u/Gunnvor91

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Warning: very long tirade.

I was diagnosed with PTSD in around 2018. My first relationship was with my high-school boyfriend. He was abusive in every manner of the word; Emotionally, mentally, physically, sexually. I even survived him trying to strangle me.

After escaping that relationship, I got back into university, and went to the EU for an exchange. During my B.Sc, I met who was to become my future ex-husband. We were together for almost 8 years. During our relationship, I noticed that I had some weird behaviours, so I sought out therapy. I was terrified that my mental health would hurt him, and I told him as such. I didn't want him to pay the price for my past.

I then decided to move to the EU permanently to be with him and complete my degree.

I loved him dearly, but he betrayed me in the end. He and his friends degraded me behind my back, using my nationality as the butt of their jokes. He shared sexually explicit details about me, and even degraded other women he had been with in the past.

He blamed his behaviour on me. Said it was my PTSD and ADHD that made him do it. That these diagnoses were only methods of control. I'd opened up to him about these things because I thought I was safe. I was not. He told me he wished I'd never told him about any of these things. He also admitted that he manipulated me for his personal gain.

After my ex-husband left me - right after I discovered his betrayal and started a downward mental spiral - a friend of mine reached out to me.

We knew each other through our band. He was our lead guitarist, I was their vocalist. He was in a relationship. I recall asking him why he was suddenly reaching out to me as we had never been super close. He told me that he felt sorry for me because I was alone and he wanted to make sure I was alright. So we started to talk a lot. He would text me MASSIVE messages. So long that I would have to respond by first typing into a Word document to copy and paste as I simply couldn't keep up. I'd tell him it was too much. He'd apologize and then it would keep happening.

In any case, I was away for a work practicum at the time and we didnt see each other at all, except for the odd concert I'd drive out and perform for.

In this time, I was trying to somehow repair things with my soon-to-be ex husband. I'd ask this friend if his girlfriend was OK with him texting me so much as he would also often ask me very personal things.

In some cases, I could tell that he wasn't even writing the messages. His grammar would suddenly improve - something I picked up on very quickly because of particular verbs he never conjugated properly in previous messages were suddenly correct. In these discussions, he was always trying to interrogate me in a way. I confronted him on it a couple of times by simply responding "I read that article too", because I would simply copy and paste his messages into Google and poof! The article would appear. He would comment on me being very clever and finding it, but he wouldn't stop.

In any case, the practicum ended, and I returned to the city I was studying in. I held a party before the new semester started, and both he and my ex attended, along with our mutual friends. I remember a few moments where he seemed to try and have a moment of contact with me, but I tried to ignore it as a coincidence. After all, he had a girlfriend. She was also invited but didn't want to come.

He asked me that day if I needed help preparing dinner for everyone and I told him that I didn't. He arrived early anyways. Sometimes I wonder if he just wanted to get me alone?

Anyway, he was the last to leave the party and I remember him lingering at the door. I wished him farewell and closed the door. The next day, he texted me to ask and insist upon us having had a "moment" at the door. I told him that I was sorry if he read it that way, but that he has a girlfriend, and I respect that, as should he.

He wanted to meet and clarify things as friends. I agreed. Because I'm dumb.

He told me that he and his girlfriend were actually only roommates at this point. That they tried to fix things but weren't able to. He told me he fell for me and loved me since he met me. I told him I wasn't ready for anything like that. I then asked him if she knew where he was and he said he told her he was meeting with a potentially new band mate. I knew it was wrong but again, I'm stupid. I told him that as long as I'm still dealing with my feelings for my ex and he is with her, I wasn't interested in anything with him. That I could NEVER hurt another woman like that because I'd endured betrayal at the hands of other men and that nobody deserved that pain.

He agreed and we said goodbye.

My ex left me later. After constantly telling me he wouldn't do so. Told me he loved me and always would, but then he signed a contract for a new place thr very next day. He told me if I never spoke about his betrayal and just "moved on", we could fix things.

Then he walked out the door. I remember trying to keep my composure when friends were there helping him pack. He guilted me into helping him too. I remember packing his things into boxes and feeling like everything weighed a million tonnes. Like every closed box was a knife in my own heart.

As the door closed behind him, I collapsed to the floor and bawled my eyes out. Our home was now my mental prison and I was unbelievably alone.

This guitarist friend contacted me and said he cared about my pain and wanted to help me. I tried to commit suicide but chickened out. I was drinking a bottle of wine nearly every day to numb the pain.

He came over once to just show me how to use GuitarPro. We laughed a bit and then he left without incident. I assumed things were clear. He messaged me and said if I was sad about my ex, he would come over and we could watch a movie to get my mind off of it. I asked about his gf and if she was ok with it. He said she didn't care and that she met someone new anyway.

Again. I was stupid. He came over and the movie started. I was minding my business and keeping my distance. I was sitting on the couch I used to cuddle my ex on. I was thinking of him.

He suddenly started to grope me and I told him not to. He apologized and said he'd stop. I got scared and I don't know why I didn't kick him out. He tried again and managed to get my shirt off and I told him no again. He said OK again and said to me in his language "I shouldn't try again?". I told him no. Well, he did. And I can still hear Sweeny Todd playing in the background. I remember feeling fear that turned into absolute loathing. I wanted him to die. I wanted to die. And then I just tuned out. I remember feeling like I was far away. So sad that this was my life again. That I left one abusive person just to be abused by another.

I think I even willed myself to fall asleep. I don't really remember anymore.

I just know at one point, I felt his head. He shaved his head all of the time. I remember the texture.

He began getting super controlling over me. Possessive even. He would try to insist that he could do my job - that it didn't require any special skills. I worked in a lab doing PCRs. He tried to always be around me. If I went to band practice early, he'd show up early too so he could grope and hold me. I told myself I wanted it. I thought if I told myself that, I could somehow block out the pain.

Eventually I mentally broke. I confronted him. He admitted that he and his gf never broke up. I demanded to know why he didn't listen to me saying no. He told me that he thought it was just me playing "hard to get". The way he looked at me was like a shark. I always felt like I was being hunted. I can't describe it any other way. He could smile but his eyes were dead. His presence felt threatening. Like he was always trying to calculate and win something for himself, the question was just what.

I told him to stay away from me. I told him he was a rapist and I kicked him out of the band. I told my bandmates and they were supportive. He ended up stalking me a bit and sent me a letter to my new apartment. I got a no-contact order against him and told my lab group leader about the stalking because I was scared. Just in case he showed up.

I told my ex-husband what had happened. After the assault, I pushed him away. I felt so dirty and ashamed. We both cried and he said he'd be there for me and we both said we still loved each other. Guess who never showed up for me again? Just empty words. I was living in an apartment we shared for years. I'd sit there and it was like I could see the ghosts of our relationship in front of me. Reliving our happy memories. In the same room where I'd almost see my ex-huaband, I would see this rapist and what he did to me on that couch. I'd cry and drink some more alcohol.

I would see him around our small city once in a while and I'd get scared. I bought a camera for my apartment so I could make sure nobody came in.

I told my psychiatrist about it because I was seeing him for the ADHD medication anyway. He wasn't helpful. He played Devil's advocate. He told me that most men who do this sort of thing don't even realize what they've done. He also told me that my nearly 40-year old ex was not unusually immature for how he degraded me. That men talk like that.

I've tried to tell him that I'm depressed and scared. He dismisses me. So I've given up telling him.

Now, I'm away for my PhD. I've been otherwise fine. Focussing on my work. One of my colleagues shaved his head - which is obviously not a problem. But I looked at him and suddenly I could "feel" the texture of that guitarist's head. I can see his cold eyes. I remember the way he assaulted me. I recoil inside and try so hard not do dissociate. I tried to focus on a movie we were watching as a group. There was a scene with a sort of attempted forced sexual encounter, and I went back to that night again in my head.

I try so hard not to. And I want so badly to be able to be free of this pain and these memories. My psychiatrist doesn't help me. When I told him that I keep myself alive my staying around other people, he told me to just keep doing that. That it wasn't so bad after all. That if I really wanted to die, I would have done it by now.

I don't know what to do. I used to be a loving and happy person. I know I'm capable of love and connection. But the idea of sex actually scares me. I both long for it and fear it. I'm scared of a man's shaved head FFS.

I'm 35 years old and don't want to spend my life alone, but I'm likely going to be a lonely cat lady. I already have the cats. I can't find a therapist to take me seriously, so I distract myself with work to stop from spiraling in my head. I am burning myself out. I went straight from my masters into my PhD and worked full-time on the side because my ex-husband was refusing to pay for things despite me only having a minimum-wage part-time job beforehand, and as a non-EU citizen, I wasn't able to get financial assistance with the courts. I lost 30 Kg from starving myself to pay the bills and keep my cats fed. I'm being paid now by my job, and I thought I was doing better. Then I go and get triggered by a shaved head.

I don't know what to do. I want a hug. I want to find who I was before I ever met these men. I want to be normal again. I want to not be afraid anymore.