ok, i have been reading through Badlydrawnstickmans old posts today, and i came accross something that struck a nerve.
I know i have mentioned my ex boyfriend before, and i kept telling myself it might do me good to get it off my chest, but i never felt ready to write it, i think i am ready

this story will contain violence, and adult content, don't read this if you are atall sensative to matters like this.


When Ian first moved into my parents house with me, he had been thrown out of his bedsit by his landlord, i didn't really know why, but i loved the guy, we were engaged and my folks saw no reason why not, though i made sure he was in the spare room because i like my space.

i was putting his books away on moving day, i came accross old journals of his, all aptly names 'diary of a madman', i flicked through, he said it was ok, there were pages ripped out in places and alot of tipexed area's, i took no notace. i later realised that everytime he had hit one of his girlfriends he had written it down in his journal, but then couldn't face reading it so destroyed it.

the first time
we had been out for a drink, we were messing around on our walk home, we were laughing and joking and kissing and cuddling, somehow we started a play chase, it got us quite invigorated, we both had the same wicked look in our eyes, we talked about roll playing, he told me about a fantasy, i agreed to play along when we arrived home. i can't remember where my parents were, i know they can't have been there.
the play started, he was being rough, i had not heard about the codeword thing that apparently people use in these situations, i got very frightened, i asked him to stop, he didn't. i started to cry, he sat bolt upright, i told him i had changed my mind, i reached out for a hug, he punched me in the face
i sat naked and crying, he told me to get over it.
the next day he promised to get help, he went to the doctors, they refered him to a psychologist, 6 month waiting list, good old national health system.
i should have ended it there, i have no excuses to why i didn't
the second time
the third time
the tenth time
the thirtieth
the first appointment at the psychologist, it was brilliant, i went along, this guy was brilliant, we left really positive that he could really help Ian, and he gave me some advice that i am sure i ignored.
he walked me to work, it was lovely. we talked like never before, i was overjoyed, Ian mispronounced a word, i giggled, i woke up in hospital
why havent i left?
people started to tell my parents things, i denied and denied
he found a new place to stay, things got better, til one day, he had a problem in the bedroom, that was my fault for being fat and ugly, i ran and i ran, and he chased me nearly all the way home naked.
we were away one weekend, his problem occured again but he wouldn't give up, eventually he was ok, but during, he kept demanding me to tell him i was enjoying myself, as soon as he spotted the first tear he tried to throw me out of the room naked, i begged him to let me stay, he said i could sleep in the bath, he wouldnt give me my clothes though and he took the towells away, and locked the door.
I think that was around the time he stopped saying he was sorry, he didn't need to anymore did he!
one morning he over slept, anger lead him to headbut the wall, it knocked him out!
he said it would never stop until i got over it, i was making him feel guilty and that made him angry, and it was my own fault
he met a married woman, she told him her husband beat her, he rescued her, he left me

i don't think i am entirely ready to write this, its been over eight years since he left, but i am writing this so scattily that the point is lost, i think i will have to try again another time, i will edit this when i feel it is time .


i am not asking for sympathy i am getting this off my chest, he had his problems and probably reasons for the way he turned out, but i am no longer making excuses for him, not only did i waste four years of my life with this man, but the next four years that i spent desperate for attention and love, drinking myself half to death, letting my self harming get out of control, until i met the man who realised it was my turn to be saved.
please don't feel bad for me, that isn't the point.