Unimaginable Pain

The hurt that comes from abuse is unimaginable until you experience it. And it’s not just something you feel on the surface, but deep within, ripping apart any relationship to threads. When you’re abused by a person you love, the world comes crashing down, and everything just sinks. Abuse in any form should not be tolerated; I slowly learnt this within my troubled marriage. I not only received bruises on my body, but wounds on my heart and scars on my mind.

In the middle of it all, I wrote a poem to process the pain and loss.

I miss those courtship days

Those hours of chatting

Loving each other

Fighting over little things

Late night talks, sharing secrets

Weird dreams, being possessive

Attitudes, waiting for your calls

Watching your pics and texts over and over

Smiling for no reason, trusting you blindly

Your hugs and kisses, your innocent wishes!

And now just being in this marriage, having a blank inbox,

No calls, no more I love yous

Black-outs, hurt and bruises, abuses and aches

Hours of loneliness, unshared emotions

Late night cries, heartbreaking secrets

Shocking betrayal, shattered dreams

Deleted memories, fake smiles

Broken trust, devious heartaches —

I don't know why I got so attached to you!

Every time he fought with me, I engaged in a high level of emotional distress — I lost control. In doing so, I gave him the power he needed to hurt me. During a conflict, if he showed any consideration for my feelings, I trusted him. I believed him. But really, he was only taking me for granted due to incompatibility issues arising from his Hindu family’s interferences, his alcoholism, and his ruthlessness. In truth, he almost treated me like a slave.

Alcohol got the worst of him. When he was drunk, he lost his reasoning power and his emotions — it was during these times when he was most physically abusive. As twisted as it may sound, at the time, I thought that he hurt me more than I deserved, maybe because I loved him more than he deserved.

My daughter grew up telling me, 'Mamma, I’m sometimes scared that Daddy will hit me just like he hits you.'”

I loved him so blindly, hiding his true character from my family and friends for years. I lost my identity and my virtue and my respect in my marriage. I was hopeless and scorned. I was rejected by him in every way you could imagine, internally and physically. It was like I became nothing but an old piece of furniture to him — one he wanted to do away with.

He didn’t realise that every time he physically abused me, he crushed to bits all the love and respect I had once had for him. If only he could have done the honest and humane thing and divorced me on the grounds of incompatibility. But he didn’t; he cared about his ego too much. I stayed with him because I was torn between not giving up on the person I loved and coming to terms with the fact that the person I loved no longer existed.

To my shock, he found another woman while still being in the marriage. I suspected the affair, but he denied it for over a year. Still, he would use me and abuse me whenever he wanted to. I was devastated — I became crazy, I barely slept or ate. I hardly even talked to him or to other people. Gradually, I was going into mental trauma.

All this happened in front of my daughter. She still speaks about how “Daddy pushed Mamma and locked her up in the bathroom.” My daughter grew up telling me, “Mamma, I’m sometimes scared that Daddy will hit me just like he hits you.”

I was enduring the violence for my little one’s sake. I wanted to stay in the relationship so my daughter wouldn’t have to see separated parents, but the environment got too toxic for her to live a normal life.

Over the years, as he physically dented every corner of me, he would tell me that he was done with me and that he wanted me to die. I lost my everything when he said that — so much so that I attempted to end my life in front of his eyes. I took an overdose of the morphine-based painkillers I used for back pain.

This was a turning point in my life; it was painful and horrific, as I ended up still alive in the ICU, grasping for breath. I felt miserable and hopeless, and I just wanted to die. My parents held on to me, giving me the support and strength I so badly needed to recuperate for good. I had already been battling partial depression for a year and was on antidepressants. I prayed to God on my hospital bed, asking forgiveness for trying to end my precious life because of a dead and violent relationship. I cried my heart out. Upon being discharged, I felt I was not the same weak woman I used to be.

I realised my inner strength, that my suffering had made me so strong that nothing could beat me anymore. I wanted to be free of my miserable bondage — from the hopeless relationship I was living in after several years of marriage. I wanted to be an independent woman who didn’t need a man. Finally, I started giving up on my violent relationship. I had my flaws and that was OK. But I didn’t want to be taken for granted and abused anymore. I no longer wanted to share the same roof with the man who had brought me to the point of nothingness.

He lost all his power over me.

I became stronger with each passing moment. Prayers and guidance led to perseverance, giving myself a meaningful life to live with my child. When he started fights, I was able to stay in control. In turn, he lost all his power over me. When I finally realised I wasn’t married to be abused and used, and that I’d rather be a single mom than show my child an abusive marriage, all my misery ebbed away. I survived something like hell and came out of it shining stronger to begin a new life.

I knew I needed to move on and so I worked towards it. I had cried my heart out, but once I was done, I resolved never to cry over the same weaknesses again. Today, I smile from my heart, because I have survived. I was knocked down, but I got back up, stronger and determined.

No woman should experience physical abuse. But if you have, you’re not alone, and you’re not weak. You are strong enough to move on and look for help and guidance. One of our online mentors would love to walk alongside you on your journey. Please leave your contact information below, and we’ll get in touch with you soon.

Author's Name changed for privacy.
Photo Credit Nadja Tatar

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