Let's all say FUCK YOU! to assholes who beat up their loved ones!

All together now! :mad:

FUCK YOU to assholes who beat up their loved ones - physically, emotionally, sexually, whatever it was…
FUCK YOU to men (and women) who hit their spouse, their girlfriend, their boyfriend, their children… their parents…
FUCK YOU to those who need to feel that kind of power over someone else
FUCK YOU to those who choose to ignore “No.”
FUCK YOU to those who walk away and are never punished for doing the harm they’ve done.
FUCK YOU to those who leave behind women, children (and men!) who feel guilty, broken, unloveable… and who hurt, deeply, sometimes for the rest of their lives.
FUCK YOU to those who leave the scars - both visible and invisible.
FUCK YOU to those who make others lose their sense of self, their sense of worth, their identity through violence, manipulation, and threats.
FUCK YOU to those who hurt others, just because they can.
FUCK YOU to those who leave behind all the questions: “Why me? Why now? What have I done to deserve this? Who am I? What have I done? Will this happen again?”
FUCK YOU to those who wear down another person’s ability to trust.
FUCK YOU to those who wear down another person’s ability to love and to be loved.
FUCK YOU to those who leave behind all this pain and suffering.

Hopefully, someday, those of us who have been through it can say a healthy FUCK YOU YOU HAVE NO HOLD OVER ME ANYMORE. For good.

We’ll get there. It’s the good fight. Fight it with all you’ve got.

Once more, with feeling!

In the past two weeks, two women I know have been put in the hospital by people who claim to “love” them. Both the fuckers who did it are now in jail.

NOBODY should ever beat up someone they claim to love, and NOBODY should ever go back to them.

And a hearty FUCK YOU to any such person who says " IT’S YOUR FAULT. YOU MADE ME DO IT. IT WON’T HAPPEN AGAIN. I’LL CHANGE."

Amen.

(Way to go, Elly.)

I know I am going to get flamed for this but here goes. Many years ago I was abusive to the lady I was living with. I don’t mean like a one time flare up, I mean over a couple of years. She was abusive too, we sort of fed off each other. I ended up in jail. In the long run it was the best thing that ever happenned to me. I got help (I admit by court order) and came to realize what was really going on. I swear to og I did not at the time have a clue as to how abusive I was. It took a lot of counseling and time to come back to reality. Sure she was abusive. That is her baggage, let her carry it, I got plenty of my own and her actions were no excuse for my actions. Today I am married to a wonderful lady, got twenty years together and going strong.

The thirty day "anger management " thing is a joke. It took me over two years of counseling to see the light. To this day, occasionally in times of high stress I use the EAP (Employee Assistance Program) Read 24/7 free counseling…to have an impartial person remind me my actions are my own, and if I choose to act foolishly, I am responsible, no one else. If another chooses to act foolishly I can walk away and let them look foolish.

So I say to the OP right on, but don’t put up with it! Have the asshole arrested! Sometimes it is the only way a bone-headed idiot such as my self can wake up and realize it is just WRONG from any direction.
I will now contact the mods and tell them I was not intoxicated, but please remove the post anyway…

You’re not going to get flammed - you’ve “seen the light”, as it were. You’re getting help, when you feel yourself hitting that boiling point. I can’t fault you for that. Precious few people with violent temperaments choose to go the route you decided to take.

I had my asshole arrested, yes - years ago, but I’m still struggling with the aftermath now.

May I add emotional and verbal abuse as well? My grandfather may or may not have hit my grandmother (although we believe he may have once or twice), but he is certainly an emotional, verbal, and psychological bully, to my grandmother (who died recently) and to my dad and his siblings as well. I blame him largely for the depression and nervous breakdown that lead to her shutting down.

I worked for a couple of years in a battered women’s shelter, but eventually, the frustration got to me. I couldn’t keep myself emotionally distant, I suppose. It tore out my heart every time when I saw a woman leave the safe-house to return to her abuser. I remember literally begging on my knees to one woman not to return, vowing that she could come and live with me and I’d find her a job and we’d figure out some way to get her kids back . . . No, she went back. I still wonder how she’s doing.

My experiences made me have a burning hatred for abusers. After I left the shelter, I saw my aunt go through it. Her husband escalated from years of verbal abuse to physical. (Guess he decided it was time to take the next step in destroying this woman’s psyche.) Every time I heard her make excuses why it wasn’t so bad that he had nearly put out her eye, or hit her so hard that her bidgework broke, I felt so frustrated I almost wanted to hit her myself. No matter how bad his treatment of her became, she wouldn’t leave, convinced he would change back to the way he was right after they married when they were happy. (Mind you, a decade had passed since this time, where he just kept getting meaner and meaner.)

I am ashamed to admit it, but I walked away. Nothing I did would convince her. I got her in touch with some old friends from the shelter and just walked away. I couldn’t take the emotional upheaval and longer. I felt myself getting angry at her, a beautiful, intelligent woman, letting herself be treated this way, turning off her brain in order to make excuses for the piece of shit who was destorying her, who had destroyed her kids’ lives with impunity.

It ended badly, of course. I still carry an immense amount of guilt. Intellectually, I know that there was nothing I could have done but emotionally, I’m tormented by the notion that maybe if I had tried this, or* that* things might have worked out differently.

Elenfair, I’m so glad you managed to escape that hell. Be proud of your strength.

Lissa - there comes a time when you HAVE to walk away. And that’s probably the hardest things for friends and family who see it happening - being powerless to stop it, being unable to convince the person who is being abused that they should leave. There’s such a complex set of factors at play… so difficult to handle… :frowning:

For many who have been in those situations, you can’t really see out of them at all. So you make excuses, to make yourself feel better. The power they hold over you is intense, and all-encompassing. Abusers break people down, to the point where they’re depersonalized - living their lives as if they’re watching it unfold before them, with little control over what happens. It’s a tragedy - one suffered by way too many people - women, men, children alike.

It did “end badly” for me. And apparently that’s what it took to get me out. I’m glad I am out now, and in a loving, wonderful relationship. It’s surprisingly hard to put it all behind me. Some things linger, for years and years… but I won’t let it hold me down. I can’t. If I do, he wins.

thanks for the kind words, and you hit the nail right on the head, “Getting help” I am not cured. A violent temper is not something you can cure, it is like diabetes, either you manage it or it manages you. I just know that it is worth the effort to do what it takes to not revert back to total asshole. (My wife might argue I should work harder,) That is why I said the thirty day anger management classes are a joke. It takes a lifelong effort to not be that kind of person anymore. I can say I am a whole lot happier now, and have twenty years of proof that it is worth the effort. The abusive woman I referenced in my previous post is not the woman I am married to. I have not seen or spoken to her in fifteen years. I hope she is having a good life, but please let her have it far away from me. We did not bring out the best in each other.

And what you said is true, the physical wounds heal and the scars go away or we learn to hide them, but the emotional scars are forever.

I’m joining in! FUCK YOU ABUSERS!

My cousin in India was abusing his wife. My own first cousin! I was so disgusted and yet there’s not much recourse there. Except my aunt figured out a way. She paid for the girl to go to beautician school, the girl eventually opened up her own shop, and since she’s bringing more money home than him now he no longer dares to lift his hand. It’s still not a happy marriage - how in hell could it be - but at the very least she stands her ground now and has grown a pair. YAY!

I’m happy for you. I only wish my aunt could have had this chance. She killed herself two years ago, hence the guilt.

I know it’s not rational. I* know* that. Knowing it doesn’t help, though. Not only do I have the guilt associated with the battered women’s aspect (I had professional training, dammit! Surely I could have . . .) but I also have a nice heaping helping of the guilt that family members of suicides always have. (I should have seen the signs. I should have known . . .) I feel that I abandoned her in her darkest hours simply because I was too frustrated to deal with it.

Guilt, no matter the form, hurts like a bitch. I’m so sorry about your aunt. There truly was nothing more you could have done. Eventually, it DOES boil down to the fact that they (we, whatever) have to make the choice for themselves.

You can only do so much before you have to sit back, wait, pray, sacrifice small furry rabbits or goats to the gods of whatever… Doesn’t make it any easier, and it doesn’t make the guilt go away, I know.

Elenfair
Having received a lot of abuse in my childhood, I will also offer to all abusers out there, wherever they are, a hearty …

*FUCK YOU !!!
*

Fuck you to adult step-children who allow us to be part of your lives during the period when you need someone to love and nurture your children, pick them up at school, babysit with them on long weekends, love them as if they were our own flesh and blood grandchild – and then cut us out of all of your lives with no real explanation.

Both as a real person and a love goddess, I say a very sincere, very heartfelt fuck you.

To child abusers: your day in hell is coming, you fucking bastards.

Fuck you, abusers. Fuck. You.

Twice for me. Twice. Engaged to both of them. And the second one I wasn’t going to leave, until he finally ran off with another woman. I take full responsibility for my own foolish actions by staying too long in those relationships, thinking I was in love with these assholes, but they take half of the blame, damnit. They take half for treating me like shit. Don’t tell me you “love” me by threatening to kill me, then convince me of your “love” by proving you really would. Ha ha, that’s funny, asshole. Don’t beg me to trust you, and never leave you, because no one else could ever love you, and no one else could ever love me, and then screw anything that glances your way the second the opportunity arises.

Maybe I am a coward. A spineless, frightened, foolish weakling. But so are both of you, bitches.

Note to self:

It’s time for your friendly reminder:

Stop renting space in your head to other people’s opinions of you.

I’m sorry anybody ever has to live with this and deal with it. Abuse is why I had to run away from home at 15. I could not take it for one more day. It took a lot of years to get some sense of normalcy in my life. I was saving up all this stuff I was going to say to him someday. I hadn’t seen him in 25 years, then he died. He died in such a spectacularly ugly way, I can only view it as karmic payback. Serves ya right, you despicable bastard.

If I seem abrasive at times, or unduly sarcastic, it’s because so much stuff happened to me that I never want to talk about, it’s my defense mechanism. I don’t wish to offend anyone. Underneath my gruff exterior, I’m a big softie. I’ve never so much as raised my voice to my wife, and I never will. She loves me extra for it, I’m sure.

Don’t take it. You don’t have to take it.

RAWR to all the posts of “FUCK YOU!”, and to the shared stories… Fishbicycle says it well: Don’t take it. You don’t have to take it.

Post a story, share a healthy “FUCK YOU!”, and keep your chin up.

I think all sorts of abuse are AOK. I also hate mothers, dogs, and apple pie.