MY TOXIC RELATIONSHIP

I'm writing a feature about toxic relationships for a university project and it got me thinking about a past experience, I realise this is a little more personal but maybe you can relate!
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I’d always been a one for things that are bad for me, y’know, drinking too much, staying out too late, the naughty crowd at school, carbs, and it turns out my taste in boys wasn’t much different, I loved a bad boy and to be really honest I was never a big fan of all the lovey-dovey stuff, it never really appealed. Maybe that was because I had been hurt before or because I was much more concerned with going out with the girls and having a good time. I’d never had a real relationship, I’d “dated” but the sparks never lasted long and they were always the wrong sort of boy. Typical me. I should have known though that if you play with fire it’s only so long until you get burnt.

When I met him I was 18, just moved away from home, a fresher, I was having a great time and yeah, maybe a little wild but nothing no one else was doing. (If you can’t roll up to a 9am lecture in last night’s clothes and makeup with a hoodie on top for disguise in 1^st year then when can you?) Like I said, I wasn’t very bothered about boys, much more interested in friends and enjoying life but I knew this guy vaguely from hearing his name and seeing him around on nights out and he lived near my parents’ house, I’d never paid much attention but he sent me a message one night and we got chatting. It started as friends, I was actually having some minor-boy drama at the time and would tell him about it, just banter, general conversation, nothing really flirty but I thought he was fit so when he asked to go on a date one night I said yeah.

We met up on Valentine’s Day, ironically I remember texting my best friend the goss and her reply was “Him?!? Nooo, he’s trouble” and me staying true to friends over boyfriends moto ditched him to spend the day with my girlfriends instead. He might have thought I was playing hard to get but in actual fact, I wasn’t that in to him … Yet. We kept meeting up and having little dates and I’ll admit I liked his company, he was funny and we had the same humour and he seemed charming enough. He was 5 years older and he became sort of a best-guy friend, who I fancied. Me being scared of relationships kept my distance as much as I could but after a few months I’d found myself really starting to like him so we had the talk and were officially “dating”, something I was very new to.

It was great, we had tons of fun together, he was kind to me and caring, I was happy, he’d completely won me over and he seemed to like me too; and then it changed. Little things at first, he would check my phone, act possessive, he wanted to know who I was with all the time and didn’t like me having male friends, he didn’t like me going out and would make me feel bad if I did, he didn’t like my friends and tried to turn me against them and eventually we started arguing a lot.

The “dating” period went on and on and on, I felt like a secret. He told me that it was because relationships worked better when no one knew about them and at the time I believed him but now I know it was because he still wanted to go out and play the field. When he went out sometimes I wouldn’t hear from him for days because he’d be at an after party, one day I got a call from my flat mate saying he’d turned up to the house covered in blood and in a state and police were looking for him, turned out he’d got in a fight and been stabbed. He was in trouble often with the police, involved with drugs, his anger got worse and our relationship deteriorated quickly. By this point I’d lost touch with friends because I was always with him so I felt isolated. My family were concerned too but if I was ever confronted about it I would get angry and defensive. I was becoming someone I barely recognised.

The fun loving me was gone, I was stressed all the time, I stopped going to uni, I drank a lot, I’d go out and get wasted in hope he’d be concerned but he only ever got angry, he never asked why I was acting out. I was becoming really self-destructive which caused more arguments. A vicious circle, I kept it all a secret as best as I could from friends because I knew what they would say and I didn’t want to hear it. Several times I’d break down crying when I was caught off guard or drunk and their concern grew. If a bad relationship wasn’t hard enough, your friends and family against your boyfriend was harder, I loved them all but I had completely forgot about loving myself.

He checked my phone all the time, but I knew he was texting other girls, if I ever confronted him about it he would set off in to a massive rage and I’d be shot down with insult after insult. He never took me out anywhere or done any of the regular cute relationship things, he lied all the time, I wasn’t treat like a girlfriend, I felt like a trained pet. He picked my faults, compared me to exes, ridiculed me, and told all his friends how much of a horrible person I was. I felt like he hated me, he would say he did. I’d never felt these feelings before, I’d never been anywhere near love before but it hurt to know that the person I felt this way about thought that low of me. He would set traps, plot ways to catch me out or to “get back at me.” I was never perfect but I tried my best to be a good girlfriend however there’s only so much I was willing to do when I got nothing but abuse back in return. He was a bully. Deliberately trying to hurt me for things I’d not actually done, I knew it was bad then and I was sick of defending myself for crimes I didn’t commit. I got really good at it. I would twist the truth sometimes to avoid arguments but that made things worse and raised any suspicion. 

His anger was unreal; I witnessed him hold a knife to his throat once in a raging feud between him and his own Mother, screaming abuse not even worth imagining before punching a hole through his bedroom door then continuing to head-butt his wardrobe. Old me, and the me now, would have confronted him, they wouldn’t have been scared, but the me then still protected him, I attempted to say something to him but he screamed back at me “Don’t you start” before pushing me away.

He would threaten me, tell me no one would ever want me, that he didn’t even want me, he’d say I was disgusting and he was embarrassed of me, call me names every time we argued … which was all the time. He’d tell me he was going out and bringing someone else home, he’d challenge me, say ANYTHING so that he could get the last word and be one step above me. I obviously tried to defend myself but as soon as I did he would turn it all around, saying it was me calling him names and that I could give but not take. There was no winning!

I was so unhappy and felt trapped. He was my first proper boyfriend and I loved him, despite all of this we had had good times and supported each other through a lot, I cared about him and worried about his health both mentally and physically. I didn’t want to lose him but I couldn’t go on like this so we broke up, again.

 When we got back together he admitted he had been depressed but convinced me we’d be okay, of course it was back handed because I was made to promise to “behave” even though I’d never cheated and stayed nothing but loyal to him all through his depression and everything else. Regardless things hadn’t improved. They were worse. The arguments started again and were worse. Insults got worse, the accusations got worse, I remember sitting with my mum and receiving a text from him saying “burn in hell you fat, disgusting b*tch.” I was used to his insults, they’d lost meaning because I heard them so often but that was the first time he’d called me fat, I don’t know why but that hurt me more than anything. I’d never listened to his insults before, they were just words, over used words, I kind of stopped hearing them. He could swear all he liked at me and I’d shrug it off. I gave as good as I got without swearing and being vulgar, that bugged him because he said I was ‘manipulative’ when really I was just smart, or at least smarter than him. I’d never been the type to back down, I always held my own but it was getting to the point where I was believing every word, he’d defeated me and my confidence and all I could do was cry. The old me wouldn’t have recognised the whimpering, pathetic, person I’d become.

I could handle the cheats, or liars, the “players”, I could handle all that but this was different and I couldn’t handle it. It was here my friends and family stepped in, they wanted the old me back. I wanted the old me back. I plucked up the courage to end it, I expected nothing less from him than the reaction I received, he turned up at my door shouting and calling me every insult under the sun, threatened me, but at least it was the beginning of it all being over. Unfortunately it took months before it was REALLY over. But it’s over now and I’ve picked myself up, piece by piece and now I’m stronger than ever.

I knew, a little too late that he was bad for me. No one jumps in to anything toxic knowingly but some people just aren’t meant to be together. To anyone going through a similar thing, be brave and be kind to yourself. It might feel like you’re walking through a cloud of thick fog, everything is disorientated and you can’t see clearly but listen to the people who love you because they’re seeing everything crystal clear from outside the cloud.