I just. Have to talk about this somewhere so I might as well make that tumblr. CW for physical violence, suicide ideation, disordered eating, pictures showing blood and injuries.
On the 7th of May 2023, my ex-boyfriend (N) physically assaulted me.
He had broken up with me on April 9th, but he continued to say he loved me, kissed me, and we were even physically intimate twice leading up to May 7th. He had called me "my love" as late as May 2nd, so we were for all intents and purposes on good, if confusing, terms.
May 7th was prom. We had gotten tickets several months prior, and our entire group of mutual friends was going, so we decided to both attend. I was at the time struggling with an eating disorder, and had lost an unhealthy amount of weight in very little time (around 9kgs in a little less than a month - I went from 62.8 to 54.4). On the day of I'd only had a coffee for breakfast, and at the prom dinner itself had a single slice of skagen toast.
Prom was awkward and uncomfortable and I wanted to leave almost as soon as I'd set foot there. There was free alcohol, and I drank five glasses of wine. I'm a lightweight, who can barely handle two on a good day. At around 22.00, N made to leave the function. He was upset about something, which he hadn't been earlier (we had sat at the same table) and I to this day don't know what.
He made it clear I shouldn't follow him, that I should "stay and have fun". I didn't listen. I ran after him, and as he'd gotten a head start I took off my heels to try to catch up. I ran, barefoot, crying, over gravel and at some point broken glass. These were not rational actions. They were fueled by emotion and alcohol. I regret them every damn day.
At some point, I called him, begging him to wait for me, and he grew angry at me and hung up. I called a second time, telling him that I was lost and scared and sorry, that it was dark and cold and that my feet hurt. He was getting increasingly irate, and eventually came to find me. I'd wandered onto the road, which was thankfully devoid of cars, and collapsed, on the verge of either fainting or throwing up, or both.
N picked me up, threw me over his shoulder, which almost made me vomit, and carried me to something nearby where I could sit. It wasn't a bench, I think it was stone steps. He picked the glass and gravel from my feet. I noticed at this point that the blood from my soles had splattered all the way up to my knees. After having somewhat patched up my feet, we realized I was missing a shoe.
It was here that he began shouting at me. I don't remember what he said, only that he was furious that I'd "put myself in this situation". I was crying, hyperventilating, and feeling equal parts shame and guilt. I will genuinely never understand why he did not call either an Uber or honestly an ambulance here. It is worth noting that he was sober, and considerably larger and stronger than me - 196cm tall, ate properly and worked out regularly.
Either way we walked to the nearest tram station together. Here, he told me that he did not love me anymore, that my actions that night had crossed a line and that he'd stopped loving me after the second time I'd called. This made me more distraught. We argued, and continued to argue on the tram. At one point, he "snapped", grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me so roughly a passerby intervened to tell him off.
We reached the station we were supposed to change trains at, and I do not know why we went on the same one, towards his place. A lot of the night is honestly blurry to me, I remember the general chronology of events and some specific occurences, but there is a lot that's unclear to me and I'll probably never really know.
On this tram, he was very spiteful, but did not harm my physically. He said he despised me for putting him in this situation, and when I started sobbing at that he told me to stop causing a scene. He also heavily insinuated I'd be better off dead, or at least that's how I understood his words, and that was really triggering. Either way, at this point I had sort of shut down, I was really hurt. This was someone I used to call my best friend, the person I thought I was going to marry. I felt betrayed, but more than anything I blamed myself for the situation.
We got off at his station. I was having trouble standing upright and walking because of the injuries on my feet plus still being very intoxicated. Here, only now, N booked an Uber for me. After having done so, he looked me up and down and said, "I am going to go home and try to forget that this version of you ever existed." and BOOPED MY NOSE.
This action sent me into downright hysterics. I wobbled forward, grabbing the lapels of his tuxedo in part to steady myself and in part because, well, what the fuck. I just remember asking over and over, "Why would you do that?", my voice breaking. He grabbed my wrists, wrenching my hands away, and told me to not touch him. His fingers left bruises.
The Uber he'd ordered cancelled, and his phone had died by this point, so he decided the best course of action was that we'd go to his place, so he could charge his phone and get a new ride for me. We reached his house, and he let himself in via the basement door. He told me to wait outside. I stood there shaking, no jacket, feet bleeding, shivering and crying in my prom dress, and begged him to let me in. Obviously not to stay the night, just so that I wouldn't be alone outside in the cold, in the dark, in an area I was completely unfamiliar with.
N refused and made to close the door, and I grabbed it (maybe by the handle?), weeping and begging, again not thinking, just, desperate to not be left there. He pushed me off it with such force that I went flying backwards and cracked my head on the pavement. He slammed the door, I just lay there dazed, flickering in and out of consciousness.
Eventually, a car pulled up and N opened the door, picked me up and scooped me into it. I somehow made it back home. The following day, I woke up to find myself blocked by him on everything. I attempted suicide, failed, and ended up seeking help. Following my head injury, I had symptoms of what I believe to be a concussion, but I did not consult a medical professional because I didn't want N to get in trouble. I also did not tell our mutual friends, who ended up "choosing" him because they'd known him longer.
Here are some pictures of my injuries
The blood splatters on my legs from running barefoot
The bruises from when he grabbed my wrist
My eyes following the head injury, why I suspected a concussion
I don't really know why I'm making this post. I guess I just want to say what happened wasn't fair. And that healing is really fucking hard. I still have nightmares about what happened. I wake up every morning in a puddle of my own sweat, shaking, heart beating frenetically, and I want it to stop. I'm so fucking tired. He is not the first person I cared about to physically hurt me, and he knows all about that too, but at least my mom apologizes. I hate this.
