At least I didn't hit you!

This title will resonate with a wide range of people, and not in a good way. It's a phrase used by people who seem to feel that drunbken abuse, huilitation, psychological terrorism, bullying or a plain lack of respect can be mitigated by the fact they never gave you a bloody nose, or worse. Sticks and stone may break my bones but a healthy diet and some healthcare will allow these to heal, whereas words might have a lasting psychological effect that may be all most impossible to cure. So what's worse, a punch or a nasty name? Well, neither, really. If you love someone don't be rotten to them.

Sadly, for some, the title doesn't apply and we did get hit. Physical abuse is often accompanied by the head variety and is often in the headlines; news, Twitter campaigns, FB pages and so on. Almost exclusively dealing with violence towards women. Children have floated to the top of the league lately with the appalling revelations regarding one James Savile and his penchant for taking advantage of children in his orbit. All this is good (the highlighting and discussion, obviously). There is still a dark corner that rarely gets discussed though.

I'm 6' 1", kept reasonably fit, done several martial arts and am more than ready to stand up for myself and others. Usually. But a skinny 5' 10" lass ruined my life by regularly getting drunk and verbally and physically abusing me. We had a young Son and I was adamant we would give him a 2 parent home, I was also scared about his well being as she would be massively unstable when drunk, drugged or a combination of both. I put up with this for 12 years until, aged 14, our Son, witnessing another Christmas meltdown, looked at me and said 'I don't know how you put up with this, if it was I'd have left ages ago'. So we sat down and had a conversation and I left her. Telephone calls at inappropriate times, filled with vitriol followed and my self esteem, already low, continued to suffer.

He grew up and left home, she took up with a guy with similar habits and now she's watching her liver disintegrate and, aged 44, is looking at not reaching 50.

I have no idea why I didn't just knock her out, maybe because it's fundamentally wrong to hit anyone who isn't actually threatening your life, maybe because of an old fashioned idea that you shouldn't hit women, itself inherently sexist (she was so small I was also scared I'd kill her).

Away from her for over 7 years and, at last, I'm getting some of the old, happy-go-lucky me back. It's taken time and the love of a good woman but it's there. I'd give people advice, but people gave me advice too and my own sense of stubbornness made me want to do things 'my way'.

But.

You don't have to stay, you don't have to put up with it. It can be better.