Emotional abuse isn't something to joke about it. It is an extremely real form of abuse, and it is more prevalent than people actually realize. I was the victim of emotional abuse for over a year of my life. This is my story.

I was fairly young when I met my ex-boyfriend. The school year had just begun and was off to a fantastic start. One night during the week, I was scrolling through the locals on a dating app, and his image popped up. I lingered for a minute before scrolling past, but curiosity got the best of me and I went back. I searched his profile and decided to send him a message. Five minutes later I had a reply. From that night on, we talked every day through the app before I gave him my cell phone number. On day five of talking, we had our first date. He was tall, dark and handsome, with gorgeous blue eyes that I couldn't help losing myself in. He made me laugh with his smart-ass remarks and silly personality. We went on two more dates before I officially became his girlfriend. I remember being on Cloud Nine, filled with pure excitement and happiness. I was falling in love.

Fast forward to four months later. The honeymoon phase was drawing to a close, as was the happiness I was encircled in every day. His demons that I thought were long gone were surfacing, fast. Depression and anxiety were suddenly a very large part of my days, yet neither issues were mine. Nearly every night I was awake close to midnight, talking to him until he would finally fall asleep. These late nights dealing with his insomnia left me exhausted and unable to focus during my school days, but I knew if I said anything to him, he'd immediately become upset or angry with me and convince me that I wasn't "there for him." My grades began to drop, and my friends and family were suddenly miles away. The only constant was him, and his actions were destroying me from the inside out.

Before I met him, I'd been in previous relationships and had had three sexual partners already. Even after the two of us had taken that step, he continued to judge and degrade me for my past. He hated the fact that I drank alcohol and smoked cigarettes at a certain time in my life and had been with other people. I remember how much that hurt and how many times I cried just over that, wishing that he would understand and move on from it. He would give me random "tests," where he would try to convince me to go drink with him, and I knew that if I said yes, he would become angry and go on about how I lied about not wanting to drink and threaten to leave. I couldn't even associate with some of my friends outside of school, or coworkers outside of work, because he knew that they drank alcohol and didn't trust me to not partake in it. One particular day I drove to the Mall to meet up with him and his family. Not long into our shopping day, he started up what I thought was another "test" of his to get me to admit how I felt about alcohol. By this time in our relationship, I was so afraid of what he'd say or do if I told him the truth that I was shaking uncontrollably and fighting back tears.

He had many friends who were women. I didn't have a problem with it, until I was the one who was put on the back burner and was being ditched for him to go hang out with them. Then came the lies, saying that he was with one of his best guy friends when really, he was with a girl. One day, the two of us were supposed to go to an amusement park for the day. Neither of us had looked at the forecast in the days prior, so when it came to that day and we saw it was supposed to rain all day, we decided not to go. Later that night while I was at a football game, he finally messaged me back after a few hours of having no response. I didn't think too much of it, until he told me that he went had gone to the amusement park with a female friend of his, one that saw him as more than just a friend. She had kissed his cheek and attempted to hold his hand. I recall telling him that I was uncomfortable with the two of them being alone around each other from then on, and he was always reassuring me that everything was OK and that it wouldn't ever happen again. Yet I knew in my heart that he didn't see how wrong their actions were and that he didn't tell her she couldn't do that.

This boy was a master manipulator who loved having power and control over our relationship as well as me. Anytime that we would get into an argument of some sort, he would not only blow it out of proportion, but threaten to cancel any plans we had that day or in the following weeks. He would go on for minutes to hours on end about whatever it was that pissed him off until I was begging, pleading and crying for him to stop.

I knew deep down that how he was treating me wasn't right. My friends, family, coworkers, everyone I knew all told me to leave, that he wouldn't change no matter how many times I told him to seek help. My big, stubborn heart couldn't let go of the man I fell in love with, and the man I still saw glimpses of from time to time. I held on to that little shred of good in him for so long that I was growing used to the way I was being treated. Until one day this past winter in January, I finally snapped. He had made a threat (one of many) to send me home because I "was crabby and needed an attitude adjustment." Everything fell into place in my head. I was done with his bullshit. Less than a week later, I was free of him for good.

It's been almost six months since the day I Ieft. While I'm no longer in love with him, the damage is still in my head, as well as the memories of being treated so horribly. I know that as time passes, I will continue to heal, and one day I'll be ready to start something new, and this time, I know what to look for, and what to avoid.