I have a boyfriend (soon to be ex) he's a genuinely nice guys, but I see him as a friend. Anyway, he died his hair red and the moment I saw it, my friends say my face went white. I felt clammy, nauseous and anxious upon seeing his new dyed hair. I couldn't find my voice for quite a few minutes. It was like my voice was taken away. When he asked if I liked it, I just snapped that I hated. He explained that it was for cancer (which his mom suffers from) a sweet sentimental thought, but I couldn't ahalethe anxiety and I couldn't figure out why. By lunch, my friend reminded me of why I dislike the colour. (Imagine a dark red basically) 

My ex-boyfriend has that same colour hair. I remember I just kinda burst into tears. I'm not over my ex, which is hindering my relationships. Not because I loved him but because of the shit he put me through. The mental, physical and psychological abuse he put me through for a whole year and a half. I guess to help me understand that (and talk to my therapist about tomorrow) I'm writing it here. So here's that relationship.

We got together January 1, 2015. A guy found me genuinely pretty. That was a first! (Turns out he used the same lines on my friend before she rejected him lmao) I felt pretty with him. He treated me like his princess, gave me cute nicknames, gave me surprises. This was the first few weeks. 

He then sat me down and we had a heart to heart conversation. He told me he had BPD, PTSD, Depression and anxiety. I told him I had PTSD, depression and anxiety as well. He then said that us talking saved him when he was planning on killing himself. When he said that I asked him, so if we didn't start dating would he be alive? He told me no. That was the first dagger into my already scarred heart. I didn't think much of that statement at first. He would tell me I belong to him and only him. That no one would love me like he loved me.

As we continued to date, he was more on the downward side than the happy side. Which.....I honestly don't know which was scarier. The extreme highs or extreme lows. The extreme lows consisted of his anger, depression. When low he was suicidal, cutting. He would beat up a punching bag, or if at school, he'd punch lockers, get into fights. On the other hand, the extreme highs, he was loving, happy. But also extremely sexually driven. He would be all kiss-y, gave me attention. But he also became more demanding. Wanting sex, to touch me. He would grope me, finger me, no matter where we were. He'd demand I wear dresses so he could do what he wanted. And I would oblige, because like he said, he loved me. I was a pathetic 10th grader, craving love from someone, anyone to help me feel like a normal teen. Those highs became a problem when he'd demand stuff at strange places. His car, my home, his living room... school. And I struggled to say no. Because he loved me. It became an even bigger problem when he wanted me to wear a vibrator pretty much all the time. Which was completely embarrassing. The lows were also bad. He would ignore me, distance himself, get angry at me over mundane issues. Demanded I tell him where I was 24/7. Tell him who I was with and if I was with friends, he demanded pictures to show that I was with girls only. When I asked why he would ignore me, he would just say, "you deserve it. Figure it out". It was horrible. But on the other hand he became physically aggressive. If we got into a fight, he'd get furious, throw things, punch things....hit me. We got into fights over little things and he'd blow up. He threw a textbook at the wall behind me one fight. He started choking me and assaulting me. All because I was sitting close to a guy friend. His parents came into the room after hearing his commotion. They found us, me on the floor, protecting my face, sobbing. Him sitting on me, punching and screaming. His dad tore him away and his mom helped me clean up, begging me to not call the police on her baby. He was struggling. I agreed. His parents gave me money to keep quiet and pretend everything was fine. I agreed. With his mom's help, she hid the bruises on my body. I asked if I could go home. He agreed and we were heading to my home. He pulled into the woods and....that's the day I lost my virginity to him. I hated it. 

Anyway, 6 months into the relationship, I was ready to call it quits. I sat him down and he started crying. Saying he'd kill himself if I broke up with him. He told me no one would love me like he did if I left him. He demanded an apology. In a panic, I apologized. I didn't want him to die because of me. He was right. No one would love me because of what I've gone through like he would. So I apologized and as punishment, he was allowed to have my body. To do what he would want to. No fighting. He got pictures, videos and did what he wanted if you get the image. Another 6 months go by and my friend finally notices me acting different. IIhad fresh cuts on my arm, which I put there. Having dozens of mental breakdowns a day, flinching when people touched me or lifted their hands, flinched at loud noises and arguing. he forced me to distance myself from my friends. If I didn't, he threatened my families safety. (Despite my mom and I arguing, threaten her, I'll listen) she pulled me aside and asked what was happening. I gave her my number and told her I'll text her everything. I told her everything and sent her pictures of the bruises. She helped me gain the courage the break up with him. I finally sat him down, told him I was breaking up with him. He used the same threats on me and I forced myself to ignore it. He threatened my mom and dogs safety. I ignored it. I stood up and left, called my friend to pick me up and cried in her car on our way to Publix to get ice cream and cleaning supplies. She helped clean me up while I cried, eating ice cream. 

For about a month after my bravery, I saw his car everywhere near me. Out of panic I called the police and I haven't seen his car since. I don't honestly know if he's alive, dead or locked up in a prison/asylum. And honestly, I couldn't care less. As harsh as that sounds (in my head it feels so mean.) A whole year or sexual, mental and physical abuse is enough to scar a young girl. 

I get so mad at myself over this stupid relationship. i should've been stronger (mentally and physically. For context, he was 6'4 and pure muscle, I am 5'9, and fairly skinny) I blame myself so much for this year long torture. I decided to stay. I decided to help "cure" him when he needed help. I ignored the signs of abuse, chalking it up to his BPD and love. If I wasn't so desperate, I wouldn't have been with him. I should've just said no. And I hate myself for the fact that I didn't. That I was a stupid kid. 

All of this because of a hair colour? Yes. My current bf's hair is the exact colour of my ex's hair. And I think this has made me aware of just how unready I am for a relationship. Is there anyway to just, move past the abuse I endired?

Thanks, 

Cry