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8. Abusive Boyfriend
“I dated the quarterback in high school. My parents hated him, but their hatred fueled me to overlook red flags and really push to make things work…to prove them wrong. I was 17. Anyway, flash forward to 19, I’m still dating the douche. I had been pushed around, had bruises left on me, lots of little shit had happened but I never told anyone. He was always terribly sorry and made it out to be my fault. I was young and he totally manipulated me because he had a weird hold over me since he took my virginity. I was going to college and living in my own house alone. I had experienced life outside my crazy small town and something in me snapped after a day of abuse. I was fucking done.
It was late November and he had just purchased me a Christmas tree. When I called to finally break up with him, he was pissed off and told me he just wanted his Christmas tree. Fine. I left it on my front porch and went to a friend’s house. I had a really terrible feeling and needed to not be home. I started getting a plethora of phone calls and texts from him. They started off begging me to talk, then when I didn’t respond he left me voice mails telling me his mother had a heart attack and he needed me.
We lived a couple hours from our hometown and he started timing his calls with what town he’d be at if he were actually driving. ‘I’m not anywhere near you. I just passed [name of town] and I’m so scared about my mom. Please call me.’ Then 15 minutes later when he’d be passing another town I’d get the same call. He kept saying he wasn’t anywhere near me. I ended up turning off my phone and staying at my friends house until 3 a.m. When I got home I was careful to drive around and make sure his car wasn’t around. I ran inside and got a call on my land line. ‘Where have you been?’ It was the absolute coldest I’ve ever heard his voice. I told him not to call me and hung up. Two seconds later my door flew open and I was thrown against my counter.
He was screaming, asking where I had been, who I was with, why was I ignoring him, etc. I started begging him to calm down. I reached for my cell phone and he broke it in half and ripped my landline out of the wall. The rest is basically a blur. He totally trashed my apartment. At one point I made it outside. Neighbors 2 doors away saw him grab my hair and drag me inside. They did nothing.
He grabbed a knife he’d brought and held it against my neck, then told me that’s not how he wanted me to go. He grabbed my face and shoved it into my couch, suffocating me. This encounter was nearing 2 hours long at this point and I couldn’t get loose and started losing consciousness. Something happened and he snapped out of it. He let go and did a total 180. He started bawling and apologizing. He hugged me and begged me to forgive him. I told him I forgave him but he needed to go so I could rest. I told him whatever I needed to, to get him out of my house.
I immediately plugged in my landline and called 911. He started knocking on the door, crying and apologizing. I said I had just called police, and he screamed ‘You fucking bitch!’ and left.
He pled down to false imprisonment and was only given a little community service. I had a restraining order for awhile. The second it was up he called and asked me to be a ‘team player’ and help him get the charges expunged. Nope. Fuck off.”
9. Psychotic Break
“About 10 years ago when I was 16 my brother (at the time 21) moved back into my parents home due various drug related issues. At the time that was about the extent of my knowledge of the situation, but I’d later learned that my older brother was acting as a small time dealer and had gotten into some trouble with some sort of gang by not moving product fast enough. He also happened to have been a user of various drugs including meth (again at the time all I knew was ‘drug issues’). Now to be fair, when he moved back into my parents place he quit using everything with exception of pot. However the usage of drugs does in fact mess with you brain, and there are effects that can linger. I guess what I’m getting at is that my brother’s mental health wasn’t exactly in outstanding condition.
On this particular day my brother came home from working a job, and was behaving a bit strange. It’s hard to recall all the details, but the one thing that comes to mind is him slamming a pot of water onto the stove, throwing in some noodles, turning on the wrong burner, and walking away. It was almost like he was sleep walking, but at the same time I knew he wasn’t. Being the passive/timid person I am, I sort of just let him do his thing (correcting the pot/burner issue) and went back to playing on the computer.
A few minutes later I was interrupted when my brother attempted to rip the computer out of the wall and, I presume, attempt to smash it. I physically stopped him and an argument of sorts followed. Apparently the computer was evil and was corrupting me. I, an introverted 16-year-old gamer, did not like this accusation that fell along similar lines I’ve been hearing for years by certain groups of people. Especially from the brother who was also formerly a gamer, and had so drastically changed from the person I had known and respected just a few years prior. He began throwing many things at me, including chairs, dishes, and proceeded to tackle me while I was occupied with the chair he had most recently thrown. He then attempted to strangle me while muttering something about purging evil. That was the point I felt he was actually trying to kill me, and decided I needed to physically harm him to make him stop.
So I tossed him off me and gave him several punches as hard as I could in the midsection. He disengaged and ran outside into the woods out of sight. I called my father who came home and found my brother trying to hang himself in the woods (we presume, given the belt in the tree), but barely coherent/conscious. He was taken to the ER.
Turns out my brother was severely dehydrated, and coupled with his other mental health issues this caused a psychotic break of sorts. I should end this by saying we’re both perfectly fine now, and leading happy, productive lives.”
10. Passing Lane
“Driving through rural Oregon with a couple of buddies on Spring Break, on a stretch of highway with one lane in each direction, we were stuck in a line of cars behind a woman who was driving a little slowly. We hit a stretch where passing was allowed so I moved over and sped up so I could get around her.
She sped up too.
I was driving a Civic with three big guys in the car so I couldn’t beat her. OK, I thought, be that way. I slowed back down to get back behind her.
She slowed down too. She wasn’t going to let me back in.
The passing lane was coming to an end and I was starting to get a little nervous. I tried to catch her eye to indicate that she had to let me in and realized she was staring at me, smiling. I looked forward and realized a semi was coming straight towards me. I jerked left, onto the shoulder of the oncoming lane, and missed the semi by a few feet. The cars behind the psycho had seen the whole thing and let me in between them, and she exited shortly after trying to kill me.
I only drive fast cars now and when I pass people I try to do it before they notice I’m doing it.”
11. “Do you want to move out…right now?”
“I’ve always grown up in a family heavily against doctors and medication. My dad specifically thought mental illness was a load of crap, and was quite abusive towards me. When I was 17 I began experiencing extreme levels of anxiety, which eventually spiraled into breakdowns and episodes of sheer terror. Not long before this, my sister was feeling suicidal. When I tried to tell my parents to get her help, my dad said psychologists are a bunch of bullshit, all depressed people want to die and that if she wants to kill herself so badly he’ll help her. I was beaten for standing up for her.
Anyway, considering this incident I decided to seek help behind my parents’ back. Eventually my dad found out, and lost it. One day he came into my room and told me to move out, so I told him I would and that the only reason I was staying was for mum.
Then, in the most calmest, unusual voice ever, he said “Do you want to move out now.” I was baffled by what he meant, and it was only later I realized he was implying my death. He said, “Do you want to move out… right now? Here I’ll help you.”
He then proceeded to smash my whole room into pieces, he smashed two guitars over my head, threw drawers and object at me with heavy force. Then he grabbed a long stake of wood that he broke off my chest of drawers by repeatedly kicking it. He held it to my neck and said he was going to kill me. I told him I loved him, he said ‘No you don’t, you’re the biggest mistake of my fucking life. I’m going to kill you, it all ends now.’
He tried stabbing me in the neck, only managing a small cut while I was kicking him in the stomach as forcefully as I could. He then grabbed me by my head and smashed my head against my bed, trying to knock me out and and continuing to say he was going to end it all. I had my hands around his throat, choking him at which point my mum came into the room and threw him off me (he started beating her instead). She managed to get him out of my room, and so I ran out of my window and into my neighbors backyard crying for help. My neighbors freaked out thinking I was an intruder, the husband picked me up by my shirt and has his fist closed like he was ready to punch me. I was hospitalized that night with only minor physical injuries.
The police saw the scene where he beat me and said its the worst they’d ever seen a room trashed. in court, the judge looked at my dad and said ‘Property damage is not acceptable.’ He was let off with no charges and just a warning. They had used the wrong police statement.
All of this because I tried to seek help.”
12. A Lucky Stabbing?
“I was stabbed in the stomach during a bar fight and I passed out from blood loss. When I came to I was in the hospital, the surgeon who patched me up let me know that had I not been stabbed I could have died from my appendix bursting.
Apparently without realizing it, my appendix was perforated (and not related to the stab wound). What I thought was just some cramps was actually a life threatening time bomb, and thanks to being almost stabbed to death, I got to live.”
13. Abusive Brother
“My older brother abused me for pretty much my entire life. Broken bones, chemical burns from supergluing my eyes shut while I was sleeping, regular burns, strangling, etc. The one instance that sticks out to me the most is when we were roughly 13 and 15, he was pissed because I was watching a show and didn’t want to give up the TV for him.
He started punching me anywhere his fists could land. I tried to escape into our room and he slammed into the door until it cracked and he could get in. Chased me through the house, managed to grab me by the hair and throw me over the banister (we had a half wall separating the stairwell from the upstairs) and I free fell an entire level downstairs. When I stood back up, he was standing at the top with a chef’s knife in his hand. At that point I freaked out and tried to escape through the French doors in my sisters room, but he made it outside just as I opened the door.
So I ran back upstairs with him right behind me, made it to the kitchen. We had one of those counters that wrap around and then stick out in one spot, like an attached island. That was separating us while I tried to call my mom but he sliced the cord. I threw the receiver at his face as hard as I could and ran past him while he was holding his head. I made it down the street before I noticed he wasn’t following me anymore. When I threw the phone, I shattered his front teeth and apparently shit’s excruciating when your nerves are dangling and exposed.
I called my mom and told her what happened. She told me to go back home and she’d talk to him when she got home from work. LOL fat chance. I walked to my friend’s house across the highway and stayed there till my dad dragged me home.”
14. Saving the Day
“When I was 17, I took my HS girlfriend to a winter dance. Before though, we went out to dinner in the city (Dayton, OH). There is a nice Thai place we were going to, but I hadn’t really learned my way around (and this was before pocket GPS). I ended up parking outside of the “nice” district a bit too far, because of traffic and no parking spots being open. We figured walking would just be faster.
It was snowing, we were enjoying a conversation – but I noticed a man alter his trajectory slightly towards us. Background – I’ve done Bujinkan Taijutsu since I was 14; I had learned situational awareness, and taken self defense/rape prevention courses. I’m tall, but really skinny. I saw him coming but let myself not be 100% ready.
As we go to pass, sure enough the knife comes out. Buck knife. Doesn’t ask for money – he tells us to shut up and say nothing. He looks at my date, and gives a look that tells me this is not about money. I had to decide – do I wait another 5 seconds to see what he does, or do I be stupid and rush him?
So I decided. I rushed diagonally at him, and even with my hands up he got the blade into my guard and sliced the outside of my orbital socket. Date ran the opposite direction screaming for help. I take the chance to rush into his off-swing, and he hits my ribs with the butt of the handle. I can’t breathe, or see in my right eye – but I have his neck with my thumb on the trachea, and my right hand us barely holding his arm to me ( so he can’t get the knife loose ). I apply as much raw force to his neck as my adrenaline-fueled body can manage. I hear a small pop, and he fell away fast. I hadn’t crushed it, but he was definitely feeling it. I took this time to fall back, but was so winded I could only manage about 50 feet. I’m bleeding like a faucet from my right eye, and l was certain the eye was slashed.
I slink away, and he didn’t follow. The police and my date found me on the sidewalk after some people ran out of an apartment to investigate.
I have my eye, but only about 50% of my vision. It looks only slightly like Fogarty from A History of Violence. Also, a long scar from my eyebrow to my cheek.
For about a week after, her parents and her were grateful and just so thrilled that I put myself into that to protect her. A week later she cheated on me with a guy from the basketball team, and I was just garbage to be dumped.
Moral of the story – nothing is ever good enough for some people.”
15. Shot In The Head
When I was eight, my father shot me in my sleep, shot and killed my brother in his sleep, and committed suicide. I lost all of my sight, my left eye, and my sense of smell. I survived the shot because the bullet entered from my right temple and exited out my left, instead of enter from the back of my head or my forehead. The bullet lodged into my left hand because my head was resting on my hand when I was sleeping.
Here is my story on Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8hsfxVIRW-A
I’m now doing an AMA: https://www.reddit.com/r/IAmA/comments/4al0v0/iama_17_year_old_blind_guy_who_was_shot_by_his/
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