You always have a choice! Don’t be a prisoner of your fear…

October19th2015

AAEAAQAAAAAAAAazAAAAJGU1NDkzZGEzLTMwOWItNGJiMC1iZjRkLWMzZjYwOWIwODVlOQ

Yesterday I had a very interesting and empowering talk with one of my fellow colleagues. We were discussing the ‘blocks’ that we still possess that hold us back from becoming 100% transparent with who we really are on an open global (online) scale. This is one of the biggest challenges for life-coaches – to be able to tell your story, to be able to accept that it may not have been pretty…

After a very short chat we realised that our stories, however, different are very similar on an emotional level. We have both experienced fear in the past, and that fear has been holding us back in many different areas of our lives.

My friend said something that has really opened my eyes and inspired me to write this article. She said (which I found amazingly revitalising) that she is always open about the way she feels! And I was like, really? How can you be open about your struggles, shortcomings and vulnerabilities in front of everyone? I was in shock for a moment, but then it really hit me…

We are all humans, and we all experience many different life hurdles, and if we won’t talk about them openly, how can we entice the right people towards us so we could help them? How are they supposed to know that we went through something as similar as they are going through?

This is it I thought! I need to start being open about my past…and that really scared me, as only my close friends know some things…

I need to let others resonate with my experiences despite how awful they were and how I may be judged. I need to let others know that I am also a human with some ‘scars’ and I was in some very dark places myself, so they can feel understood. Although I am a different person now, liberated and strong again, some of my past stories are still a massive biggie for me. Certain darkness I am holding inside is trembling at the very slightest thought of it, so I wonder how will I be even able to spit it out!

My friend inspired me even more, when I came back home last night and found her video on social media, something she was admitting to be afraid of doing just a few hours before! I was moved whilst watching her and seeing her choking with emotions…It was incredibly brave and powerful and I was filled with admiration and such pride for her, as I know how hard it must have been to do it.

Here we go, straight to the point. One of my stories:

Once upon a time I was 25, really successful, focused on achievements and an independent young business woman. My world got shattered in one second when I found out that my fiancé of 6 years and the love of my life (as I then thought) was cheating on me with a woman of the same name (very clever). This is a story in itself, but its not the one I want to focus on today.

Whilst heartbroken I happened to meet a guy through a mutual friend. He was some sort mysterious ‘business guy’, lots of connections, very busy and very charismatic. I was overwhelmed with the attention and excitement, surprises and the world of spontaneity he was introducing me to. This was something totally different to what I had ever known. Amazing life style, cars, parties, events, no queues to a nightclub, celebrity status, VIP booths, I felt swept of my feet…

Before I realised what I had entered, I was trapped and unable to escape from a very possessive and toxic relationship…I soon learnt what physical abuse really meant; I understood what it is like to be afraid for your own life and the lives of your loved ones in very serious and real ways. I discovered what panics attacks were and soon Xanax and Prozac became part of my daily routine mixed with some recreational drugs that helped me to feel numb enough to manage throughout the day. Due to his excessive jealousy I lost my career, friends and people I cared for.

I was often so angry and furious to feel so deprived of my freedom that I tried to run away a few times, I was always found and it always ended up badly for me…and I mean badly…I have never had my face hit, but the rest of my body was covered in bruises and wounds. I felt so worthless and valueless that I allowed for something like this to happen to me, to such an extent. I felt so ashamed and embarrassed as I still held onto the past image of myself, of the independent and strong woman. I wanted to die.

I was so mentally broken that I often prayed not to wake up. Some of my friends probably thought that I had life filled with adventures and fun, as I seldom revealed anything and I found my coping system…All the happy pills and other stuff made me become someone unknown to myself; I was oblivious to my own surroundings, numbed and a shadow of someone once so vibrant, passionate and honest. I was now wearing a mask, which became my identity and protection. Everything depended on the mood my partner woke up in. He was a diagnosed schizophrenic on top of all the other issues and things he was involved in.

I have seen and witnessed a lot, far too much to feel safe… So many tragedies were happening around me, and many of these women involved in similar relationships were going through hell as well, but since being so numbed it didn’t bother me any more. I couldn’t go to anyone. The people who were surrounding me, were living the same lives and the women were completely controlled by the lifestyle, money and fear. The police were not to be trusted either…

I became the worst version of myself. Those guys from my circle didn’t understand what my problem was, nor did I want to share this horrible stuff with my family. My mum only realised what was really going on, when the police dropped me at hers one night, after finding me running on a highway with bloodied and torn apart clothes. I so much wanted to say what was really happening, but I was too afraid to give them a statement.

There was so much I wanted to say about what I went through, I wanted to scream and let everyone know what sort of fear I was living in, but I was petrified. Not about myself then, because I couldn’t care less, but about those few friends who wanted to help me. I am sure that they also remember the craze and sick fixation in his eyes, when things went flying out of anger…What could I do? Eventually I just accepted my life. I started to believe that he loved me and that’s why he gets angry with me…

When he was locked up I was visiting him in prison and I met a few women, who were also visiting their partners or husbands. They were businesswomen. I often reflected on my past, amazing life that was unfolding so prosperously that I destroyed by very bad decisions. I was thinking of them. How their lives looked like behind the closed doors. Because when we all leave our expensive cars, enter our amazingly decorated apartments and take off the designer clothes jewellery and the masks of powerfulness and achievements, we are only women, with bruised bodies and mentalities, terrorised by fear and in possession of some coping systems that allow us to go from Monday to Tuesday without a proper promise that Wednesday will ever come…

It was 9 months he was in prison for the first time when I was completely mind controlled to do everything he wanted me to do. I was outside the prison every day and stood there for hours so he could see me, because he was lonely and sad…(he needed me, as he was saying). Jesus, what was I thinking! I was writing love letters, and did plenty of crazy stuff for him to be happy, and as much as I find it hard to believe now, I did it. After all I went through.

Just recently I burnt over 300 hundred letters from him, where he was pouring his love and admiration in the most beautiful way possible. He was pouring his tears onto the papers and begged me for forgiveness giving me back a bit of the powers that were so harshly taken away from me for so long. I was in charge again. Or was I dreaming? In my head I was his little girl, who needs to wait for him to take care of me again. OMG!

The 9 months, nevertheless, were long enough for me to reflect on many things in the ‘safety’ of separation. I promised myself again that if any of these abuses will repeat I will go, regardless of the consequences and I told him that. I didn’t have to wait long…

Just 2 weeks after he left the prison, I was on a floor again waiting for my face to be kicked this time. Thankfully it didn’t happen…to my face and in my head I was done with it. I began my ‘boot camp’ to survival. The universe must have been watching me this time and a couple of months later he was locked up again. The real nightmare began. The police wanted me to testify and were threating me that if I didn’t the others will come after me and they won’t be able to help me. Fair enough the ‘friends’ of his started to bother me at night and threaten me every day. Life became unbearable.

I knew I cannot talk to the police and I knew I could not put up with the visits of the ‘friends’, and I knew I would not stay with him any longer. Eventually I got enough courage to stand up for myself this time and didn’t care what anyone thinks of my actions, his friends or him. Two days later I was in Japan, where I stayed for a few months and got myself a bit together…Japan… again has a story, but not for today…

That all happened over a decade ago, meanwhile I decided to face my fear and met him on his day release from prison. I had to. The unpleasant feeling in my stomach was still there, but I felt free, I was no longer controlled. I could breath. We spoke and I said all those things that I felt unable to say before and our paths have finally parted.

When I went to see the film “Legend” everything came back to the surface again, as a lot of these things featured in the movie was my movie as well. I was just lucky enough that my coping system didn’t kill me…I felt sick to my stomach when I memorised his crazed eyes filled with fury next to my face, but I am now grateful for all of those things that happened…regardless how insane that may sound. I have to be honest, not everything was that bad. Thanks to him I had my best friend with me for 14 years (my little yorkie, who sadly passed away 2 months ago), I have seen a lot, experienced a lot and learnt a lot. Without these ‘life lessons’ I wouldn’t be where I am now.

I wouldn’t have left my country, learnt another language, joined the police force in a foreign country and wouldn’t have met my husband, who is one of the kindest, most loving and amazing people in the world. My rock and my CBO (Chief Balance Officer as the late Scott Dinsmore’s used to call his wife).

I decided to write this, to empower women to come forward and make the right choice, as I know (as I’ve met) that there are so many strong and powerful ladies that are petrified to leave, terrorised to change their lives. Don’t be scared for as long as I was. Don’t believe in miraculous changes and promises they are giving you. Don’t be fooled by the initial amazing lifestyle and comfort. All those things have a massive price – your freedom and your real self!

I wrote the chapter of my life so you can see that things like these can happen to everyone and there is an entry, a way out. There are choices regardless of how hard your situation is. I just wasn’t lucky enough to meet someone, who knew what I know right now. I didn’t have the support I so much needed back then, but I still managed to escape.

It took some time and it cost me a lot, I lost nearly everything but I had my life back. I had to make a very tough decision and leave everything I knew and loved behind and go, start everything from scratch. Sometimes that is the only way out. I am now able to understand and help those who like myself once got lost in the lavish life-style of hedonistic pleasures that can cost us our lives…