should be doing with my time and where I should be. Eventually though, it developed into a place where I was powerless. The worst part of it all? I had no idea.
He began to overpower me. Emotionally. Mentally. Physically. I had no control over myself or the relationship, and in my eyes, I had no way out of it either. He had convinced me to believe that all if it was happening because I deserved it, it was my fault. I was manipulated and torn between trying to find a way out and allowing him to continue to do this to me, in hopes that maybe one day, I'd perhaps just get used to it... that I'd maybe even enjoy it like he seemed to. That one day I would accept the fact I did something to deserve this and it would all make sense. It seemed to all make some kind of sense to him, despite how illogical this entire thing was. I mean, where is the logic behind controlling someone; hitting and screaming, pushing and raping a girl? There is none. But there is logic in justice, in safety, security, and freedom.
I kept it all to myself for almost a year and a half, silence was the only thing that seemed to make sense for me. I moved to a different school, hours away from him and was able to break up with him... 3 and a half months after the abuse really began. It began to control my life even after we broke up and I couldn't handle even myself to some extents. I secluded myself and kept myself closed up, no one really knew who I was at my new school. To them, I was just like anyone else, nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened in my life.
Months passed by and people noticed that in certain social situations, I reacted much differently than most. I was anxious in large groups and I hated to be alone with a guy, despised it really. The abuse I had experienced began to control my entire life. Everything I had ever known was no longer the same and to me, it never would be.
Finally though, people began to ask questions, pry for more information than I was really ready to give but I didn't have much of an option anymore. It was time. It's been 6 months since I first mentioned it to anyone and since then, I've become to realize so many things. It was never my fault, it never will be. I was the victim of the situation. Everything I experienced caused the long term affects that I had and will likely cause more in the future if I don't continue to talk about what happened and how it made and makes me feel still to this day. It's a controlling thing, but it doesn't have to control you.
He began to overpower me. Emotionally. Mentally. Physically. I had no control over myself or the relationship, and in my eyes, I had no way out of it either. He had convinced me to believe that all if it was happening because I deserved it, it was my fault. I was manipulated and torn between trying to find a way out and allowing him to continue to do this to me, in hopes that maybe one day, I'd perhaps just get used to it... that I'd maybe even enjoy it like he seemed to. That one day I would accept the fact I did something to deserve this and it would all make sense. It seemed to all make some kind of sense to him, despite how illogical this entire thing was. I mean, where is the logic behind controlling someone; hitting and screaming, pushing and raping a girl? There is none. But there is logic in justice, in safety, security, and freedom.
I kept it all to myself for almost a year and a half, silence was the only thing that seemed to make sense for me. I moved to a different school, hours away from him and was able to break up with him... 3 and a half months after the abuse really began. It began to control my life even after we broke up and I couldn't handle even myself to some extents. I secluded myself and kept myself closed up, no one really knew who I was at my new school. To them, I was just like anyone else, nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened in my life.
Months passed by and people noticed that in certain social situations, I reacted much differently than most. I was anxious in large groups and I hated to be alone with a guy, despised it really. The abuse I had experienced began to control my entire life. Everything I had ever known was no longer the same and to me, it never would be.
Finally though, people began to ask questions, pry for more information than I was really ready to give but I didn't have much of an option anymore. It was time. It's been 6 months since I first mentioned it to anyone and since then, I've become to realize so many things. It was never my fault, it never will be. I was the victim of the situation. Everything I experienced caused the long term affects that I had and will likely cause more in the future if I don't continue to talk about what happened and how it made and makes me feel still to this day. It's a controlling thing, but it doesn't have to control you.