I am a 29 year old woman. I have had rages as long as I can remember and I never knew anything was wrong. I was in a relationship for almost 10 years with a man that I “fought” with. We argued, fought physically, destroyed things. That was my life. I never thought anything was wrong with it. I left him almost 3 years ago. I met George (not his real name) 2 years ago. It was instant attraction on many levels. We spent every moment we could together. He was everything I never knew existed. He brought into my life, calmness, stability, security, and just general happiness. I had never felt this way about anyone in my whole life.
Time passed and we moved in together, I got pregnant, was very sick and very hateful. I started saying mean things then. Sometimes I would get angry and throw things, remote control, telephone, cups. We both just blamed it on the pregnancy, hormones, etc. Well the baby came. Two weeks after that I had my first full blown rage. I hit George, threw things at him, cussed him, and wanted to hurt him badly. I had no reason as for why, so we blamed it on the post partum.
Things never got any better. I was cruel, and very mean. There were times I wanted to kill him, and even tried. I would get knives and practically hold him hostage in a room. Only the door was between him and the crazy maniac I must have looked like.
Sometimes these episodes would last a few minutes, sometimes a couple of hours. When it was over I would cry, and apologize and swear I wouldn’t do it again. I would also mean it every time. I always thought I would never do it again. I had horrible feelings of sadness, guilt, shame. Why would I want to put myself through that, let alone anyone else? I never got up and thought, “Today I will make George miserable.” No, there were never any warning signs. I could be having a good day or a bad day. You never knew when it was going to happen, or what would set it off.
After several months of this, I realized – it’s me! I knew this because this time, this person, was trying to get away from me. He wasn’t fighting back. He was running for his life. I had a BIGME. I called the mental health agency and told them I needed help with anger management. (To say the least.) I probably should have said I am a homicidal maniac! Anyway, I got into therapy once a week. Tried a few meds. The rages kept happening. I cut George with a knife. I wrapped a telephone cord around his neck. I couldn’t stand what was happening. I was so hopeless on anything changing. I didn’t want to hurt him anymore, but I didn’t know how to stop. problem. There was something wrong with me.
Slowly the rages got further apart. Some medicines started helping with the mood swings. I realized a lot about myself. Lots of things in my past were left unresolved. I had a huge fear of abandonment, rejection, and a feeling that nothing good would last for long. So, I obviously tried to destroy it. I never tried to control George, ever. He thought the rages were an attempt at that. They weren’t. I was trying to control me, my emotions, my fears. Fight or flight, and I had nowhere to go.
The life he lived with me was probably the most horrible life anyone can live. I can’t begin to imagine the feelings and emotions he went through. The fear, the hurt, the confusion. The anger at the net end results of someone else’s mistakes. How unfair that is for him. I am at a point now that I know I will never be that person again. I will never cause anyone or myself that much misery.
There is living and there is trying to stay alive. We weren’t living and he was trying to stay alive. I can never apologize to him enough for what I did and the part of his life that I practically took away from him. Besides everyone knows you can only say “I am sorry” so many times before it loses ALL meaning. I left a month ago. I miss him so much, although I had one of the sickest ways of showing it. I love him with all my heart. He has a lot of healing to do and I have to work on trying to forgive myself. The concept of doing that is very hard to grasp. It’s hard to forgive someone for destroying your entire world, it’s even harder when you have done it to yourself. I hope one day George can forgive me too. I hope that he can get back all the parts that made me fall in love with him, and made him one of the greatest people I have ever known. All the parts I tried to destroy.