I Thought Of Stockholm syndrome too but I figured it was way to severe to compare to the general statement made about A's taking hostages. Some of it seems to make sense. Like the acts of "kindness" from them that seem to make us feel we are worth something to them.
We must start out being less that confident. I know my self esteem was never high but he told me how pretty I was and how different I was. He said he just wanted to be around me. I couldn't figure out why. Nobody has ever talked to me like that. The first few times I saw him I never spoke to him. But I could not get his face out of my mind.
There was something in his eyes that I can't explain and to this day I can't bear to see him because even though he is digging his grave with a bottle I still see that something in his eyes. I still don't know what it is. I would rather not see his face for as long as I live because of this.
Regardless of all the feelings he told me (and all my friends) he had for me It became a knock me down pull me up kind of life. Of course I was not going to tell anyone the extent of it. No way!! I could handle it. It was OUR business.
I started to feel confused and a little trapped. He became more belligerent with his drinking and I began to lie about things. My feeling of being trapped began to get reinforced in different ways. I lied to his sister about the marks on my neck where the glass beads of my necklace dug in when he choked me. I was ashamed of myself for being in that situation at all but I didn't see a way out.
The cops said If I had him arrested for domestic violence that he would have me arrested and we would both go to jail. They said he had marks on him too. Those marks were from me trying to get his hands off my throat. They said it didn't matter. I sat there on the driveway with a ring of angry marks around my neck and a sore swollen throat. I croaked out the words "I guess i can't press charges because I don't want to go to jail." I was in no condition to sit in jail. It scared me to think about it.
Every single time I packed my stuff to leave (had nowhere to go but in the moment but didn't care, never thought of vera house or anything like that...it wasn't THAT bad) he would act like I was crazy.
Then I would wear myself out physically and mentally, which I think he waited for or maybe he didnt care, and then the "talk" would come. He would say he was tired of fighting and just wanted us to be ok.
I remember all too well the vapid stare on my face and the empty, wasted feeling in my head. My face red from screaming and crying just trying with all my guts to make a point, any point, and the headache that would follow me for the next day. All I wanted was for him to listen to me. Just try to understand where I was coming from. But I know now that he couldn't because he was too busy planning his next move.
Our relationship was long series of these episodes where each time I ended up looking and feeling like an out of control, over emotional train wreck.
We'd stay away from each other for a few hours or he would storm out leaving me to wonder what the hell I was doing wrong all the time.
He would ask me later "are we ok?" and I would say "I guess" because I couldn't cry anymore, or think or react to anything. I just wanted peace. I wanted to be next to him feel like we were "normal" Sometimes he would ask me if I needed anything and he would act like he cared and then we would be ok for awhile and we would go to his mom's for dinner or he would hug me and say he loved me and we both would cry...but it was never really ok...because it happened again and again for 13 years.
How could I have fallen for this? I never thought of myself as being that weak. I thought I was being strong by sticking it out. I thought that when you love someone you take the bad with the good. At least we didn't fight every single day and night like my parents did. At least he didn't rape me and punch me in the head like his father did to his mother. There was always an "at least'. there was always some small gift or a card that would melt my heart and make me think he was trying. That I was too angry all the time. That I was being difficult and that he wasn't such a bad guy.
I can tell you that I LET HIM hurt me more than any other human has and he has been gone for almost four years. For some reason I still think of him every single day. I think of him now as a lost soul. as someone I used to know and love. As someone who could have been a really decent, talented, attractive and strong man. He never lived up to the hero I WANTED HIM TO BE!!!!
I remind myself that he could make the choice to get away from his AGF and get a life of his own. I remind myself that even if he were to get sober it wouldn't matter to me because there is so much turmoil inside that booze drenched mind that he could never have the energy to be in a relationship.As for me I'm never going back to that.
If I ever get into a relationship again I will see everything as a red flag so for now I'd rather just stay single. I consider myself unavailable. I feel that getting into a relationship now or any time soon would be bad because I might fall into the same trap. I know it's possible because some of the smartest people end up being voluntary hostages.