TERRIFIED
TO GO
HOME
I
As Told By: Tim D.
met Anthony
through work
when I was 22.
The relationship
seemed ok in the
beginning, but in hindsight, there were warning signs of what was to
come. They were little
things at first: coming
over unannounced; showing up unexpectedly when
I was out with my friends;
phone calls that seemed
to be a little too frequent.
I made the mistake of
interpreting these early
signs as strong romantic
interest. Before long he
had moved in with me and
his behaviour had become
obsessive and controlling.
One of the
biggest headfucks was
being told
that the violence was part
of his “culture”
and the fact that I
had a problem with
it meant that I was
racist.
9 0 M A Y 2 014 / ARIES
Anthony was
really threatened
by my friends and
my social life.
He hated that
other guys
would look
at me, or that
I’d slept with
other guys
around our
neighbourhood, even
that I had
quite a lot of
friends who
he felt “competed” with
him. Tiny
things that
had not even
occurred to
me as being
possibly offensive would
cause enormous rage.
The more I
was attacked,
the more and
more I withdrew. It was a
self-defence
mechanism
– I figured if
I could stay
away from
anything
that might
cause him
to get upset
then that would
keep him calm. That didn’t work of
course – he simply found new things
to be insecure about. I realise now
the whole strategy was to keep me
feeling perpetually blamed, inadequate and not doing enough to keep
the relationship together. I isolated
myself from my friends, my family
and from everything that I used to
enjoy doing. To get me away from
my previous life, friends and sex
partners we moved to a different city
where I knew no one except him.
I was by nature a very happy, outgoing person, but I quickly became
cautious and scared all the time. My
fear escalated when the physical
violence began. The first time was
because he had seen me talking to
someone I’d had a fling with in the
past and he punched me in the face
because of it. From that time on,
even though the physical violence
was occasional, the fear of it happening pervaded my life and he would
threaten me with it often. Punching,
pushing, restricting my physical
movements (like blocking doors if
I was trying to leave a heated situation), destroying or giving away my
property and refusing to take care of
me if I w as sick were punishments
that would be meted out when simply threatening me or humiliating
me in public wasn’t enough.
Anthony was from a racial minority. One of the biggest
headfucks was being told that the
violence was part of his “culture”
and the fact that I had a problem
with it meant that I was racist. The
problem according to him was not
the violence – it was the fact
that my racism meant I couldn’t
accept who he was. It was me
not him, that had to change. I
now understand that violence
is not culture – there is no
ethnic group on the planet that
celebrates partner abuse as a
cultural identity.
Apart from my massive
social withdrawal, the affect on
my sexuality was really destructive. I became ashamed about being
gay, about being sexually attractive
and about having sexual desires. It
was like going back in the closet.
Money was another big problem. Successive rent periods came
where Anthony would spend all of
his pay on gambling and alcohol