(no subject)
If I could pinpoint a turning point in my life, it would have to me the time I left my fiancé of 3 years. I claimed my independence that day, and with the support of friends and family stood on my own two feet. It was about 2 years ago now, and it’s still vibrant in my memory.
I met Paul when I was 18, and if you’d have known me then, you’d never have guessed I’d turn out to be the person I am today. I was painfully shy, I had no confidence (as I had been suffering with depression since I was 15 years old), with one or two close friends and I was 6 stone heavier with long brown hair.
When I met Paul I was smitten. He seemed so interesting to me, we were always out at the pub, when he played pool I was there with him, every band practice I was there.
It was about 4 month into the relationship that my best friend Tori pointed out that we hadn’t seen each other for ages. I made up some excuse about it being the beginning of the relationship with Paul so we wanted to be together, and tried to make more of an effort with my friends. The truth was, Paul didn’t like my best her and didn’t like me being around her. I have known Tori since I was 10 and as always she instilled the little bit of confidence in me that I never though I had.
However, as time went by I was spending more and more time with Paul, and less with my friends. My confidence was so low. I thought I had to do anything I could to keep Paul as know-one else would ever want me. So regrettably I put my friends and even my family on the back burner and I moved in with Paul after 6 months.
By the time we’d been together for a year, Paul was at the pub every nigh, or drinking in the flat. His drinking was becoming a big problem for us. Especially as we were both working good full time permanent jobs, bringing in nearly 2 grand a month and we still couldn’t pay our bills. For a long time I put up with him coming in drunk every night the little put downs and insults he would slip into conversation, at times it felt as though he was programming me to feel worthless, and it was working.
In the second year we were together I met Kelly, she lived a few blocks from me, and was a good friend to Tori, I used to sneak round there for a coffee on an evening, and as you can imagine when my friends found out the I had to sneak around just to see them, they were quick to point out that something was wrong with the situation and the more thought I put into this, the more the problems bubble to the surface of my mind like soggy croutons.
When Paul would find out where I’d been Paul would deliberately pick an argument, saying he didn’t like my friends, and they were poisoning my mind against him, and he didn’t want me going to see them. But I couldn’t stop for the first time in years I felt as though I had a friends that I could rely on, when I was around them I felt confident, and happy. Sometimes we would laughed so hard I though I would pee were I stood. I felt elated by them and I wasn’t wiling to give that up. Within meeting Kelly and spending more time with Tori, I felt as though I didn’t need Prozac any more (something I had been relying on since I was 16) and I managed to wean my self off. Though, every chance he got, Paul tried to get me to start taking them again. . I think Paul could feel his control on me slipping, as I was no longer content being the girlfriend wiling to cook his meals waiting fro him to come back from the pub.
On the day I left, I was off work. I had decided to get up with Paul, and leave with him, and go to the shops and get something nice for tea, cook a nice meal, see if we could get back onto even ground. As it turns out I had left my keys that morning, so I went to Kelly’s house with the shopping and stayed there until 5 when I made my way back home, as Paul was due in and could open the door for me. I stood outside the building looking like a fool till about 6.30. No sign of him. I started to get worried, so as the pub was just across the road from the flat, I went there to use the phone, as I walked into the pub, there was Paul sitting far to close to a smartly dressed blonde girl from his office. The anger seared though me like a white hot laser. The realisation of what was happening rose up in my head like the proverbial suddenly-discovered bit of suspicious tentacle would just when you thought it was safe to eat the paella.
After Storming back home, with Paul hot on my heals pleading with me to calm down, I locked myself, in the bathroom. There was a pint glass in the side of the bath where he had had a drink the previous night. I picked it up, and made it the focus of my rage, I smashed it hard against the bath room tiles, and almost as if it was habit, grabbed the biggest piece of glass and dug it into my wrist, The uncomfortable emotions were making my blood itch and the familiar stinging sensation let the anger trickle away. However for the first time, this act didn’t comfort me. It scared me. I couldn’t stop the bleeding. The shame was pulsating in my head. I marched into the bedroom shaking Paul off me; I couldn’t hear what he was saying. I grabbed a change of clothes and made my way out of the front door.
As I scrambled through the front door into the corridor, our neighbours in the flats opposite were out watching the scene. As I was clumsily putting my trainers on I opened the double doors that led to the lift at the side of out flats, I had nothing left for him now, nothing except maybe pity. I was drained, left void of most my emotions, anger, frustration and fear. As I walked through those double doors on the day I left, the eyes of the other residents boring into me. Behind me I heard “after everything Kay, this is it?” I turned my head and looked into his eyes. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe; it felt all too surreal for me to believe it. Was I really leaving? All I could manage was “yes”. Three years of hurt, and all I could say was ‘yes’. As I walked through the doors the over powering stench of the bin cupboards filling my nostrils, my hair scraped back, one shoe on, another half on, Paul didn’t try to stop me. And through the tears streaming down my face and the blood that was flowing down my trembling hands, Was the biggest smile I have ever had.
That was the day that I learnt, that you can’t control what happens, but you can control how you feel about it, so instead of seeing this as the end the life I had come to know and a future of uncertainty, I would think of this as a future of opportunities, I would go back to college, and I wouldn’t have a voice in my ear telling me that there was no point and that I was too thick to do it. I would see my friends when I wanted, and I wouldn’t let anyone dictate my actions or control me to that extent again.