The Ultimate Betrayal.

 

“You will never have a meaning in anyone’s life” these are just some of the words I have heard from someone that was supposed to be my friend.

Now for this post, lets name this person ‘Lily’. As I do not want to mention real names to avoid any drama. (People don’t like to take responsibility for their actions).

Abuse, whether its psychological, physical, sexual or financial is not talked about enough when it comes to friendships. When you mention the fact that you have experienced abuse people usually jump straight into thinking that it was an abusive relationship, or it was done by family. Well not in this case, unfortunately I have experienced this in a friendship.

At the very beginning of the friendship things seemed normal, but as time went by, I started to feel uncomfortable. I started to ask myself questions if being treated this way is normal in a friendship but, this was my first friendship since I moved to Ireland, so I didn’t know any better.

Lily most definitely had her own problems going on, her mood changed almost instantly from good to bad and vice versa. Things were fine one second then the next second, I was afraid to speak, move or even breathe too loud. I was constantly shouted at; for things like not putting something on her desk the right way, for not being able to carry out a task she asked me to do fast enough, for speaking too much or for not speaking at all. Lily wouldn’t just shout any words; they were words that were hateful and painful. I don’t know how explicit I can be on this site, but some of the examples are being called a “f*cking ret*rd”, being told I can’t do anything right, the threat of “just watch” or just simply being told that I’m stupid.

 There was no chance of me ever being able to stand up for myself, without being told I’m cheeky and ‘growing wings. I was quite literally told to not speak unless I’m spoken to. Some of you might wonder why did I not just leave the premises when this started to happen? Sometimes I did, I went home just to find a hateful paragraph in my messages almost every time. Instead of the apology that I deserved Lily would tell me how much she hated me, how much of a stupid ba*tard I was, how I will never have a meaning in anyone’s life and how everyone else around us also said this about me. Stupidly I apologised as I constantly felt the need to apologise as I was exhausted and just wanted it to be over.

I vividly remember buying Lily little gifts without an occasion because I felt that by doing this maybe she will like me more and maybe she won’t treat me as bad. It worked… maybe for that day only.

It might seem like it was just words, but it wasn’t just words. I was in a constant fight or flight mode. I had to do everything perfectly; go over to her house whenever she wanted, follow her anywhere she wanted to go at any time, complete any task she asked me to do, sleepover at her house whenever. At some point she stopped asking, she just expected these things. I couldn’t refuse. If I even tried to refuse it was either the hateful words or the silent treatment.

Everything in my life started to feel like hell including school, I felt like I was living life just to please Lily. To cut it, short missing days of school wasn’t an option or I would feel the consequences of it the next day.

 I started to become afraid of everything, I would set an alarm on my phone for every morning to be prepared for whatever she wanted. I was afraid of everything; I was afraid to sit in the wrong space in her room, because for some reason I was only allowed to sit on the edge of her bed or on the floor. I was afraid to say the wrong thing, I was afraid to not finish my food as I was shouted at to do so because apparently even if I was full, I was wasting her food. I was afraid to refuse to sleep over.

 I didn’t want to follow her around or hang out 24/7, I was simply uncomfortable. I mean, who would be comfortable around someone who constantly insults them?

 Moving onto the insults; it wasn’t just being told how stupid I am, it was also being told not to wear certain clothes, it was being told I should be able to hear better because my ears are so big, being told I have a big head, being told I should do something different with my appearance because I always looked the same. I was constantly being told I smell bad no matter how many times I had showered, but coming over to her house I was not allowed to wear perfume as it made her feel sick.

I never really knew what to expect being around a person like this. There was a time I would say one word that triggered her, and I was told to leave and had my shoes thrown out the front door and the door shut in my face. Being shouted at on the street and I was left feeling so embarrassed. Having my phone checked regularly to monitor what I am doing, being Woken up in the morning 8am to go to the grocery shop to help her carry food shopping to her house and after being told “you can go now” just made me feel like some sort of servant.

With time, living like this just became more difficult and other people around us would laugh and call me her ‘puppy’ or ‘follower’ without knowing what was really going on. I tried to befriend other people as a way of escaping, but I was never able to hang out with anyone else without telling her about it first. I was at a very weird point in my life where I would drink alcohol excessively at parties until I would either pass out or cry. I cried almost every time I had alcohol because it made all the supressed feelings come to the surface. Day after day I would wake up every morning just dreading the day ahead of me. If she didn’t go somewhere I couldn’t go either, if she didn’t like something I couldn’t like it either, I couldn’t be my own person, and that is not the life I wanted to live.

As a lot of you know I am a lesbian, and always have been😆.

Now how did I manage not being heterosexual around someone this narcissistic? The answer is I didn’t manage at all. I came out to her at a young age maybe 14. I can’t exactly remember. At first, she seemed fine with it, until she got into a bad mood, and I was called a dyke and made to feel bad for being gay. I didn’t want to feel this way anymore, so I told her I was just joking; she asked me to swear to God and regretfully I did. I was not able to be myself, I was afraid, so I pretended for years after this to be straight up until I could somewhat get away when I started university.

Did it ever get physical? I can remember the times that it did. Going home to run my fingers through my hair removing the hair she had pulled out, being punched and falling back into a door at a party in which everyone then made me seem like a psychopath because I stood up for myself. I remember this day so well. Funnily enough, all I did was ask if she liked one of the guys at the party and then I remember being hit for that. I cried, I shouted and got mad, so they told me to leave; it was late, and my phone was dead. I sat down in a laundry shop not too far away from the place just wondering what I was going to do next. Somehow, she came looking for me, and in a nice calm voice asked me to come back to the party with her; told me that she would fix my makeup, hugged me and told me she will never do it again.

 

Many of these events still affect my daily life, I guess therapy just wasn’t enough😅. Having trust issues, being hyper aware of what I am doing to not mess something up, having a guard up and constantly feeling the need to apologise even without doing anything wrong are some trauma responses that have stuck with me.

There are people out there that knew about this, people who personally came to me and told me that they can see what is going on. There are people I spoke to about this with a heavy heart, not knowing what to do. In my opinion, standing by and watching it happen makes you just as guilty. Nobody has the right to treat another individual this way. Nobody has the right to belittle you or put their hands on you. None of this is normal and abuse doesn’t have to be just hitting, punching and kicking it can also be your words, which can lead someone to take their own life. Thankfully, I had enough strength to finally walk away and better myself and my future.

During all those years there was all types of maltreatment, and this is maybe 50% of the whole story. There are a couple of events I cannot speak about as they involve the individual’s personal life. I am not writing this post to expose anybody; I am writing it to tell my story and raise awareness.