First of all,

Let me start my story off by saying this article has empowered me by telling my story and in hopes, it will empower you too.

When I was 17 I was experiencing a lot of depression and anxiety. I would say that's when I recognized I had mental health problems. Since then, I had been in and out of different therapist offices. I was 24 when I finally went to a psychologist and got diagnosed with bipolar and high functioning anxiety. I had periods of manic highs; where I would work out, hangout with friends, and cleaned everything I could. But, I had periods of manic lows; where I wouldn't leave my bedroom unless I had to work and I went days without a shower. Going through ups and downs was so exhausting mentally and physically. My psychologist prescribed me daily medications and I was feeling great! A few months later, I met my first boyfriend.

You hear a lot lately about domestic abuse and you listen to these crazy stories or read an article about a woman beaten to a pulp. Sometimes I think we forget a lot about the mental abuse that goes in lieu of physical abuse. It's awful and you sit there and think "I would never let a man raise his hands on me or "I would never let him talk to me like that" etc. And trust me, I said those same things to myself every time I heard or read about any kind of domestic abuse. I told myself that I was strong and my mother and father raised someone who would never take sh*t from anyone. Until it did and it broke me and shattered me....HE shattered me.

I had flings in the past before meeting him, I just never actually had a "girlfriend" title or being able to call someone my "boyfriend". In the beginning he was great. We went hiking, to the zoo, out at bars, we were always somewhere. The first red flag I should've notice right away was that he didn't really like my dogs (even though he claimed he did). He told me he wasn't much of a dog person because he never had one growing up. I understood that and wanted to give him some time opening up to my 2 fur babies. I would tell him all the time how much they mean to me. The second red flag should've been that he didn't have a license due to multiple DUI charges he was paying off. But, I'm understanding and wanted him to know I wasn't going to judge him for mistakes in the past. I quickly realized he had no independence to him because of no car. I lived an hour away at the time and I was always going to his house or I was driving him to mine. At the time, I liked how much he needed me. I moved into his house that his roommate owned 2 months in (I know very fast). Lots of drugs and unspeakable things happened in his roommates room. I ignored them because this was only going to be temporary until we found a place for us to live. At first living together was so much fun! The dogs had an awesome fenced in front and back yard to play in and we made that dirty house livable for us. Signs that I missed while we were together started sneaking in.

I work in an emergency veterinary clinic, so I worked till about 3am. He told me that he liked staying awake for me to get home. But, I had to make sure I 'always' left work at 3am. He would get upset and keep texting me if it was past 3am. I tried to explain to him that because it's a ER clinic nothing is actually scheduled. He still didn't understand. There were times where he would say my dog(s) was sick or make up a story to get home before 3am. I'd call him when I left work to let him know I was heading home. There were times he didn't answer and I'd assume he was asleep. One time he didn't answer but was awake when I got home and he was pitching a fit because I didn't bring home any fast food for him. He made me seem like it was my fault and should've known better. I also worked 12+ hour shifts so I liked to sleep in before a long shift. He would always wake me up on his time so he claims "to spend time together", but it was just to make sure I drove him to get him food before I left for work. Can you believe I ignored signs like this?

He didn't understand mental illnesses or as he said he didn't "believe" in it. I told him I was on medication for bipolar and anxiety. I explained to him about the highs and the lows. I told him about my struggles with self confidence. He made me feel so beautiful. After the conversation he said I didn't need my meds and that I was going to be fine without them. I believed him, he made me feel so good I believed I didn't need my own meds. Crazy, right? I was in love with this man and he made me feel...'normal'. He began using my confessions about my illness against me. If we got into a fight, he would say it's my bipolar. He would make crummy comments if he didn't approve of the clothes I was wearing. Sometimes he would make comments on my weight and him suggesting I go the gym. I thought he wanted the best for me.

The sex was immense. We had sex all the time in the start. I enjoyed it just as much as he was. There were times I didn't want to have sex. No was not an answer for him. He made me feel guilty for not wanting to have sex. I explained how my periods are heavy and painful and he couldn't accept days without sex. It would turn into an arguments about sex. Every now and then he would wake me up early from a long night of work just to have sex. I just thought it was a "guy" thing and they needed it daily. Occasionally, he claimed that he needed to cum at least once a day to go about his day. You're probably reading this wondering why I'm still with this man!

We drank a lot. I love drinking, I was young and going to bars as a couple was fun. A lot of my friends would tell you I'm a fun person to drink with. In the start of our relationship it was fun to drink with him. He was funny when he was drunk and we would laugh a lot. We began realizing we were spending too much money at the bars. We slowed down a bit to save. The thing with him was that he didn't know how to stop drinking once he started. He always got wasted every time we drank. Don't get me wrong, I would too sometimes. There were nights we'd be in the backyard with a fire and just listened and danced to music. Oh, we always had to listen the music he liked. He didn't like what I listened to and made sure it was only his genre playing. The night he met my mother we were at my house drinking vodka. He did say sometimes he gets too messed up on liquor. He of course, got hammered. At the end of the night he was hungry and wanted food. I told him I'd been drinking and didn't want to drive. He again threw a big fit and started to walk down the street from my house. Mind you, he's at my house over an hour away from his and has no idea where he is. I got in my car and picked him up and took him to get food. He got so upset that the place he wanted food was closed. It was very late and I told him another place was open. He got more agitated and tried jumping out of my moving car! I got scared and drove us home. The next morning he apologized and said it was the liquor like he warned me. I forgave him and we went about our day.

If someone hurts you while they're intoxicated, there's no excuse for their behavior. The night before our first big incident, he was very strange. We were drunk and somewhat broke. My check wasn't going to be deposited till the next day so we didn't have a lot. We still decided to go drinking. We decided to ditch the bar and buy beer for the house. By the way, he chugged his drinks. There was never any sipping , he just always chugged his drinks. He drank more when we got home. He was upset at me for buying expensive shampoo. I told him it was because I dyed my hair. He then went on a rage about all my expenses. My body wash was too expensive, I didn't need shaving cream, I need to buy men's razors so he can use them too, I spend too much on my underwear, I don't need to buy this makeup, and why did I need this kind of deodorant? You name it, he questioned it. He then got upset because his savings was slimming, he blamed it on me. He started taking a lamp and banging it against his head because he claimed he wasn't going anywhere in life. It came out of no where! He started to punch doors and walls. I sat there trying to help him, but he got more mad and was starting to scare me. I wanted to sleep on the floor that night because I didn't want to sleep beside him. He picked me up and put me on the bed anyways. He was upset about something and banging his fist on the bed but it wasn't on the bed...it was my leg. I stopped him but, he didn't notice that he was hitting me. I started to cry, he wanted to have sex. I told him no and he said I was a "worthless piece of sh*t". I got on top and I realized I didn't want to have sex and that it was hurting me. I got off him and he kept calling me names until he passed out. I cried myself to sleep that night. The next day I told him what happened and he claims that I lied. Mind you, he NEVER remembers anything at a point when he's drunk. We talked about it and he expressed his sympathy on how bad he felt.

The first big incident happened the next night. We had just finished watching fireworks and expressing our love for one another. He got wasted fast. We were at the bar and he ordered some chips and qeuso to snack on. It got all over his hands and shirts and I asked him to go wash his hands since they were covered in gooey cheese. He got mad very quickly. I decided I needed to get us out of there. We of course picked up some alcohol for the house. We got home and I cleaned him up. I was getting drunk too however, I don't black out when I drink like him. He began telling me how worthless I was because we were running out of money. He started punching walls and doors and I was scared I was next. I told him I should probably stay with my sister tonight and we can just breathe for the night. My twin sister only lived about 20 minutes from me. He grabbed my arm and I quickly ran to the bathroom. I frantically called my twin sister to come get me and the dogs because I was scared. He punched a hole in the bathroom door and grabbed the door handle to open the door. He took my phone and hung up the call. I could see my sister was trying to call me back over and over again. He told me to calm down and we can talk about this. I said to him to please let me go. My sister arrived and I quickly grabbed my dogs and hopped in her car. As soon as I got in the car I cried...hard. I was hysterical about the situation I just escaped from. Later on that evening I went up to the police station and filed a report. The next day I was escorted by the police to help me grab my things. I moved in with my sister and our very good friend. I thought I was done with him for good.

A couple weeks pass and he contacted me about something I left behind. I replied and he told me about how he was going to AA. I was happy for him, he needed to stop drinking. I saw him to grab my things and we had sex. Then started secretly seeing each other. My sister finally caught me at his house after suspicion. She made it very clear that if I continued to see him I was not allowed to live with her. She hated him. This was when he turned me against my own family. My sister was more than a sister, she's my identical twin. The love I have for her is something I'll never be able to explain. This man turned me against her and made me think she was the bad guy. He claimed that my sister controlled me and that I need to get away from her. When I moved out, my sister and I began to resinate each other. I chose him over her. As I'm writing this I honestly want to look at myself in the mirror and say "you were a fuc*king dumbass".

I moved back in with him. I am a firm believer in second chances. Again, at first things were going great. He was going to AA meetings and we weren't drinking. He always told me I could drink and it wasn't going to give him urges. I thought he wanted to change for us. A few weeks passed with no drinking and he finally bought a car. When we got home he wanted to 'celebrate' and convinced me that it was okay for him to drink. He claimed he wasn't an alcoholic. That night out was okay, I didn't drink very much to be conscious. Then he kept claiming that if I was drinking he had to drink too. I then would say I don't want to drink and he would just go walk to the gas station and get it anyways. This time I was on my meds again. He still made me feel self conscious about my looks. I would say I missed my sister and he twisted it to where she was the bad guy. On our 6 month anniversary we went to a fancy restaurant I always wanted to eat at that looked over a river. I wanted to get champagne and he said he would have a few sips. We almost finished the bottle till he headed upstairs to the rooftop bar for more drinks. We were drunk but we enjoyed celebrating our little milestone. We went to another bar and then stopped by the gas station for more booze before heading home. I told him that I was thinking about getting my hair done soon and that I really wanted too. He quickly got very upset and said we didn't have money for it. I told him that I was going to pay for it but, he controlled my income. I started crying because as I expressed to him that I work very hard and it would make me feel good. He was just pissed at the fact I wanted to spend money. We went outside for a cigarette and it he began raising his voice. He complained about the dogs for no reason. I ignored what he was saying and he noticed. He opened the gate and he knew my youngest dog would bolt. He purposely opened the gate so she would run away. She was running on the streets and I screamed and ran after her. I suppose he realized his wrong doing because he ran after her and caught her. When we got back I told him how to never put innocent dogs in our arguments. I wanted to leave. I told him I wanted to leave and leave for good. He then grabbed my oldest dog with a knife and said he was going to kill her then locked the door on me. I freaked out, I couldn't get in, I didn't know if he was actually harming her. I needed to get the police. I couldn't find my phone but quickly put my youngest dog in the car. I started my car and realized that my Bluetooth connected. I called the police. He brought my dog outside after he thought I was bluffing. He didn't harm her and I put her in the car until the police arrived. They helped me contact my sister to pick me up. We just decided to grab all my things that evening. I put my 2 dogs, who look up to me for a safe home in danger. I was devastated.

About 2 months after the incident I stopped taking my meds. I thought I was fine and I was going to be brave and get through this. I started going through my highs and lows not noticing what was going on. I contacted him just for sex. The manic high in me just wanted to have causal sex. A couple weeks went by where we just met up for sex. He wanted more than sex. He wanted me back. I told him that was going to be impossible and I didn't know if I could trust him again. The next day after this conversation, I was working and I heard someone was doing burnouts in the parking lot of my clinic. I didn't think anything of it. When I walked out there was sunflowers on my car and I knew it was him. I called him expressing that you don't do burnouts at the place I work. I was embarrassed that he did this. I did thank him for the flowers but he sounded so different. I was confused about his attitude. He hadn't had a drink since I left him month as ago. I told him I would talk to him later because he was sounding crazy. About an hour later he called me to tell me he drove his car into a ditch. I asked if he was drunk and he said no. When I showed up I was focused on his car and a police car pulled up to help us. The officer asked if he had been drinking and he said yes. I smelled it then, I saw it in his eyes, I heard his slurs finally, and then understood his erratic behavior. The officer let me take him home and in the car I was upset. I told him that this was over and he then proceeds to open the car door and threaten to jump out. I needed gas and went to a gas station. I explained to him that he messed up and I no longer wanted to be apart of his mess. I left him at the gas station to find his own way home.

I realized I was going through manic episodes and needed help. Everything I had been through was something I had not processed. The next week I went to the ER to be elevated and put back on my medications. I talked to a domestic violence counselor where I told her my story and she helped me realized all of his abusive behavior. I was someone who was mentally weak without my meds and he knew it. He mentally abused me to the point where I broke down. After spending so much time rebuilding myself, he broke me. He was controlling and manipulated me. Mentally abusing someone is just as important as physical abuse. This is my story. I'm sharing it because I no longer want to be a victim, I want to be a survivor. I know there are more intense stories than mine out there, but writing this has helped me feel powerful. I am going to put the broken pieces back together. I am going to do what is best for me. I am strong. I will get through this. Nobody will ever break me like he did ever again.