Harsh Truths of Supporting Someone in an Abusive Relationship

Could my family and friends have done more to help me when I was being abused?

Probably not.

You cannot help someone who isn’t willing to help themselves, because they are the only ones that can do what needs to be done.

In the case of domestic abuse, it’s not that we aren’t willing to help ourselves or do what needs to be done. We feel powerless to do anything, and not worthy of other people’s time and attention.

We live in a constant state of fear and confusion, which clouds our judgment and influences our decisions.

All we can see in front of us is hopelessness and despair. We can’t see a way out and we are aware that our family and friends struggle to understand what we are going through. We lie to them about what is going on, reducing the severity, making excuses or simply hiding the truth.

How can our friends and family help us when they don’t even know what’s really going on, or cannot understand the effects?

But you can and do help in so many ways. I know it’s tough for you, but please, don’t give up.

As the victim/survivor/thriver of my domestic abuse story, I know I can’t accurately explain the way it affected my family and friends.

I have been free for over 17 years, but it’s not something we, as a family, have talked about much.

I previously wondered why they didn’t help me more. But now I am further along my healing journey, I understand that supporting someone who is being abused is filled with just as much uncertainty as living with the abuse.

Worry fills your days.

Despair takes hold as you realise that no matter what you say and do, you can’t make them leave.

The pain of seeing your loved one hurt cuts deep.

But, I can’t explain this as well as my mum can, so here’s what she had to say about what it was like living with the knowledge that her daughter and grandson were being mistreated.

It’s all you think about, and it often becomes overwhelming. You want to help but there’s only so much you can do, and that makes you feel powerless. Every day I would wake up thinking, I hope Lisa is ok.

I wanted to keep urging her to leave but I knew I couldn’t force it. Your hopes build when they finally do leave, but then they go back to them, and you come crashing down. You can’t understand why they would choose to go back.

It takes over your home life. I was always waiting for either a telephone call or something to happen. A call because she had been hurt, run away, or needed help. Or a bang on the door from the police or him (the abuser).

I hated being asked to dinner but knew I could never say no, because she needed me there. He would control everything they did. There was a sense of being trapped.

He was always there. I rarely got any time with just Lisa and Louis-Rae. If I did, it was always short-lived, and she would be distracted, constantly watching the time. She was always so frightened.

It takes over the rest of the family. My other daughters were always worried he would turn up if Lisa had left and come back home. I was at work one day when my youngest called me. She was terrified because he was kicking the front door down, trying to get to Lisa. It spread anxiety throughout the family and made us all feel unsafe.

I couldn’t tell people what was going on. I only told one of my co-workers, because I had to rush home that day when he was at our front door, threatening to hurt everyone. No one could help, I couldn’t even help my daughter.

It felt like I was carrying the whole situation on my shoulders. I didn’t know who to go to for support.

The lack of control over the situation makes you feel so angry. I hated him with a passion and honestly thought I could have killed him. That would never have been the answer, but I didn’t know how else to get my daughter away from him.

All this time later, it still makes me cry to think of those years he took from Lisa, and my family.

There were a few tears as we discussed those years, and I realised how much my situation had affected her and my family.

I know that no one holds me responsible for what happened and what they experienced during that time, but I still feel guilty for what I put them through.

I was so unreliable, letting them down with only a moment’s notice.

I would lie to them to get out of seeing them or about something that had happened.

I borrowed money and never paid it back.

I’d phone them, in tears, telling them how scared I was, and then blank them for days, leaving them to worry about what had happened to me.

My ex always came first, no matter how important something else was to my friends and family.

I would leave, and get their hopes up, only to return a day/week, or two later.

I’m not proud of the way I treated those who truly loved me during this time, but I do understand it. I know these were not my actions. They were the actions of someone who spent her days walking on eggshells, in a state of confusion and uncertainty.

I was someone who lived in fear for her life, who did the best she could, every day, to keep herself and her son safe.

So, if you are supporting someone who is experiencing an abusive relationship, please do not take the disappointments personally.

And, please do not give up.

Whenever you can, build up their self-esteem and confidence.

Let them know they’re not alone and that you’re always there to talk to. Listen to what they say without judgment and be open about how worried you are about them.

Keep reminding them of their strengths, achievements, and potential. Encourage them to talk about what they want, their dreams, and desires.

Share stories of how others have managed to leave abusive relationships. Tell them about women’s refuges and local domestic abuse charities.

They may dismiss all of this at the time, but it does filter in. Your words will help them to build the strength and knowledge they need to leave.

And, just as importantly, get support for yourself.

This isn’t just their nightmare, and you need help to deal with everything you are going through. Don’t underestimate how much you are helping but recognise that there is only so much you can do.

There will come a day when this will all be a distant memory. You will look at your loved one and see them laughing, happy, and free.

Until that day, know that you are doing the best you can, just like they are.

And, to my mum:

“Thank you for your support, strength, courage, and perseverance.

You were the rock that never budged, and always provided me with a safe place to land.

You helped me build up the strength I needed to leave and stay away.

Those years are a distant memory but the warmth of the never-ending love you showed during those times, which continues to this day, will never fade.

You helped put the sparkle back in my eyes and the joy back in my soul, and I will forever be grateful.”

(Most local, and national domestic abuse charities have a helpline, which anyone affected by domestic abuse can make use of. In the UK, the National Domestic Abuse Helpline is 0808 2000 247. In the US, it’s 1.800.799.7233.)