It is over twenty years ago since I met Lisa, We dated in college. On the first occasion when she assaulted me, she shredded my arms and upper body with her nails.
We broke up but she coaxed me back. We finished college and got engaged, about a month before we got married she really went for me, I begged her to stop scraping, pinching, slapping and punching.

A week before the wedding I got a lightly bruised eye, not that noticeable, but I still said 'I do'. On our honeymoon Lisa was driving, I was dumped out on the motorway in England, left and picked up a few hours later. There was no physical contact for at least the first month or more except for thumps and punches to my arms and legs and scrapes.

It got worse, I would beg her to stop, try to hug her to show her I loved her, she would kick me, beat me with shoes, the coal shovel, the brush or anything to hand. This went on for years. I would leave; sleep rough in ditches, cardboard boxes, under bridges and derelict houses. I can understand why a man would stay because of the children. I stayed because of hope for children and a better life.

I didn't care whether I lived or died most days, death was preferable, in fact a graceful release, but I just couldn't do that to my family.