Abuse Hides in the Dark. Turn on Your Light.

Kim A’s Story of Abuse

Kim’s Signs of Being Abused

When I was a teenager I had substance abuse issues and got sent away to a treatment facility. They pointed out that my mother’s parenting strategy was verbal abuse. I had no idea that the words she used were abuse. I always thought that sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. So when counselors told me that words can be a type of abuse I was in shock.

Kim’s Words Describing Abuse

Sadness, Anger, Hopelessness

Kim’s Story of Abuse

As a child my mother always used insults to try and keep me in line. The really interesting thing is that I remember all the horrible things she had called me over the years, and seem to forget the good times or compliments if there were any.

I turned 18, moved out, and then met a man when I was 21 who seemed to have gone through the same things with his father. We shared out experiences and found that talking to each other about this made us feel better. We ended up 1 yr later getting into a relationship and moved in with each other.

Shortly after, we got engaged, and 5 years later we got married, and that’s when the abuse started. Now the man that understood my pain from my childhood became the abuser and used the information I had shared with him to hurt me emotionally and to control me.

It’s been 12 years and I am still dealing with this same situation. I do not know how to get out. I don’t think I am tough enough, smart enough, and good enough to survive without him. I have a hard time looking at myself in the mirror because I know that person looking back at me is a horribly weak person. I don’t know how to overcome these feelings of hopelessness and disappointment.

I have hated myself since I was a child and I found myself starting to like myself when I met this man, and now I am once again hating who and what I am. I don’t know how to expose the abuse, according to most I am at fault for staying in this mess, and I shouldn’t let these words hurt me…like the childhood rhyme.

I am weak and I am responsible for how I take these insults, and if I let them drag me down it’s my fault. Now I don’t even feel the need to try and change. I did try to change but the abuse never stopped. I lost weight, stopped going out, didn’t drink socially or keep in touch with friends, all the things that seemed to be the problem according to my husband, and I still was a slut, drunk, fat, gold digger.

I don’t know how to love me again, or how to take these words with a grain of salt.

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