Laboring to Love an Abusive Mate: Victim Working Up the Nerve to Leave, Unsuccessful

There is no warning, argument, or fight just before a partner leaves. An emotionally and/or physically abused individual need not do anything more than exit a miserable relationship. What does talking over details solve? What does bringing up every hurtful thing the abusive partner has ever said or done to you really do for your spirit?

There is peace just outside the door. I recall pondering a long time on whether to leave my abusive boyfriend's apartment. I looked over my things that sat on one side of the room, a word processor, clothing, dress shoes, a couple bags and assorted belongings that were better left at my parent's home. There was enough of my stuff I left over between overnight stays to fill the backseat of a car.

All I had to do was just call someone to pick me up, put my things in his/her vehicle and be on my way to FREEDOM!!!  But I didn't--those stupid thoughts showed up. The same ones that for so long convinced me that he would change, that things would get better, he loved me, etc.

My abuser made me feel like there was a chance that we just might one day live at peace with one another. I looked at his things: freshly polished shoes neatly arranged in one corner, a mirror attached to a horizontal, brown dresser with his belongings carefully placed on top as if they were telling me, "Don't touch them."  His beloved black television that became an escape for me when I just couldn't understand why he felt the need to treat me so meanly on some days.

I liked very much that he was gone off to work,  I got a chance to think. What could "we" do to make things better? What did "we" truly want from one another? I was still allowing my mind to say, "We." There was no "we" anything!  Most decisions I made, things I did, and other life events revolved around him!!! I was soooo tempted to pack, to leave my trouble behind, but I didn't.

I stared at the door, it was calling my name. I even walked over, opened it and looked out into the hallway.  From the top of the stairs, looking down there was the main door--my exit.  But I grew fearful, turned around and went back into the room, closed and locked the door.  I remained in the room for hours, the place where we argued much. In that room, he shoved, tripped, and took a pillow over my face...he played with me like a doll when he was in the mood, I let him even when in pain and tears in my eyes, I let him.  In some twisted way, I strangely felt safe in that room. He wasn't there, but he would be back. The thought scared me, he was coming back home.

I adjusted my thinking once again to something positive--the hope that things had got to get better--maybe if I buy...maybe if we go...I don't want anyone else to have him...what if he connects with another woman...is he cheating one me?  I was lost in my mind. I really didn't know what to think anymore.

An exit seemed easy, but I just couldn't manage to get myself to do anything.  Turn on TV. 

What would it take for me to leave? I had a choice in that moment to leave quietly or to leave loudly.

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