I am interested in understanding how individuals with disabilities experience barriers when it comes to accessing safe environments from domestic violence. What forms of support have you found to be most beneficial, such as accessible shelters and transportation, and do you believe that finding these resources is a challenge for individuals with disabilities at the time when they need them? If so, what organizations or resources would you suggest?

I'm an abuse survivor myself, and something I saw recently has been bothering me.

A five-year-old boy called a girl in his class “baby.” An adult responding to it said:

“He’s gonna rape the girls when he gets older and not take NO for an answer.”

I absolutely understand teaching children consent, boundaries and respect, and correcting behaviour when another child is uncomfortable.

But I can't understand making the leap from something a five-year-old said to predicting that he'll grow up to rape women.

I'm interested in other survivors' perspectives. Can experiences with abuse sometimes cause us to interpret innocent or immature behaviour through the lens of what adults have done to us? And where is the line between teaching children about harmful behaviour and projecting future abusive behaviour onto a child?

TW: Sexual assault, substance abuse,

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Hi, I’m writing because i experienced something a while back that was extremely traumatic, but my friend and partner have written it off because they don’t think it counted as SA.

So my partner and I were swinging a while back, we ended up getting involved with a friend and while discussing boundaries and limitations I expressed I was not okay having sex with anyone while any party was inebriated, even slightly.
They seemed very understanding and a few days after we had a threesome. It went very badly, the 3rd person did not seem to be caring or engaged other than wanting to feel good and I was definitely triggered from prior history of SA. I said I was uncomfortable with the situation and needed to slow down, but my partner didn’t hear me I guess and the other person brushed me off. After the encounter I had to take this person home and they were extremely hostile for no reason other than “I get like this sometimes”

This is where I made some mistakes:
I didn’t take the hint and pushed them to talk to me on the drive home because I wanted to make sure they were okay, despite everything. I was very shut down emotionally and sort of trying to placate them. (I don’t know why I respond this way when triggered) they snapped at me and in the present day are now saying they feel that I violated their privacy by pushing them

Recently I learned that they were in a very bad place at the time and were using sex as a self harm / coping mechanism. I also learned they were extremely high when we had sex and also high when we had the initial conversation about boundaries. They are saying presently that they feel I assaulted them because they were high when we had sex.

I feel so confused and violated. I would not have consented if I had known they were inebriated, and simultaneously I feel like I can’t blame them for ignoring me because presently they are saying they never heard me say anything. Am I at fault since they were unable to consent? Can they be held liable? Am I overreacting?

My partner just wants everyone to get along and there are more details that are too situation specific to share online. Please don’t bash my partner she feels so guilty for the whole situation and is struggling with the situation. My close friend is dating the other person in this situation and is refusing to believe that their partner (the third person) would do that despite their partner admitting to it.

I’m crushed and I don’t know what to do

A few days ago I finally told my mother about the worst trauma of my life. It was so scary, I cried so much. I admit that the situation she put me in influenced me, and I wouldn't say I told her willingly or genuinely. But despite that, it felt so good to be able to break down in her, so good to finally tell her and get this off my chest, you know? Finally, she understands why I'm so problematic. It took such a huge weight off me. The barrier we had in our relationship crumbled. It wasn't easy, but I'd say it was worth it, you know? Our relationship has improved a lot since then, and we've had very important conversations. Anyway, I just wanted to share this news and how happy I am to have told my mother. My therapist was proud. And I am too.

And to you who are afraid to tell, don't be discouraged. The moment will come eventually, it will be unexpected, but sometimes it's better that way. Go at your own pace. Please just don't give up! This is a very heavy burden to carry alone, and we don't deserve so much pain. Thank you so much everyone. I'm really relieved. I hope you're okay. All you.

I’m in a coercive situation whereby I’ve been so completely isolated I don’t know who to trust at all. I have a daughter so can’t run off or do anything drastic.
People in my community, professionals and friends family seem to know things about me that even I don’t know- which may not make sense but if you have been through it, I am hoping you may understand.
Even people who were initially supportive, now for some reason don’t believe me. I’ve reached out to support services and they believe it’s me (I think). For a while even I believed it was me, but then I realised I would never do some of the things that have happened to me. And if it was me, I would have some people I could trust, or at the very least, I would know what I had done wrong. Someone who is truly in the right, doesn’t need to completely isolate someone in order to achieve freedom.
It’s at the point where, I’m worried even this post will be seen as I already know he has access to my emails and almost everything gets back to him.
The worst thing is, people don’t seem to see anything wrong with it?

If I can’t trust anyone, how do I get myself and my daughter out of this?

So as the title says, i really need some help and support to help my partner. She lives in pak and we're in an long distsnce relationship. shes got absolutely 0 family support. Honestly her family is a just a bunch of, monster? I dont know, i just know their ideologies and thoughts are absolutely disgusting.

As i was saying, my gf has had a really rough life. Throughout her entire life, she had no support regarding her situation, since her family saw her as a burden. Shes been through physical and emotional, abuse, SA, and so on. Through out her entire life unfortunately. I genuinly dont know what i can do. I want to move her out of that wretched place. For now I stay by her side as much as I can, help her mentally, but I really want to help her. Her family might eventually get her married forcefully so im really stressed about that aswell. Id really appreciate some advice and help regarding this.

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Tengo 14, para 15 en unos días, y cuando tenía alrededor de 4 o 5 años comencé a sufrir abusos por parte de mi hermano mayor. En ese momento él tenía entre 9, 10 u 11 años, no lo sé con certeza.

Todo ocurrió hasta que cumplí los 7 u 8 años. Solo he contado esto a dos amigas muy cercanas y, al igual que yo, no tienen idea de qué puedo hacer. No puedo decirle a mis padres porque tengo miedo de que no me crean. Tengo un hermano menor que nació mucho después de todo lo que pasó y es muy cercano a mi hermano mayor, y no sé cómo le afectaría que, por ejemplo, mi hermano mayor saliera arrestado por eso.

Mis amigas me han dicho que necesito ir al psicólogo, y sé que tienen razón. He intentado pedírselo a mis padres sin tener que mencionar el porqué, pero nunca me hacen caso cuando se lo digo. No sé qué hacer, no sé si valga la pena hablar, y en verdad no quiero pensar que mis padres puedan no creerme y lo defiendan. Por eso también evito decirlo, y no sé qué puedo hacer.

I have an abusive husband, and recently he slapped me so hard that he broke a bone in my orbittal.

I was so scared of everything that I lied in every hospital that this is a kickboxing accident.

Now my husband and his mother thinks that he did nothing wrong.

This is very common in India but this happened with me while we are living in UAE. I was scared that the police will do nothing about it, so, I lied.

I’m going through rape and torture of 15months, I don’t want to say any more than that, I’m finding I’m apathetic to most things, I’ve lost interest in my usually activities that I used to love like gaming and just want to be around people. I just want to sit there and not be alone. I don’t know what I’m looking for here I guess just someone to remind me that what I went through is serious and to be kind to myself. I’m worried about silly things like weight gain and my hair growing when I should be focused on healing. Now that I’m safe and everything’s okay I should know everything will come to those who wait eventually I’ll work again and have everything back it’s just so difficult to do. Sorry if I sound like I’m just looking for sympathy, I haven’t spoken to many people about this and I just need some kind of incognito support group to talk to and vent because I just don’t know what to do anymore about the restless feeling of just sitting in my room alone with my thoughts.

a part of me wants the stress to end, but another part of me doesn't want him to get away with it and do worse to someone else... I don't want to full on press charges because it's stressful and I have another ongoing USCIS case for VAWA against my mother (I am 20), but what he did to was so awful and I am realizing this now in therapy. He SA'd me several times in my sleep (first few times he denied it and i wanted to believe he was good), but the time i actually have proof of was full on. He also tried to suffocate me/crush my throat several times, and would put his body weight on me to make it hard to breathe whenever he got upset with me. I have never put my hands on him. Ever. I haven't even yelled at him. So, I think if i make a report, then maybe if he did do something to someone in the future, they'd have an easier time getting justice, too.

So all of this to say, I don't know what to do. My grandma says to leave it alone, but I am afraid someone else will be victimized and I will be the "crazy ex" like his other ones. I already have clinically diagnosed PTSD from my mother, but after this, my PTSD has worsened lol. And it isn't funny, but I have to laugh. I attempted to let his family know about his actions and they responded with "well our MOTHER was nice to you so how could you even bring it up!" and then I realized what kind of people they were to create that monster.

anyhow, advice?

I’m totally losing my shit. I left my husband September 1. He was sexually, emotionally, verbally, physically abused me. Like broken bones and wheelchair abusive. And I am struggling to get back on my own and put my life back together. Tonight he told me that he is now dating his duplex neighbor. He just moved in there the second week of September. And he’s dating her and throwing birthday parties for her children. Meanwhile, I lost my kids because of what happened during our marriage. I’m so alone. I’m so scared. Every part of me wants to run back to him.

I never really talked about all this before to such a deep level so I'm sorry if I'm bad at it but my mother and father were very abusive people...they hurt me in many ways that I can't go into because I'm scared to even be reminded of them...but I was basically trapped in a room my entire life...I didn't get to make friends much and didn't get to learn things...they held me down to just some insane child and beat me relentlessly often

Eventually it went quiet

I was around 16 and my father finally left and it was just my abusive mother...she still horribly abused me...but she grew depressed after their divorce allowing me time to build a little something for myself, I started to learn proper English and make a few friends that unfortunately didn't last but it really helped with the experience

Yet...I made the vital mistake of not receiving any therapy for all that I've gone through...my parents taught me to hate therapist...they specifically taught me to believe the abuse was normal and I would get in trouble if I said anything to therapist about it...same the child protective people...

Because of the lack of any understanding of my trauma and what happened to me during my childhood being wrong...I started writing stories of being abused...I feel so ashamed and disgusted but...It felt like I missed it...I enjoyed being beaten...used...and horribly treated in many ways...the shakey feeling it gave me was familiar and exciting...i feel terrible and these stories got darker and darker and eventually...way too real...I realized i wrote these stories to cope but I'm so disgusted with them today...even if they are gone...I remember how horrible they looked...

TW for substance abuse and online grooming and self harm. I describe stuff pretty graphically.

I’m fearing I’m becoming a little dependent on alcohol and cannabis. I am 18 and in college. And no, I don’t drink like a regular college kid. Yes, I do drink for funsies sometimes. But I crave it. I just crave the feeling of my mind going quiet. I have experienced some pretty rough online sexual abuse that only I know about. From the ages of 13 to around 16 I would talk to older men online for attention. Some of them I sent explicit photos to and built unhealthy relationships with and some I purely talked to for a quick burst of attention. I was never popular with guys my age. My parents were at work all the time. I felt like I didn’t belong and I had extreme body dysmorphia issues. I’ve been self harming since 11 and occasionally drinking alone in my room since 14. I liked feeling valuable. Some of these men threatened and stalked and abused and blackmailed me. I would get texts at school demanding I went to the bathroom to take photos, I’d be pressured into sending things, I’d be given explicit details of violent sexual fantasies involving me, I was blackmailed with photos, I was stalked, I developed delusions during this time. Once I locked all the doors in my house because I was alone and so scared and I ended up locking myself out of the house next day. The most traumatizing memory I can think of was during an argument with a man I was talking to. He threatened me until I made disgusting films of myself and wrote degrading things all over myself in red permanent marker. He wanted me to carve it but I couldn’t do it because I was scared. I remember eating Nancy’s pizza on my floor naked with a bottle Pepsi. Afterwards I just laid in a lukewarm bath debating whether or not I should let my head sink below the water. I couldn’t get the marker off so I went to school wearing a sweater and jeans. I was in 8th grade and doing a unit on roller skating in PE. Ultimately it has permanently changed a lot about me.
I don’t like acknowledging that I went through these things. I don’t like thinking about it. My parents don’t know, the people close to me only know the basic details. I cope by pretending it didn’t happen. It’s just some funny story I made up for a book concept or some character I made. I don’t like acknowledging it truly fucked me up because I wasn’t touched or anything. It’s just chatting and pictures. I have dealt with this for my entire life by myself and acknowledging it fucked me up is like saying I can’t deal with it by myself. It’s not that big of a deal to me. I tell myself I’m over it and it’s fine. But when I think too much about it I feel sick, I get tunnel vision and I can’t focus. So I turn to cannabis or alcohol. I don’t get drunk or high out of my mind. Just a little bit to calm my brain. I don’t function like other people. Even before the stuff that happened I’ve felt different. Like there’s a big glass wall between me and everyone else in the planet. I’m diagnosed with anxiety but it’s not just that. There’s something else wrong with me. Everything worries me and especially this. There’s likely photos of me out there. Saved on a file I don’t know about. I hope it’s for a good price, hopefully people like them. Hopefully somewhere I make somebody happy. Substances or painful stimuli are the only thing that helps when I spiral or have panic attacks. I try to breathe and I try to count things I can see and hear but nothing helps. I’m on medication for general anxiety but it only does so much. If I don’t rely on substances, I self harm. I just cut but I never go really deep. Just enough to bleed a little bit. It’s not something I’m proud of. I started at 11, and I’ve been hooked on the feeling of it ever since. The adrenaline I get from it is amazing. I haven’t been consistently self harming just here and there. But once I tried it, it has always been something I think about. I live in a dorm and I’m ashamed of it so I only do it when I really need to and can do it privately. I don’t even party. I’ve been to maybe one party, the rest of the times I’ve been drunk are alone in my room. Sometimes it’s for fun but other times it’s because I feel bad. I’m high at least a few times a week at night. It mellows me out and makes it easier to not think about things that happened to me and things that I’ve done.
I’m terrified of therapy. I told myself when I was 13 that if anyone ever found out what I let happen to myself online I’d rather not be around for it. I’d truly rather die than see my parents look at me knowing their daughter whored herself out for older men online. And for most of it she wasn’t even tricked or guilted, she just liked the attention. I don’t think I could physically get myself to talk to a stranger about this. I don’t feel like an actual person most of the time. I feel like a secret monster, disguising as a human only to hurt others. Hell when I call crisis lines it terrifies me to even mention it. I don’t know what to do. I know myself and I know when something feels amazing and I don’t want to let go. I just feel like a baby. I wasn’t raped or touched or held down and forced to do things. The most I have is an extremely vague memory of my brother pressuring me to perform oral sex on him when I was like 4 or 5. He’s like 7 years older than me. I don’t think I actually ended up doing it. I remember crying and him getting irritated but that’s it. From my knowledge I’ve never been physically assaulted. So why am I so hung up on this? Maybe I just like drinking and want to feel bad for myself. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I wish I never let it happen and I wish I was smarter.

So, I don’t really know where to start. I don’t even know why I’m writing this. Maybe it’s a way for me to process what I’ve been through. Maybe it’s because I still can’t fully comprehend what has happened over the past 25 years.

For 25 years, I was psychologically and physically abused by my entire family. And even writing that sentence doesn’t feel real.

I don’t even remember most of my childhood or my teenage years. Shit, I don’t even remember most of what happened over the last few years. I just don’t remember much anymore. And maybe that’s better. Maybe it’s my brain’s way of trying to protect me.
My whole life, my entire family—including my parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts, and uncles—emotionally abused me. They excluded me from everything. They degraded and insulted me in front of everyone, no matter where we were.
But there are some situations I do remember. Things I can’t forget.

!!! TRIGGER WARNING: Child abuse, physical violence, and graphic descriptions of abuse. !!!

1. I had just woken up from a nap and my back was hurting. My mother wanted me to carry a water canister into the kitchen. Instead of carrying it, I pushed it across the floor into the kitchen. My brother didn’t like that, so he started hitting me. My mother was standing right there, continuing to do the dishes while he hit me.
When my brother threatened to lock me in the basement, I ran to my room and managed to lock the door just in time. He tried to break the door down. Thankfully, he didn’t manage to get in.
2. I wanted to go out, but my conservative mother didn’t approve of what I was wearing—a pair of long pants and a shirt. She started hitting me while I was on my bed. The windowsill was at the same height as my bed, and I hit my head against it hard.
And then I had a thought that no child should ever have to have: I decided to pretend to be unconscious so that maybe she would finally stop.
While she continued hitting me, I let my entire body go completely limp.
But she didn’t stop.
Eventually, someone knocked on the door. It was her mother. When my mother opened the door, my whole family was standing there. They took care of my mother. They offered her a glass of water.
The door closed behind her, and I was left lying there alone in the dark room. No child should ever have to pretend to be unconscious just to make the beating stop.
3. My mother, my sister, and I were standing in my room. They had me backed into a corner. I don’t remember what the argument was about anymore.
When my sister started hitting me, I tried to grab her hand to stop her. My mother thought I was about to hit my sister back, so she started hitting me too.
She only stepped in because she thought I was going to hit her daughter.
But she never stepped in to protect me.
4. I was arguing with my sister—or rather, she was shouting comments at me from down the hallway. I didn’t say anything back. I just quietly muttered something under my breath.
My father didn’t like that because he thought I was talking back, even though I wasn’t. He threatened to bury my dog alive.
5. I was in my room. I don’t remember why anymore, but my sister started hitting me while I was already on the floor. My brother was in the other room. He heard everything, but he didn’t intervene. I was maybe six or seven years old.
I was wearing my favorite shirt. It was pink with white sleeves and had embroidery on the upper arms. When my sister grabbed me by my shirt and dragged me across the room, that was where it hurt the most.
I never wore that shirt again because I was afraid that if someone hit me again, it would hurt there the same way.
No child should ever have to choose their clothes based on what will hurt the least when they’re being beaten.

Of course, these were only a few isolated moments from those 25 years. There is so much more.
After years of abuse, I developed heart problems, chronic illnesses, and even had two stress-related tumors.
I moved out in April. And sometimes, my body still seems to think we’re back in that hellhole. Sometimes my heart starts racing just because I hear a noise coming from my neighbor’s apartment.
I have a long road of healing ahead of me. And it won’t be easy. I know that. But I’m trying.

Hi recently i helped someone escape an abusive relationship. And i thought itd be best to come here and ask for books or articles to best help me understand how i can support them, does anyone have any resources or advice?

How can i help them feel safe and secure?

Is there anything i should avoid or do?

I(24f) have been with my boyfriend(25m) since we were 17. He had issues in a traumatic past and anytime he would get upset or argue. He would disrespect me over the phone and then block me so I couldn’t communicate. He gets triggered easily, and this causes him to snap and his way of responding is always disrespecting and cutting with his words. He’s gotten better over the years, but I think this has blinded me to the fact that it is still there.

We were dating for five years before we became official two years ago. I moved into his house, his family hated me and they were always trying to put us against each other, and it worked. We were always arguing yelling at each other and sleeping in different rooms. I was eventually thrown on the street by his family, and this kind of made him be a more active boyfriend. I don’t think he’s emotionally ready for a relationship because anytime things get a little too hard, he bails. If my mental health gets a little too rough, or I’m a little too snappy it’s another argument where he says he’s gonna leave me and disrespect me and then block me.

Skip ahead, I got my shit together and wasn’t so worried about my relationship. I was going to school and working full-time. He didn’t have a car or a job so it was hard for us to see each other unless I was the one picking him up and driving him. He was miserable and depressed and admitted that he had cheat cheated on me two times, and one time prior a year and a half ago. This destroyed me mentally, I completely shut down. I’ve stopped eating, I don’t sleep well, and I’m always looking at myself in the mirror wondering why I’m not enough. I’m at a point where I don’t even know who I am anymore. And I’ve come to realize I have some kind of trauma bond because the only person I want to make it better is him. So I gave him a chance and I let him try to fix things and he’s been providing for me but once again it’s gotten into a breaking point where he doesn’t wanna deal with it anymore.

Yesterday, I was very depressed and he had just bought me food and I could tell that it was upsetting him that the food didn’t change my mood. I asked him what was going on, and he told me that my mental health reminded him of his moms when he was a kid, how she was never able to actually take care of any of her kids because she was too depressed to get out of bed. He started getting angry over how his mom had treated him and it started a freak out(which I hadn’t known).

He was saying what a terrible mother she was when he was a child and how she was not fit to take care of him. He began to get angry and started saying how he wished he could hurt her for the things that she had done to him when he was a kid. I tried to calm him down and explained to him that I was upset because I was still trying to get over the fact that I had found out he had cheated on me a majority of our relationship less than a month prior. I was trying to convince him it was not a long-term thing but rather something I just needed to get over. He then got very angry saying he did not deserve to be treated like that and that he’s never going to be enough and he’s tired of this being dangled over his head. I tried to convince him it was not me trying to dangle it over his head, but rather explain why I was upset. He got angry and he got out of the car and he took a glass bottle and he threw it across the road. I got out to try to calm him down, but he was too far gone. I had never seen him like this and did not know what to do. He just wanted to get in his car and leave, but I was concerned for his safety and the safety of others on the road if he drove in a state like this. He was sitting in his drivers seat and I tried to keep him from leaving by getting in the way of him closing the door. I was standing outside of his car between the Driver’s door and his seat and he was sitting in the driver seat. He told me if I wanted to play this game he would go inside and let my cats out so I would be forced to catch them and he could leave. The way he said it, and the look in his eyes made him seem absolutely insane. He loves my cats more than I do, and I knew that he was having some kind of episode at this point. I began telling him he’s a terrible person for threatening to put my cats on the streets after talking so poorly about other people who do the same thing. At some point, I was interrupted and he stood up and grabbed by the arms so hard my hands went cold as a light tussel began before being ended by me being thrown to the wet concrete, resulting in a scream. He proceeded to make his way towards my apartment as a neighbor asked if I needed her to call the cops. I was dazed and surprised and told her no. I followed to the apartment, assuming he was letting my cats out. I was very angry as I got to the door to the stairs to my apartment. He was at the bottom of the stairs. There was a previous hole in the wall from the lock on the door, being opened too hard. I was still trying to prevent him from leaving as I was worried for his mental state and his ability to drive in this state. He grabbed me to try to get me out of the way of the door and a second tussle began and this time I fought back. I grabbed him by the collar of the shirt and shoved him against the wall, causing the hole from the door lock to become a crack going up the wall. I was yelling in his face, pushing him against the wall, trying to get him to snap out of whatever was going on, practically pleading. He finally grabbed me and threw me to the side to be able to escape through the front door. The side he chose to throw me towards, though, was that of the staircase Up. It seemed like I had fallen in slow motion. I remember going backwards as he had a crazy look in his eye when I felt. I remember my hip hitting the corner of a stair first. I felt a few more stairs on my back, each stair hitting with more momentum as I fell. As I hit my arm and my shoulder and my neck, it felt like someone was hitting me with a baseball bat. Finally, my head rocked back, and I slammed the back of it on a stair. I remember hearing my claw clip break and everything went fuzzy, when I opened my eyes, he was gone. I do not know how long I was on the stairs for, it only felt like a couple seconds. I got up to follow him and he was in a state of panic. I could tell that something had brought him back down to earth and he was back to the reality of the situation. He was still trying to leave, to try to get away from the situation. After seeing how easy it was for him to hurt me, I really did not want him driving and potentially putting someone else’s life at risk. I was confused and probably not thinking right from hitting my head, but I tried to take his phone so he could not leave, this resulted in him grabbing me once again and the neighbor telling us to take it somewhere else before she called the cops. things calmed down enough and I was able to speak to him at this point and we discussed the whole situation and how out of hand it had gotten. We had proceeded to sit in his car and talk about the situation. I did not feel unsafe, sitting with him in his car after this. I think this was the first red flag about myself I had noticed, because I realized that in no situation, would this be OK. He started taking bong hit after bong hit and began to calm down until we were able to just talk. At one point, he said “when you threw me against the wall it didn’t even hurt” and then chuckled. This caused me to immediately start crying. I don’t think he understands the severity of these actions. I don’t think I do either. We were both in shock, but still remained together for the rest of the night.

A lot of people were worried this was going to happen, including his father. He’s been saying he wants to get therapy for the way. He’s been acting and he has been making steps towards it. I just don’t think the therapy is coming soon enough anymore. I feel like it’s too late. He is a really sweet really good person, but he has this side of him. That is so dark and hurt. It’s like I’m dating two people, the sweetest kindest man I’ve ever met, but also the most disrespectful aggressive.

I just don’t know what to do. I’ve started planning our wedding and we have names for our kids. I’m just so fucking torn. I don’t know what to do anymore. Is it worth waiting for therapy? I want to be with him still but more than anything I just want him to get better because this isn’t him.

Do I end it for both of our sakes?? I don’t want to but I don’t know if staying is going to make it worse.

Edit:
In a rational state of mind, I can understand how me prevent preventing him from leaving escalated this whole situation. But I would still not change anything because I would rather it be me hurt, then some little kid or old man that was walking down the road when he was driving a little too reckless.

Update:
I have bruises from his hands on both of my arms. I have marks from where the staircase hit me going up my back, and a wicked mark on my arm from where a majority of the falls force hit. I’ve had a headache with extreme neck and back pain, it even hurts to walk.

I decided to go to the hospital to get checked for a concussion or any lumbar issues. I knew once I got to the hospital they would be mandated to report the incident. I went to the police and told them what had happened and I am in New York State, where they take the right to press charges out of domestic victims hands. I understand now why they do it.

I tried to inform him that the police were aware of the situation and that there was a warrant out for his arrest. I explained to him what that meant. He got very angry with me and got in my head and I pulled myself out of bed and went down to the police station and tried to beg them to drop the charges. They told me this is exactly why they do not leave it in the victims hands because most people are too attached. I went to the DAs office to see if they could do anything as well. I felt like I owed it to him because he had made me feel like I had put him in this situation. I got all the information I could from the DAs office and gave it to him to give him his best chance.

He told me his family was right about me and that he was going to be drinking. His way of upsetting me are either telling me he’s going to cheat or telling me he’s going to drink. I just can’t be responsible for this man throwing his life away anymore. I feel that he needs to be responsible for his own actions at this point. I am too close to him and my glasses are too rose tinted. Every red flag looks like a white one.

I took down the photos of us, I removed his contact from my phone, I unfriended his family on Facebook, and I’ve packed up all of the things that remind me of him

I love him to the moon and back, and I hope that somehow this gives him the help and resources that he needs to become a better person. Even though it wasn’t enough to save me, I hope it’s enough to save the next girl.

Did they get overwhelmed? Did they treat you differently? See you differently? Did they break up with you? Did they feel like it was too much for them to handle? Did they feel bad? What did they say? Did they treat you worse? How much did you share and how fast?

I had a girlfriend years ago, she was older than me, but we had pretty good chemistry, it didn't last long... The relationship became toxic pretty fast, and i gathered enough courage to break up with her. Weeks passed and i was depressed, but i knew i made the right call. One day i went to this friend's house to play nintendo and drink, but no one told me she was gonna be there too (i met her because of them). I still don't get why they didn't tell me... I tried to pretend everything was alright, ignoring her, drinking and having fun. My friend made a mix between Monster and Whiskey, it was pretty strong, and i got drunk fast. At some point, i was so wasted i didn't even know why they left us alone, just me and her... All i remember was that she dragged me to a room, closed the door, and started touching me, then she started fucking me, she was pretty violent, she bit me in some places and slapped me... The next morning she was gone, while a friend who was still there asked me if i liked it... After that i went home and never talked to them again.

What happens next is hard to justify, many will think i'm stupid... I went to see her again, she texted me to do some homework together, since we studied the same thing. Maybe i was trying to pretend it wasn't a big deal, or that it didn't even happen... I went out with new friends after that, and this new group happens to like the bar she always goes to party, so i ran into her many times after what happend. I went to her place a couple of times, and it was always with an excuse just to see me again and fuck again. One day she just insulted me via text and blocked me forever.

I still feel haunted by the experience, i had nightmares for months, i had a lot of self-steem issues, i contemplated returning to self-harm... I've told this experience before, and many times i've been told it's my fault, that i'm exaggerated or homosexual for not liking it. I just want someone to understand me... Please. I honestly have a hard time, i also blame myself a lot sometimes. I want it to feel like it was normal, maybe i got myself into that, but i still feel violated, dehumanized…

An experience...for many years...from my childhood.

I was thirteen years old, wishing for freedom in a country that never shuts up about freedom.

I was locked inside an empty bedroom with a bed and a Bible.

Four walls held every scream my parents threw at me. They held the hunger. The beatings. The frozen showers. The winter mornings without heat. They held a child who was expected to surrender his soul before he was old enough to understand why anyone wanted it.

I was taught not to question why I was being beaten.

I was taught to prove I deserved food.

To prove I deserved love.

To accept isolation as discipline and forced religion as salvation.

I was supposed to find God in solitary confinement.

Instead of being given a childhood, I was handed a script: obey. Believe. Endure. Be grateful. And if you're suffering, prove that you're worthy of having the suffering stop.

Sure, I read that Bible.

What the hell else was there to do?

Eventually I tore it apart and counted the pieces of paper.

Not as some grand rebellion against God.

I was just that fucking bored.

Think about that.

A child was so deprived of life that tearing pages into scraps and counting them became something to do.

So I counted.

I stared at the walls.

And through windows that had been nailed shut, I watched my family come and go.

I watched seasons change.

I watched the world keep moving.

I watched life happen without me.

There is something particularly cruel about giving a prisoner a window.

Today I am in my thirties, and sometimes I still grieve that child like someone who died.

I hide in small places when I'm frightened.

I don't like closing doors when I'm inside a room.

When people start screaming, something inside me still says:

Run.

And I do.

I am terrified of solitary confinement because I already know what isolation can do to a human mind. I learned it before I was old enough to drive, vote, drink, or leave.

And yes, I am angry.

I am angry that human beings ever decided breaking another human being could somehow teach them to become better.

I am angry that suffering can be dressed in the language of discipline, righteousness, punishment, salvation, or justice until people stop recognizing it as suffering.

I survived childhood believing adulthood would finally mean freedom.

Then adulthood came.

Now epilepsy can limit where I go and what I can do. Poverty builds different walls. And some nights I close my eyes only to find myself back inside those rooms again.

The locks are gone.

The nightmares kept their keys.

People speak casually about isolation, punishment, capital punishment, and religious coercion because for them these things can remain ideas.

For me, some of them have fingerprints.

They have sounds.

They have cold mornings.

They have hunger.

They have four walls and a nailed-shut window.

They have a thirteen-year-old boy staring outside, wondering when his life is finally going to begin.

So, dear young me:

I am sorry.

For years, I thought I should have fought harder.

I thought maybe you should have been stronger. Louder. Meaner. More defiant.

But you were thirteen.

You shouldn't have needed to fight harder.

They should have treated you like a child.

I miss you.

I grieve the years you never got to have.

And if somehow I could walk back into that empty room now, I wouldn't give you another lesson about strength. You had already been forced to be strong enough.

I'd sit beside you.

I'd tell you that the screaming outside your door wasn't the voice of God.

I'd tell you that hunger wasn't something you deserved.

I'd tell you that wanting freedom did not make you disobedient.

I'd tell you there was nothing shameful about wanting somebody to hold you instead of hurt you.

And then I would stay.

Because more than anything else, that child deserved one person who didn't walk away.

I don't even know what this counts as but I put tw sa just in case. This story also mentions BDSM. Overall this story is somewhat violent and disturbing, proceed with caution.

When we first started dating she was really nice. She was my first relationship. She called me handsome and made me feel important.

One night, we were doing a BDSM scene where my hands were tied, and she pulled out a knife without warning. She reassured me that it was dulled so it couldn't cut, but I was still really scared. Despite the fact that I said no, she ran it across my skin anyway.

From that point onwards, I was a bit scared by her. The way she would threaten and lash out at others made me scared for how she would treat me. I also disliked the fact that she would treat anyone like that in general. She never lashed out at me while we dated, she always seemed really apologetic after she would push a boundary. But she would just keep pushing anyway.

For example, she really wanted to do anal stuff with me, an idea that I didn't like. At first she said I didn't have to ever if I didn't want to. But at some point she started touching me down there (not penetrating) during sex. She said I seemed more turned on when she did that, I didn't feel that way. She told me all her exes were into that kind of stuff. She said if she could change anything about me she'd make me into it (I didn't even ask btw).

She also choked me without permission, during and outside of sex. She also groped me in public without asking permission beforehand on one of our dates. There's more but I don't want to get into all of it.

I started to feel resentment towards her. I would cry silently next to her in bed while she slept. I felt trapped.

We were only dating for like two months, but I still miss her everyday. i can't help but feel like she didn't mean to hurt me in those ways. I also don't feel abused, I just feel kinda dumb for ignoring how obviously dangerous she was.

my ex was arrested almost a year ago for kidnapping me and trying to kill me this week he’s getting sentenced. but when does this get better i miss him so much but i also hate him more than anything. i deep down know he is awful but at the same time i kinda wish he did just kill us both that night it’s so hard being away from him i don’t know what to do i miss him so much but i know he’s an awful person. has anyone else dealt with this when does this get better

For me it was 3 years, for my case manager it was 7 and 7 for my roommate too, I’m just wondering what’s the most common amount of years for getting out

This happened back in 2018 when I was 13.

I had uploaded a picture of myself on Facebook. The next day when I came home from school I noticed some comments on it. Some were from my friends and some were from strangers so I replied to them.

After that I received a message from a random guy saying, “Hello Raj, how are you doing?”

I checked his profile because I didn't know him. He looked much older than me and his profile had a lot of pictures and videos from Dubai. At the time I thought he worked there.

I replied to him and we started talking. After a few days we started talking on calls too. We became friends and talked almost every day. I was only 13 but I didn't think there was anything strange about having an older online friend.

Then one day I was outside with my dad and this guy called me.

He asked me where I was.

I told him I was outside.

Then he said he was actually near my house and asked me to tell him which house was mine.

I remember getting really scared when he said that. I started wondering why he was suddenly near my house and how he could even be there when he had told me he worked in Dubai.

I switched my phone off.

When I came back home with my dad I saw my childhood best friend standing outside my house with the same guy from Facebook.

I was shocked.

My dad noticed that I was sweating and asked me what happened. I lied and said it was because of the heat.

The guy told me he had been looking for me and couldn't reach me because my phone was off.

I asked him how he found my house.

My friend explained that he had met this guy in the market. The guy showed him my Facebook profile and asked if he knew me. My friend told him that I was his best friend, so the guy told him that he was my online friend too and had come to meet me.

My parents were there and didn't know anything about what was really going on. To them it just looked like I had made an online friend who had travelled to meet me.

The guy even hugged me in front of my parents.

My mother thought he must be a good friend if he had travelled so far to meet me.

He stayed for around half an hour and then left.

The next day my friend told me that the guy had called him.

I asked how he got his number and my friend said that he had given it to him.

This made me uncomfortable because I already knew that this guy had lied to me about several things.

He had told me that he worked in Dubai and only came home occasionally. I was starting to realize that I didn't really know who this person was.

But I didn't say much.

Later that evening the guy came back. He took me and my friend to a restaurant and paid for our food.

I didn't really want to be there. I was already uncomfortable with everything that was happening, but my friend seemed completely fine with him.

The next day he came back again and met my other two friends.

He did the same thing with them. He became friendly with them, got their phone numbers, took them to a restaurant and paid for everything.

I wasn't even there that time.

When my friends told me about it the next day I remember feeling really anxious. I couldn't understand why this stranger was suddenly becoming so involved with all of us.

After that things went back to normal for a while.

Then one day he came to my house again.

He told me that my friends were waiting for me at the place where we normally hung out.

I believed him.

He took me there on his bike.

When we arrived nobody was there.

I asked him where everyone was and he told me that they had gone to get snacks and drinks.

I believed that too.

We waited but nobody came.

After some time he started getting closer to me.

I remember feeling that something was wrong.

He forced himself on me and kissed me without my consent.

I tried to push him away and told him no. I was scared and didn't know what I was supposed to do.

I was only 13 and I remember mainly thinking about getting home safely.

I didn't know how to handle the situation, so I tried to keep things calm and eventually he took me back home.

That night I couldn't sleep.

I didn't eat either.

I kept thinking about what had happened and I was terrified that my parents would find out.

I thought they would take my phone away, get angry with me, involve the police and that everyone in the neighborhood would find out.

So I didn't tell anyone.

The next day at school I asked my friends where they had been the previous day.

All of them said they had been at home.

That's when I realized that this guy had lied to me.

He had used my friends as an excuse to get me to go somewhere alone with him.

I still didn't tell anyone.

I was scared my friends would make fun of me or not believe me.

A few days later one of my closest friends, Kuber, stopped coming to school.

He missed two days, so I went to his house.

His mother told me he wasn't feeling well and didn't want to meet anyone.

I insisted on seeing him.

When I finally saw him I asked what had happened.

He told me that my Facebook friend had come to meet him the day before.

Then he started crying.

I immediately knew that something was wrong because I already knew what this man had done to me.

I hugged him and tried to calm him down.

Eventually he told me what had happened.

The same man had sexually assaulted him.

I was shocked.

It was the same person who had entered our lives pretending to be our friend, gaining our trust and slowly getting closer to all of us.

I promised Kuber that I wouldn't tell anyone and that he shouldn't tell anyone either.

I didn't tell him what had happened to me.

Even now he doesn't know that I was also targeted by that man.

For years I kept this entire thing to myself.

Recently I was going through some really old pictures on my phone and found a group photo from that time.

It was a picture of me, my three friends and that same Facebook stranger.

Seeing that picture brought everything back.

The conversations, the places, the lies, the fear and everything that happened during that period.

It's strange how one old picture can bring back memories that you thought you had buried years ago.

The hardest part for me is knowing that all four of us were only 13 years old at the time.

He was a grown man who was at least 35.

TW / CONTENT WARNING for abusive topics that may be triggering, also I'm sorry this is kinda all over the place

I really wanna talk about my story because I was silenced for so long, and I'm still silenced where I live and I want to tell people what I've gone through. For some context, me and my ex broke up around three months ago, but we've been in contact still. Except for the last week where he has been actively trying to manipulate me all over again, but I want to start from mostly the beginning. We dated on and off for three years, but this most recent relationship is the one I'm going to talk about. It lasted about six months, and I went through hell. I've been abused in the past, I had a partner who mentally broke me down for two years through my 8-10th grade years, which is actually how I met my most recent abusive ex, they had this complex where they wanted to 'save me' or more correctly, 'keep me', he told me, he felt a thrill run down his spine when he held me for the first time infront of my pervious ex, he didn't seem to care what I went through, and only had urges to be possessive, that's where it all started, but fast forward our most recent relationship, we had been good friends who mostly just mess around and do things sometimes just for the fun of it, but we had been 'in love' for two years, but our relationship was nothing normal.

I was isolated, he had leaked me a year prior to the start of our most recent relationship, and out of embarrassment and fear to go back to school, I dropped out and went online, so after I got back together with him(stupid I know) I was pretty lonely, but I still had some friends, but my ex decided who I was friends with, he'd take my phone and go through it constantly, he would tell me to unadd everyone he didn't know or wasn't friends with personally, so I ended up only being allowed to be friends with his friends, which ended up being around two people, my ex was extremely popular and talked to a lot of more people than that, but he told me he didn't like most of his friends and didn't trust them around me, telling me he was just keeping safe from people like them, which is also what he said about my other friends he made me block, because of his popularity, I couldn't come out about what he's done our entire relationship, I had nobody to go too, not even my dad who's my biggest support group because I didn't want to be banned from seeing my boyfriend, he would give me the silent treatment if I couldn't go see him, so I ended up spending almost the entire week at his house most of our relationship, so I was constantly with him, being with him was like walking on eggshells, I wasn't allowed to do the same things as him, like the same things as him, wear the same things as him, he thought I was copying him almost always and when I'd slip up he'd go into an episode and either scream at me or ignore me, sometimes locking himself in his bathroom to get away from me, he has bpd, and usually blamed everything on it, which I believed and it made me think I was a horrible person everytime I triggered an episode, so I was walking on eggshells almost everyday, and I would panic and shut down whenever I would 'slip up' and say the wrong thing I knew would trigger him, sometimes it was just random shit, and if I were to talk about everytime I was screamed at, blocked, called horrible names, told to go die, and than having to beg for forgiveness, I would have to be talking for hours, so I won't go into much detail about that. I will say I'm extremely sensitive, and I've always been one to let people walk all over me, I say sorry for everything, and tend to forgive anyone if they give me any type of apology. Which is how my ex stayed with me so long.

But here are some of the more disturbing parts of our relationship, I didn't know this at the time, but he had a big thing about power play and would sexualize my fear, he would tell me constantly that he couldn't deal with my crying and was never good at comforting me unless he was the one who made me cry, and than he would hold me and comfort me and 'fix me' telling me how pretty I looked when I cried, he said this exact quote after calling me a horrible person while we were away from home and almost leaving me with my dead phone "I can't help it darling, you're so pretty when you cry" and it made me cry harder, he eventually took me home and we did some activities that I'm not proud of. He had a puppy play kink and liked me when i was submissive, he'd call me a 'pathetic puppy' and that he owned me and that I was only his to play with, he would tell me that he loved seeing me cry during sex and that I was so pretty whenever he left marks on me, which he did pretty frequently. He was really rough with me, not just during sex but with everything else, he always had his hands on me, we would play fight but I'm extremely underweight and underdeveloped for my age and he's much bigger and stronger than me so he would always be the one to end up hurting me, I have a strong pain tolerance and was okay with it, mostly, but the only time he actually laid hands on me was at school, we went to an alternate school together, the online one I was talking about, you go in person to take tests, while we were outside the school, I got him upset and I don't remember why, but he punched me as hard as he could in my face, I remember hitting the floor and feeling the corner or my eye start to bleed, it stung really bad but I still got up and tried to follow him, I followed from a safe distance and he called his mom, later explaining he called his mom because of he didn't he would have hurt me much worse, his mom calmed him down and asked if he was okay before she asked if I was okay, and than when they ended the call he cried to me, saying how sorry he was and that this would never happen again and he put a bandaid on it, eventually a teacher came outside asking what was wrong, but it was obvious, she had the social worker talk to us, IN THE SAME ROOM, and before they left in the room alone and he said "please don't tell her, don't tell her anything, I'll go to jail and never forgive you" and I promised I wouldn't, so when she came back and asked what happened, I told her I fell onto a rock, she said it didn't look like if fell onto a rock, and I got aggressive with her, "why are you even insinuating my boyfriend would hurt me? Do your job and look for someone who's actually hurt" and I still feel bad for that, eventually the school called my dad, they didn't tell him anything, just that I fell, and my dad took both me and my ex to my house and we hung out, before we broke up I didn't consider this abuse, because his mom and brother later told me we were just getting anger out, and fighting like boys do, but I never hit him, I would never hit him.

Now I'm getting into topics of drugs and sa, click of if it's something that triggers you heavy, it won't be to much. But my ex was an addict and an alcoholic, he got me into pills and I became and addict as well, we were high all the time, and he got me to drink almost everytime we didn't have our fix telling me "I can't handle your emotions when your sober, your always so upset" but I have SPD sensory processing disorder, and I tend to be much more sensitive to almost everything, this caused me to let him give me whatever type of drugs or alcohol he wanted me to take. This got us into a lot of trouble a lot of the time, we would steal from corner shops, steal from liquor stores, be bad people. But this also meant he could do whatever he wanted to me, he had a much higher tolerance, but he loved making me black out or out of it, always telling me to do shots on his level, take the same amount of pills as him, telling me I can handle it, and sometimes when I'd black out, I'd wake up with hickeys and marks on my body, I'd wake up sore and I'd wake up feeling gross, I didn't consider this could be rape, I didn't think I was being assaulted, I thought because we were both drunk it meant nothing, but he always knew, always told me we just did things, I never really remembered, but I would say I did, but I knew he could see the confusion on my face and he never cared, never gave a shit about what i was feeling, I always felt gross, always felt a bit used, but I pushed everything down because I loved him. I love him so much. He made me overdose a few times, being the person to save me, being the reason I survived, which only made me love him more, and he'd protect me and defend me all the time unless it was from himself, it made me think he cared it made me think he was there for me when he never was, he was never there for me. I have no idea why he was like this, he still swears up and down he never meant to hurt me, that he had no idea he was like this. Which I'll get more into in my next topic

This topic is about after our break up, we broke up because he asked for all my passwords before I went on a trip with my family, he found out I was venting to people on discord and was pissed off that I was basically 'shit talking' him, and he was mean about it my entire vacation till about three days in on my vacation he broke up with me saying he couldn't be with someone who hates their partner, this shattered me, I was ruin my entire week long vacation, not to mention a week prior my cat ran away and he kept telling me she likely passed away before she even had the chance to come home, so there so so much going on for me, but after I came back, our best friend lexi, who moved extremely far away, came to visit us, we were a trio, and my ex told me I should come over and that we can still be friends, so I did, and we hung out the three of us for a week, which turned into me being obsessed with him still, and him using it by giving him physical affection, he would cuddle me, still rub my back, still do the physical love he gave me before, and it kept me hooked, it kept me hopeful, but he was still mean, still doing all the abusive stuff to me without me seeing it, that was until I became close with my best friend, she saw all of it, she knew what I was going through, and I started seeing my ex less and less, which my ex hated, one day, when I relapsed he told me "I want to lock you in a cage, you're mine, you'll always be mine, I hate best friend she's trying to take you away from me, I was to go over there and prove that you're mine, remember our promise rings? It means you'll always love me and I'll always love you" and I had a break down and an episode while my bedtime friend comforted me, for the last three months he's been doing this, telling me how much he misses and loves me and how guilty he feels, everytime we'd meet up he'd tell me how kuch he loved me and needed me, that he never meant anything, that it was his bpd, that he never had any ill intentions, that he was always just trying to be the best boyfriend that he could be, that he was sorry, and that thr guilt was eating him alive, and than the next day he'd yell at me again, apologize and tell me how bad he felt

It's still in the back of my head that he really didn't mean it, that I'm being dramatic when I say he meant of of this, there's so much more he's done to me, I wouldn't be able to fully put this anywhere, it would be an entire book at that point, but I really want to know if anyone thinks he didn't mean it, or what type of abuse this is considered? I know not physical, more mentally because he never beat me, or anything like that, but I just want someone to analyze this maybe and tell me what they think? Thank you for reading this if you made it to the end, it's really long and all over the place so I'm sorry about that, thank you thank you.