"Threatening suicide is a form of abuse, and my partner used it to control me"
Warning: The following contains accounts of physical and sexual abuse, and suicide. Emma, 27, is assistant manager at a Women’s Aid-run refuge for survivors of domestic abuse. Here, she shares her own experiences with Cosmopolitan UK.
I was in an abusive relationship for seven years, and during that time I experienced every type of abuse you could think of: financial, sexual, physical, emotional, coercive control. I was in denial for a very long time because I was so manipulated into believing that what was happening was normal. In my eyes, it was my fault my partner was abusing me.
Although I had an overwhelming feeling of not being able to leave him, I did try five times over those seven years. And every time, he attempted suicide. It was his way of controlling me.
At one point, I was walking through a park at 3am with a torch, desperately trying to find him. I’d tried to end the relationship, and he’d taken an overdose. On another occasion, I had to physically break into his house because he’d shut himself in his bedroom and slit his wrists.
When I got in, there was blood all over the bedsheets and he’d overdosed on alcohol and pills. “It’s your fault I’ve cut myself,” he said. Through coercive control and manipulation, he’d basically wiped away the person I used to be so there was just a skeleton left.
Because of his issues with drugs and alcohol, he got kicked out of his house and came to live with me in my family home. He used this to persuade me to move in with him. For the six weeks it took us to find a flat, I cried every night in the bath to my mum saying I didn’t want to go. But I knew I had to: he had nowhere to live and promised me he’d change.
Within a week of us moving in, I found cocaine on the kitchen sides. Over the first few weeks, he smashed glass candles over my head, set fire to my clothes and threatened to set fire to me. I was a wreck, there was nothing left of me.
Still, I couldn’t leave. I was petrified of what he’d do and was so worried he’d kill himself, leaving me with his death on my conscience forever. He’d isolated me so much from my friends and family, I’d been made to believe he was the only one that would be there for me. The control and manipulation that comes from being in an abusive relationship is so severe it almost paralyses you. It was like an onion, every layer had been taken away one by one. After seven years, I was a broken ghost of the Emma I used to be.
My final attempt to leave him came after an incident in which he’d raped and beaten me. I had bruises all over my chest and ribs, and he’d smashed our entire bedroom to pieces. When he went out that evening, I thought I’d be safe for the night. Whenever he went on a binge, he wouldn’t come home, so I thought I had time. I packed up some of my stuff and planned to leave first thing in the morning. I’d even told my mum and sister it was over and I was coming home. But at 4am, he came back, drunk out of his mind, with one of his friends and started beating me.
I remember sitting in front of the wardrobe door with my arms curled up over my head, just trying to protect my head and face. His friend managed to pull him off me, and physically restrained him so I could get out. He caught me as I was leaving, and pushed me down the stairs. I kept thinking, “I just need to get to the car”. Fortunately, I managed to jump through the car window and drive off. And when I got five minutes down the road, I had to stop the car. All I could think was, “Oh my god I could have died.” It was my moment of realisation.
Although I went to the police and he was arrested, I dropped the charges out of fear of what he’d do. I didn’t want to live with the guilt of having his death on my conscience. He even made brutal threats about my family and friends. I’d rather he hurt me than them. To this day they still don’t know this as I always tried to protect them.
I left him on March 29, and on April 5 he hanged himself. I found him at the flat and couldn’t cope with the grief, as well as the hate campaign his family and friends started against me. They said his death was my fault, that they wouldn’t stop until it was my body on a slab. I had no choice but to move house, change cars twice and in the end, relocate miles away from my family to ensure my own safety.
It’s now been four years since he died and for the first three, I can’t tell you how hard my life was. I felt so alone and isolated. I believed I was a murderer because that’s what he’d drilled into me. Considering suicide myself, I wanted a way to end the pain.
We were together for seven years, but for the last 10 years of my life he’s controlled me even from the grave. It wasn’t until a year after his death, when I started working at a women’s refuge, that I realised exactly what he’d done to me.
Now I'm in a far better place. Coming away from it and seeing things in a different light has taught me I'm not to blame, that it was his choice. I feel angry with him now because he's left me to deal with all that crap.
The word suicide still gives me shivers, but I've learned to be in control of it. It's been a constant daily battle within myself, but I’ve fought to use my trauma to help others that are in similar situations. There are so many people that need to know suicide is not their fault. The pain is raw and real, and takes a ridiculously long time to come to terms with, but there is hope.
My inspiration is to help other women realise that it is hell, you will have dark days, you will sob so much your body aches and it's a physical pain to even cry in the end. But you can rebuild your life, your self-esteem and your confidence. It’s not an easy journey, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone, but you can do it.
Emma adds:
"There are still far too many stigmas around domestic abuse and sadly too many people judge survivors and ask ‘why they didn’t leave?’ Suicide is a means of coercive control and is very commonly used in domestic abuse relationships. We ask that next time you think, pause and ask yourself what can you do to help, rather than asking someone why they stayed."
To donate to Emma's refuge in Surrey, visit their fundraising page. For support call National Domestic Abuse Helpline on 0808 2000 247.
('You Might Also Like',)
