I am a male victim of domestic violence, charged with domestic violence.

Early on, it seemed like she just got upset at things, and she would throw glass cups at the walls, which I would clean up. I always tried to ask what was wrong, what was bothering her, how I could help, and she would physically push me away and yell at me. I didn't think much of it, as I was doing my best as her partner to help her combat her anorexia, bulemia and massochism. Her temper became more explosive, to the point of throwing a meal while still hot in the pan at the wall if she burnt it. As things worsened, she became more possessive of me. The one and only time that I had left the home for any reason besides work was to attend a going away party for an old friend. She went to the movies with a man she was meeting for the first time that she had met on the internet, claiming it was because she was lonely without me in the house, and that he had a girlfriend anyways. Within two weeks, Angela continued to speak to him online, met him again, where she had told me that he had made sexua| advances toward her which she rejected. I had later come to find out that she had been speaking with him online for a considerable amount of time, and that he in fact did not have a partner. She continued to talk to him, despite my asking her not to. As well, she continued to talk with her exboyfriend, despite my telling her that she communicated with him more than she did with myself anymore. She claimed she was not talking to him, that she was talking to a female friend of hers, this friend who's dog lived in our home the entire time of the relationship. As far as I knew, they were friends, and we had planned a trip to return her dog to her in California whenever Angela was to complete her felony probation. This female friend I came to find out was in fact an exgirlfriend whom she was still fond for. Around this time, she began cutting herself openly in the living room while she sat on the couch, with myself on the other couch. She would cut herself multiple times, would not stop when I asked her to, and would not even dress the wounds, even when I brought her gauze and Antibiotics . As well, she would not even clean the wounds, leaving the blood to drip down her leg, many times staining the bed we shared. It was around this time that I began sleeping on the couch every chance I could, I did not feel safe in a dark room with her. When we had moved, I had hoped we could repair the relationship, but that was not the case. I could not fix whatever was wrong with her. The violence worsened again around October 2011. She began throwing things again - full dishes of food into the sink breaking the dinnerware, throwing pots of food at the floor, throwing glass cups at the walls. Every time I only asked her what was bothering her, how I could help, and ended up cleaning the mess. It was at this point that I began to fear for my safety. I realize now that she was not throwing these dishes due to a meal not up to her standards, but that she did it to manipulate control over me, to show her dominance over a male. When we had first met, Angela had confided in me that she was raped in her previous relationship, and I feel as though the only reason she decided to date me was to dominate me, so that she could have power over a male. I never raised a hand to Angela the entire time we dated. I stole her utility blades to keep her from cutting herself with the nasty bloodcrusted things. She began using a kitchen steak knife, and even went so far as to use a dull ceramic sculpting knife. It was at this point that I knew I could not share a bed with this person, and surely would not share the rest of my life with her. She started throwing things at me in November, but she didn't aim well enough, which allowed me to dodge them. She would leave and I would clean them up. Later did I find out that every time she left a room upset, she would be purging (bulemia) or cutting herself in another room. I knew I had to leave the situation, but she had told me that if I left her, she would commit suicide. She began abusing her drug of choice, Dextromethorphane (DXM) around this time. I had informed her that I did not want her abusing Dextromethorphane - as I had a friend commit suicide while on Dextromethorphane April of 2010, just under 3 months before we began dating. She flatly refused and continued the abuse, as well with the worsening anorexia/bulemia and cutting. In December 2010, she wanted to have people over for her birthday and made an even on Facebook for it. I invited many of my friends, all of whom I had not seen more than once the entire time we had dated due to her extreme codependant possessiveness. She confronted me angerly - screaming, yelling, throwing random objects, claiming that all of these women were prettier than she was and that they were all single, and that she had uninvited every female. I had told her that she was acting insane, that most every single female is married with child, and that I, they, and their husbands' have been friends for over a decade. We went to WinCo, where we were discussing some sort of food stuffs for this party for her. I made my opinion known, and then she took the bag of food that she had, struck me with it, struck me with her hands multiple times, collapsed to the floor sobbing, then stood up and ran off. I put the frozen foods scattered across the aisle in the cooler, chased after her and explained to her that not only was she acting juvenile, but that I did not appreciate her striking me, that I would not stand for it whatsoever, that it demasculated me and simply causes a scene. Later in the week, she cornered me on the couch, striking me in the face multiple times with closed fists, destroying my glasses - I had duct taped them together so that I was still able to drive. A couple weeks later, I went to her work to walk her home after drinking a beer with the neighbor. She accused me of being f***ed up, and struck me in the face with a closed fist in the produce section, sending my glasses flying 20 feet or so away. Shortly after this incident, I had told her that I was finished being her punching bag. I slept on the couch for the month of December. After Angela's 21st birthday, she began drinking and abusing DXM even worse. She was performing DXM extractions in the kitchen, and I told her that I did not want her doing that in our home. The extractions called for using Naphtha (a flammable paint thinner), and using it to extract the DXM - she placed her concoction in the microwave. I had told her that she was not thinking clearly, that was she was doing was not only dangerous to herself, but also to myself and the neighbors in the adjoining duplex. I informed Casey Brownfield (neighbor) of what Angela was doing, as each of our kitchens shared the separating wall. Casey installed a smoke detector at the top of her stairs that night on my advice. Nothing I could say to Angela would stop her destructive behavior. For the month of January, I moved into the second bedroom in our home. In that month the violence was more than I could handle. She had tried to throw my own phone at my head which I dodged, but the phone was destroyed when it struck an oil container hard enough to shatter the container, drenching the phone and destroying it (it was two weeks before I could get another phone). She took a mug of hot coffee off of my desk, threw the coffee in my face and then struck me by throwing the empty mug at my head. She had threatened to take her own life multiple times if I left her, and then within the same day she would yell at me to leave "her" house. In the month of February, I began moving my things into the garage, we agreed that due to the minimal living conditions there, that I would only pay 50 dollars a month to live there, which would give me the time to purchase a vehicle and move out within two months. Being on Social Security Disability and working freelance computer repair jobs, there were not any other available options aside from staying in a homeless shelter. The first week of February, I had moved into a temporary location 5 miles away. I biked to the garage when I had a client, as that is where I worked out of. When I came there, I made sure to schedule my client's pickup times around her work schedule, so that I could avoid her, for fear that she would cause a scene in front of any of my clients. As well, I would take care of my cat SparkPlug, who's food dishes were empty, water dish bone dry, and litterbox unchanged every time. I as well would take out the garbage, do dishes, and take the dog outside. I began speaking with a girl in the Portland area, and not a day has gone by that we haven't talked. I have been planning on moving to the Seattle/Portland area for some time, as I am a Metal artist, vocals and electric guitar, and there is a larger audience base for the style of music I play there. I had spoken with Angela around the 3rd week of February, and she said she would still rent me the garage for 100 dollars a month. I told her I would have my things there on the night of the 29th, and that I wanted to know what her work schedules were so that I could shower and prepare meals while she was at work. I did not feel safe in the same house as her. The next day, she approached me with a contract, stating that I would have to pay 100 dollars, plus any additional electricity usage that she saw fit, and also that she would retain the right to evict me from the garage with 7 days notice. I told her that I would not sign it because of the 7 day eviction clause, and the additional electric cost, especially due to that she had already offered me in writing the garage for 50 dollars a month. She yelled at me, "How long do you even plan to stay here?" I told her gruffly, 'As short a time as possible.' She yelled frantically with such force spit was flying in my face, "Why? So you can go live with that Portland Bitch?" I had said something about that if she wanted to know anything, that she would only need to ask me, that she didn't need to get her information second hand. (As I knew that she was gossiping with the neighbor's partner.)[as well at this time, I noticed a neighbor standing in his driveway staring at the two of us as though were some sort of sideshow entertainment]. I sternly said to her, that yes, I did plan on moving to the Portland area, and that I was going to at least meet this girl and see where things lead. At this point she swung her beverage can into the side of my head. Defending myself, I had pushed her away from myself, and she slipped backwards onto the hood of the car where she took started striking at me, kicking me in the arms and chest. I tried to restrain her, yelling at her to calm down and stop hitting me, that I was no longer her's to hit, that she no longer had the right to hit me. I yelled very loudly, so as to get the attention of someone, anyone who could come and help. She did not stop, so I slid her to the other side of the hood while I tried to escape. The hood of the car was snowcovered, so she slid into the snowy grass next to the car, where she simply sat there crying and howling. I, still shouting told her again that I was no longer her's to hit, that her abuse had to stop or she would push away every person who ever tries to love her like I did. She silenced, composed herself and walked to the house, as though she had finally realized that her abuse had pushed me away. I saw her phone in the snow, so I picked it up to call the police. Some people down the street a half block away were standing there in their yard staring, as though this was some sort of sideshow. I yelled to them, "Why don't you help me? Why are you just standing there? What do you think this is, entertainment?" Or something to the effect. As I got closer, I could hear the male speaking with the police stating that he saw a male beating a woman in the yard or something to that effect, which was a complete and total lie, as I know he was saw everything from the beginning.

When the police arrived, I approached them. A female officer pulled me aside, gave me a pat down for weapons, and had me sit on the grill of her patrol car. I explained to her the history of abuse that I had dealt with living with Angela, and at the end of it, she appeared as though she was going to help and I could read empathy in her eyes. She had asked me if Angela was right or left handed to which I responded she was right handed and struck me with the can in her right hand. She then asked me what side of the face she had hit me in, and I said I think it was the right side of my face as that's where I could feel pain, but I can't feel anything in my face because I slept in the garage the night before and most of the feeling in my extremeties was not there. I heard from another officer that Angela was being placed into the back of a patrol car. I thought to myself, "This nightmare is finally over." I asked if she was being arrested, to which the other officer responded that, "No, she is warming up. You're being arrested for Domestic Violence." My heart sank - especially as multiple officers spoke with Angela, and the female officer who I spoke with was not given a chance to speak to the other officers to even relay the fact of the history of abuse that I dealt with for the previous five months.

I am not only innocent, I am the victim of domestic abuse. Now I have to present my case to a jury, call for drug testing daily [the drug testing site is about 15 miles away by bicycle or an hour and a half by local bus], come up with 900 dollars to cover the cost of the jury trial which I have no idea how I'm going to get, and at the same time try to find some sort of Domestic Violence Victim's support group that will allow me to attend, as the two centers here cater only to females, and the same center denied me entry to a "Safety and Planning" class for male DV victims, due to that I had a pending charge.

Not only was I alone in the same bed as my expartner, alone sleeping on the couch, alone sleeping in the second bedroom, alone sleeping in a strangers home, and alone sleeping in the garage, now I am living in a 15 foot RV alone. My heart is literally in pain right now from writing this. I just feel like there's no hope, nobody around who is willing to help, and those who are willing to help either don't know how they can, or they simply can't. I have over 5 years sobriety, and I feel like sticking a f***ing needle in my arm, but because I drink the occasional beer and don't beat my spouse, there is not much support in 12 step groups. I have schizophrenia, causing me to hallucinate audially and visually, and since I wrote this the f***ing voices won't stop, they've been gone for almost 2 years. I haven't been severely depressed for 7 years, and every time I close my eyes to sleep all I can see is my own body hanging from a noose. My life is in shambles, I don't know where the f*** to turn and every person I've tried to talk to either doesn't believe me, doesn't care, or they feel too uncomfortable to even hear the situation. Tweet