Ruth's story: 'The first time he really physically hurt me was when he bit my cheek'
"I thought I could fix him."
When I met the man who was going to eventually put me in hospital, several times over, I was simply infatuated.
He was older than me by just over four years. He was working full-time in a pretty decent job and I was in college.
He seemed so much more mature than my college boyfriends; he had his own car, he lived out of home, he had his own money, he made me feel important and special.
When I look back now, the warning signs were there from probably the second month of our relationship. I didn't see them, I didn't understand his sometimes erratic behaviour – I assumed it was my fault – after all he told me as much and I had nothing to compare it to.
He was my second ever serious boyfriend.
My experience of dating abuse manifested itself in controlling behaviour usually coupled with bouts of aggression and lots of overzealous spoiling with gifts, fancy dinners and weekends away to compensate.
The aggression was verbal at first, then physical…he would grab me so hard that I would be left with bruises all along my upper arms.
He said he needed to get my attention, that I wasn't listening or understanding him and this was the only way he knew how.
He had been abused himself as a child, his older brother used to torment him, control him and nobody stuck up for him, they allowed it to happen. So you see he didn't mean it, he was always sorry afterwards, he would just lose control momentarily, he never meant it because he loved me.
I blamed his childhood and sometimes on nights out I blamed alcohol, but more often than not I blamed myself – I had provoked him. I knew what would push his buttons but I couldn't help myself, I always wanted to be the centre of attention.
I hid the bruises, I changed in my bedroom, I wore a robe to and from the bathroom, I chose my clothes carefully until the marks had faded. I used a lot of vitamin E and Arnica cream.
After a few months, his dislike for my friends and family members became apparent. To avoid conflict I started to see my friends separately to nights with him, it was easier that way.
They were too immature for him, I could see that.
However, when we saw more of his friends that became a problem too; I was flirting with them, I didn't know my place, I was leading them on and it was so embarrassing for him.
The verbal abuse became worse, the controlling behaviour – he no longer liked me going out with my friends: they were trying to turn me against him, they were in the same clique that they'd been in all their lives, they didn't want me to date an outsider, they were trying to control me.
The first time he really physically hurt me was when he bit my cheek. We were out at a gig, he came back from the toilet and I was talking to a guy at the bar. He dragged me away from the bar with a death stare and strong armed me back to our seats.
When the lights dimmed and the show started again he leaned in to me – I thought he was going to kiss me and say he was sorry, instead he bit me hard on my cheek.
I was shocked.
I couldn't move, I was rooted to my seat, my heart beating so fast, my stomach feeling like I was going to be sick. I sat through the rest of the show with my face in my hands, quietly crying.
We got a taxi to my home, he apologised profusely he couldn't control himself, he needed help, he needed my help.
The cycle of jealousy, controlling behaviour, black and white thinking, irrational behaviour, cynical attitude, verbal abuse and physical abuse continued for more than 10-years of our relationship.
He called me every cruel and derogatory name known to man, he broke my cheekbone twice, gave me several black eyes, concussion, split lips, countless bruises.
How could I leave someone who needed me so much, who loved me so much that it hurt?
I couldn't leave him, not when everyone else who had been important in his life had practically deserted him in his hour of need.
I tried to understand his behaviour, so did he, he didn't want to feel the way he did.
He wanted to get better, we visited doctors, psychologists, hypnotists, energy healers and more. We tried everything.
There would be good times, a few weeks or even months at a time and I'd think we were on the right track, but then it could all fall apart over the smallest thing.
Anything could set him off.
It was scary to watch his eyes flash, his fists clench, his jaw tighten.
I'd always try to diffuse it, sometimes it worked and I'd hear about it later in a verbal screaming match which would usually end with me hyperventilating on the floor and a punched wall, sometimes I would be the punching bag.
Other times the poor individual who crossed him would receive a barrage of verbal and sometimes physical abuse.
And nobody knew of my emotional and physical scars.
I was an expert actress, leading a double-life, putting on my game-face for my friends, my family, my work colleagues. I hid the physical abuse with tales of clumsy accidents and car crashes.
How could I tell anyone? They wouldn't understand how I still needed to be with him, he needed me to get better.
Sure they'd all warned me, but I thought I could fix him.
That's why I married him: to provide security to him and our relationship.
I thought it would help bring back the good times.
But it didn't, I couldn't fix him because he was mentally ill, his abusive behaviour and distorted thinking was indeed a product of his family environment growing up, but he had a mental illness too.
The night I saw him lose complete control was the night he put his hands around my neck and didn't release them like before.
I couldn't breathe.
It was the first time I had a the realisation that he could kill me.
That's when I left him. The children couldn't lose their mum. I couldn't leave them in his care.
I rang a solicitor and she advised me to apply for a protection order straight away.
I applied in the family court, on my own, and I got it. He had to leave the house and then I told my family.
I wish I had seen the signs sooner. I wish I had sought help sooner. I wish I had found the courage to walk away sooner.
And now, every time I hear a news story on the radio or read it in the newspaper of a woman being found dead, or a woman and her children, I wonder how long she had been experiencing abuse within her relationship.
I am safe, my children are safe but how many more are not?
If you know someone is experiencing emotional, psychological or physical abuse, let them know you are worried for them and that you are there for them.
Don't judge or offer ultimatums, you could push them away and they will never open up to you.
Tell them that when they are ready, you will be there for them in whatever way they want you to be. Above all, tell them that the behaviour they are experiencing is wrong and that nobody deserves to be treated in this way.
Of all people, I know you cannot make someone leave a relationship if they are not ready to do so.
But you can still be there for them and point them in the direction of support services they can use to help themselves, when they are ready.
Abusive behaviour is nearly always a pattern of getting power and control over someone else.
Validating a victim’s choices and encouraging them to make their own decisions about their life can help to break this cycle of power and control.
If you or anyone you know has been affected by Ruth's story, please visit www.whatwouldyoudo.ie
