"I finally broke, and breaking was the biggest accomplishment that I have ever had."
I started my high school career enthusiastic, optimistic, and full of curiosity. I was constantly spending time with friends, and I was eager to get involved with programs at school. Contrary to the typical freshman, I wasn't nervous about starting this new chapter in my life. Rather, I was ready to take on whatever challenges these new walls had for me. Unfortunately, nothing could have prepared me for the trauma that I would endure. Instead of going to football games and making new friends, I spent my Friday nights with my controlling boyfriend who was causing me to lose friends that I had had since elementary school. It was my first "real" relationship, and I was fully convinced that him and I were going to spend the rest of our lives together.
"Any red flags that would go up in my mind would be quickly shot down by a bigger voice telling me that they were signs of true love."
We argued often, usually because of something that was ultimately found to be my fault. Any red flags that would go up in my mind would be quickly shot down by a bigger voice telling me that they were signs of true love. I found myself spending the majority of my time trying to fix myself to be the best that I could be for him. Bettering myself didn't mean studying hard and aiming to get acceptable grades in my classes; it didn't mean eating healthy and working out to take care of my body. In his eyes, bettering myself meant clearing my entire schedule to be with him and surrendering any goals and aspirations of mine to his discretion. By the end of sophomore year, I was exhausted, but I was still under his control. While in school, I kept my focus on my classes, however as soon as the final bell rang, it was back to the shooting range and I was the target.
Anyone with rational thought could have easily seen the shift in identity from the beginning of freshman year to the middle of junior year, however the true damage was hidden so deeply that even I was hiding it from myself.
Anyone with rational thought could have easily seen the shift in identity from the beginning of freshman year to the middle of junior year, however the true damage was hidden so deeply that even I was hiding it from myself. I was depressed, anxious, and eventually suicidal, which lead to weekly therapy sessions. Despite frantic pleas from my boyfriend, I attended therapy without any complaints.
I slowly opened up and explained how I constantly felt like I was drowning and no matter how hard I tried, I could never reach the surface.
I was desperate to have some explanation for why I had become a hollow shell without any deeper meaning than the blank face I constantly had. I slowly opened up and explained how I constantly felt like I was drowning and no matter how hard I tried, I could never reach the surface. I was asked about relationships and I was quick to praise my boyfriend and talk about all the good things he did for me. It remained that way until one session, when I walked into the same room that I had been worshipping the same boy for months and I finally snapped. I had finally been set over the edge when he broke things off for the countless time and immediately started seeing someone else. Distressed, I opened up and explained the life that I had been living. I explained how many times he cheated, how many times he convinced me he was the only person who would ever love me, and how whenever I would try to defend myself, he would lay his hands on me in a way that made me never want to be touched again. I finally broke, and breaking was the biggest accomplishment that I have ever had. I had become a dog that barked at his command and I had finally found the courage to take back my humanity.
