The Deep Stuff *Trigger Warning*

***TRIGGER WARNING: physical abuse & mention of drugs***

This post is going to be very vulnerable.  I am going to talk about some things that may be very triggering to some people.  If you are triggered by physical abuse or mention of drugs, please DO NOT continue reading this post. 

I think we all remember our “first love”.  For most people, those memories tend to be positive, fun, happy memories.  That, unfortunately, is not the case for me.

16 year old Emily had A LOT of issues.  Not only was I still struggling with my anxiety and depression, I was starting to experience some things that I believe most 16 year old girls struggle with.  I was very self conscience.  I was very unsure of my self and my worth as a person.  So, what do most 16 year old girls do when they feel this way?  They look for a boy to give them that confidence boost.  I craved the attention that I received from boys.  They would tell me how pretty I was and how funny I was.  I ate that up.  Especially when said boy, was 18 years old.  A senior was interested in me, a mere sophomore.  I was more than flattered, I was SMITTEN. 

I began dating this guy, and it was going as good as any high school relationship could go, until I saw the real him.  Long story short, he was selling drugs.  Not “hardcore” stuff but marijuana, and some pills I think.  I knew he smoked pot, which was not my thing, but again, I was “in love” so I didn’t really care because it didn’t effect me.  This is where I lost my self.  I wasn’t Emily unless I was with said boyfriend. So I conformed to his lifestyle.  I didn’t start doing drugs, but I started hanging out with his friends, going to these super sketchy party’s/hangout’s, and yes, even going on drug deals with him.  I knew deep down it was wrong, and it made me very uncomfortable but I did it because I wanted to be with him in whatever capacity I could.  *TW-upcoming paragraphs contain mention of physical abuse*

A few months into the relationship, things really went south.  The first incident was a Friday night.  He had some friends over to just hangout.  After a little while, I noticed he was no where to be found.  I also noticed that one of the girls was missing too.  So I looked around for them to no avail.  Once they finally walked back in the door, I over heard the conversation the girl was having with her friends, and with out going into to much detail, he had just cheated on me.  I was LIVID.  I was also embarrassed and heart broken.  So, I went out of the front door and just started walking.  I called my best friend and asked her to please come pick me up and told her what happened.  As, I continued walking I realized it was literally midnight and I was terrified to walk down the main road, so I hid behind a bush while I waited on my friend.  I could hear him yelling for me, trying to find me and unfortunately, he did.  Long story short, we started yelling at each other, screaming awful things and next thing I knew, I was 10 feet backwards laying on the ground.  I remember just laying there as another friend tackled him and defended me.  And you know the worst part of this whole story…I ended up allowing him to apologize to me, and talk me into staying with him that night.  

That are lots of incidents in between, more than I care to think about, but the one that really did a number on me was on Thanksgiving.

We had been to a party the night before, and I went home while he stayed at the party.  All night, I knew something sketchy was going on.  I knew something had happened.  So guess what my dumb 16 year old self did…I snuck out of my house early that morning and drove to his apartment.  Sure enough, my intuition was right.  There was a girl there.  I could hear them in his room.  So, like the love struck lunatic I was, I banged on his front door for what felt like hours.  After probably 30 minutes of this, he finally started coming to the door, while the girl snuck out the back.  I ran in and tried to chase the girl but he grabbed me and pinned me up against the front door.  I didn’t feel it at the time, probably because of adrenaline, but he was pinning my arms so hard I ended up with bruises.  I was screaming at him, he was screaming at me, and then he called me a bitch.  Some kind of inner she-devil came out of me and I nailed him in the lip.  I regretted it as soon as I did it.  I was then picked up by my throat and slammed into the kitchen sink full of water.  Literally choke slammed. I sat there soaking wet, in total shock at what just happened.  The worst part is, a guy who must have stayed over, sat there and watched it all transpire.  This person didn’t step in.  This person didn’t try to help me.  Nothing.  And guess what ended up happening…He came to my family thanksgiving dinner that night, both of us acting like nothing ever happened.  I was absolutely blinded by “love”.  I had convinced my self it was okay because he only hurt me when he did pills.  He was only aggressive when he was high.  Ugh, sometimes I wish I could go back and talk some sense into 16 year old Emily. 

This is where my PTSD diagnosis came in.  I was in such a constant state of trauma between my unstable mental health, and a toxic, abusive relationship, I was barely eating.  I was barely surviving honestly.  I was in an awful, dark place.  My self worth was non existent.  I had damaged not only myself, but friendships, and even my relationship with my family.  At this point in time I weighed 98 pounds, my hair was falling out, and I had constant dark bags under my eyes.  People were literally asking my Dad if I was on drugs.  My face was sunken in, my collar bone and hip bones were poking out, you could see my freaking ribs.  And that was only on the outside. What was going on in my brain was much worse.  It was truly a nightmare.

Luckily, after some help from some really amazing friends, I got the courage to break up with that a** hole, and I never looked back.  I found my self worth.  I started back trying to take care of my mental health and my body.  And eventually, I moved on.  I truly moved on, and I forgave him.  Most importantly, I forgave myself.  Yes, I still got triggered by things.  I had terrible trust issues, if someone yelled at me, I had an intense fear response, I had reoccurring nightmares, and the word “bitch” would send me into a panic.  But after a while, I healed.  The dreams stopped, the trauma responses stopped, and today it is just a bad memory.

It was the classic case of being so in love, I didn’t care what happened.  Even though he abused me, it didn’t matter because “he loved me so much” and “he would never do it again”.  He was “so sorry baby”. 

If any of those phrases sound familiar to you…please get out of that relationship.  If you are being abused, mentally, verbally, or physically, please leave.  I know it’s hard.  I know it’s scary, but please reach out for help.  You deserve SO much better, and don’t forget, you are so much stronger than you know!!!