Hi everyone. I need help knowing whether or not my relationship is actually dangerous and abusive. (What my therapist tells me)

I (23 F) have been dating my boyfriend (30 M) for about 7 months now. It started out pretty rocky already with a lot of yelling on his part, calling me names and shaming me for my past. But every time there was a verbal abuse eventually he would see what he did was wrong and apologized profusely and say it’ll never happen again. He’s been in therapy for 10 years and brought the stuff to his therapy and I have seen progress with the yelling. It hasn’t happened as often and it doesn’t get as nasty as it used to. But overtime I grew more resentful about the abuse and tried to break up with him and that’s when things got really bad. He physically restrained me and threatened suicide and hit himself in the face many times until I agreed I wouldn’t leave. Then the next day I mentioned leaving again and somehow we started having sex, and in the past I’ve been consenting with hitting during sex and this time I was too but it felt different, he brought real life arguments into and just told me to say I’ll never do it again and hit me repeatedly. I had a black eye and bruises all over my face. But the thing is, I’ve been very consensual about that and even encouraged it. Then after that, things were better for a while until the next blowup happened. I got too drunk in a club and grabbed someone else’s hand, thinking it was his and he pinched me so hard multiple times that he drew blood and now I have scars. Again, after that, he apologized admitted it was abuse and swore it would never happen again. I tried breaking up with him again, and he stopped me from leaving by pulling my shirt and dragging me to the ground and begging for me to stay I felt I couldn’t leave. A lot of times when I’m feeling like I wanna leave he has these trips planned for us that I feel like I can’t get out of because he paid for them. On our last trip when we went out, he pinched me again. Although this time it wasn’t as hard it didn’t even leave marks. Then one time he broke a boundary of kissing someone else because he thought I was insinuating I wanted a threesome and I got really upset with him and when we were in bed that night he tried to grab me and wanted to have sex I pushed his hand away and then he had sex with me twice anyways But I do feel like that’s my fault because I’ve told him in the past that he can have me whenever he wants even if I don’t want to because I have a rape kink. We’ve talked about everything and I’ve told him how it’s not ok and we’re in couples therapy together. Things seem to be going well and he wants to change and has been seeming a lot more kind lately. He also wants me to take accountability for what I’ve done and getting too drunk and unaware of my surroundings. He told me to stop playing the victim. But at the same time he’s also self-aware and understands that he has to change and wants to. It really seems like he loves me and wants to change. I just don’t know whether or not this is actually reason for concern or not. I feel like I believe him. I love him a lot. He was abused as a child and I understand why he would have some of these behaviors today and feel like I can’t blame him for it.

If you took the time to read, thank you. Any advice would be greatly appreciated!

i don't have the energy to retype and i worded my thoughts pretty well so i thought i'd just share that here.

"I thought, ‘’should I just give up trying to fight? completely numb myself and stop fighting and let them do whatever they want to do to me or say to me’’. But these thoughts always end with this dilemma in my mind; should I really become a husk of a person? Should I lose myself and everything I stand for, lose all my dreams and all my struggles, everything I have fought for. It quite literally feels like that’d be my first death. It feels the same as being coerced and told to stop fighting it when getting assaulted. I had this dilemma, to die by fighting or to do by not fighting.

At every point in my life, I had these dilemmas, these struggles of whether or not to let go of my sanity. But even trying to hold on to it is ruining me on so many levels. I have lost most of me. Lost such bug chunks of my memory, big parts of me. I have never met a person like me. I’m sure there are many out there, but there is no one around me that lives a life like mine or has lived a life like mine. I hate burdening my dearest ones with my issues so much, but I am such a weak, spineless hypocrite, show me a bit or kindness or be just slightly nice, and I’ll falter so very easily. I still depend on my parents for my financial needs, but if you ask me, I’d say I was conditioned to be dependent on them, since if I wasn’t, I’d prolyl have just ran away at like 13 or 14.

I know I hate the parents they are and understand them as people. But even though I know understanding why they behave the way they do, doesn’t mean I should excuse them; still, in my mind I struggle to find why they deserve my hate even though I completely understand they chain of events that led them to be what they are. It also hurts that no one bothers doing the same for me, but that feels like me begging for pity points for myself.

I can’t say so many things to my own therapist because it feels like I am faking it all, that my experiences and struggles are a cry for attention, an excuse to do bad things and get away with it. I know that not all of it is true even if my paranoia tells me so, I know that I might be the worst person I the world and still be what I am to these people, a scapegoat. They might not have control over what they do because of their psychology, it still makes them just as bad, if not more, by their own standards. I know that I haven’t harbored any ill intention to hurt someone’s feelings, or to seriously harm someone physically. The only time I have even acted with ‘violence’ was when I felt cornered or actually being a target of it.

I have so many thought I want to let out through out the day. I just thought I’d combust if I kept in any more of it. Also, a quick note, it’s day 3 after my father beat me violently and expressed his will to kill me, counting the same day as day 1. I know my brain will likely suppress memories of that happening at all or the frames of action of the occasion, so I decided to note that down in case I am gaslit, or just have trouble remembering any ways.

Even before he beat me, I knew it was coming since he decided to start being aggressive with me days ahead, 2-3 days to be precise. It starts from nitpicking, taunting and then aggressive threats and being called worthless and then whatever this is. One fun fact is, these days I get called worthless so often by like both the parents and even their daughter and although my brother doesn’t directly say it, his treatment of me and his words are very loud in telling me how worthless he thinks I am. I am so used to hearing all of it now. Maybe a subconscious part of me has even internalized it, I just haven’t realized it yet."

and another journal 1 month and two days later:

"I have been feeling so fed up. So exhausted. Really on the edge. It’s hard to pretend things don’t hurt anymore. The fact that the remarks aren’t snarky anymore. Trying to explain myself won’t work. Complaining won’t work. Who’s listening. So acting clueless has to be my go-to to protect myself from just the extreme of the attacks made everyday. But even with that. The hurt has a limit. I can’t just handle it all the time. I’m human. It hurts. Hurts so much. I want to cry too. I want to cry and have a comforting hug from my true loved ones too. The ones that don’t let me down. I want an apology too. An apology like how I apologize. When meaning to apologize. And say words without defending how it was justified but they just don’t want to put up with having to deal with my silent treatment.

I crave the presence of those who hurt me and miss every time I could experience with them. I crave how that connection with them felt while it lasted. I miss so many people who were terrible to me. All I know. While there are people who’d do the most to support me if they could, at the end of the day, all I have is me. At the end of the darkest nights, the stars who bring me comfort are all me. The little streetlamps that light those nights on my path sometimes are those who are really there for me.

I want to be so loud and scream it all. I feel like I’m speaking some other language completely undecipherable by others. Like everything that comes out of my mouth is just filtered through as my worst and problematic. Continuously misunderstood. Do I just not speak things that make sense. Do I give the impression of a bullshitter? I lie so much about I how I feel sometimes. I know no one has the space and capacity to hear me just open my wounds and bleed all over them.

It feels so vulnerable to share it at all. Every word is used against you. There’s no system that is made to help people like me. Maybe because my problems aren’t as rare or bad. I’m just supposed to deal with it. It’s just my problem and not shove it on anyone’s face. I can blame it on my parents and they can blame theirs. Just how far does the blame system stretch at all. It might be mine to handle. All my problems. Just don’t blame me when my way of dealing with these problems is too extreme for you.

I would rather end my life as soon as possible as a final act of pure rebellion. Just to fight all the expectations they have of me. I don’t even see any life infront of me. There’s no future. Not for me. What to live for at all though. The political state of the world? For whoever; the patriarchy and misogyny? The homophobia and transphobia? The classism and elitism? The brutal genocide and apartheid? the religious fundamentalism? The cruelty of human nature is endless anyway and we should be lesser in population.

I can never allow myself to be molded how they want me to me. It’s not even about want at this point, every cell in my body fights against it when I have to act out any lie or stand quiet against any injustice. It makes my nerves go weak with adrenaline. It makes me shake and feel a pang in my chest. I will never be silenced.

I wish I had something as a child that made me actually bearable for me. Someone or anyone. Why does everyone have to betray me like this. Is it my punishment for not going with what they want for me. For speaking things without filter trying to please them in order to be punished less severely for it? Why do their hurtful words sting so much. When it comes from people I wantedly or unwantedly love deeply. I am pretty sure this isn’t something new. “Oh deary, mommy issues”, or “oh deary, daddy issues” or mental health, sense of justice, not liking being hurt bla bla. But doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Having no one to lean on for 20 years and so and still having to put up with it with no end in sight feels so draining. Life is not a fairytale to be expecting any better either. Life is cruel and unbearable. My experience may be common. Maybe many people just work it out and figure it all out without help too. Salute to them. But, I’m not that strong to stay for it. Maybe I am even weak. I just don’t have anything to live for anymore.

Maybe religion would’ve prevented me from feeling this, feeling like there was some god listening to me and being there, and prayed for a miracle (spoiler alert: already did all those things and yeah here we are). Or maybe even having the fear of going to hell for trying to escape my pain in this world might’ve repelled me out of the thoughts. But even religion and god betrayed me. My existence for what I am, is all a sin itself. I have no love for me there; hence I started finding for my own meaning."

these were written at one of the lowest times in my life where i was diagnosed heavily depressed and was suicidal for months, even SSRIs didn't help. i didn't honestly note down the lowest of the lows since i didn't everything i could to distract myself from the agony. it was so bad that i skipped my periods once or twice, and i've never gotten my periods earlier or later than 2 of the set date.

i don't think i've been this vulnerable ever in my life, not even with my closest friends or therapist.

for context, my parents, especially my dad, have been very very violent and abusive towards me. and each time they're done with that, they always don't forget to say that other kids usually fix themselves after they get slight beatings, what kind of fucked creature am i to still stand up to defend and protect myself, since i was a very young child, before i even started creating memories i remember now. my sister, older and alot bigger than i was, would always beat me up and i'd fight back while being pinned under her and it'd be considered an equal fight and i'd also still be the bad guy(as a 5 year old).

as a kid i used to be so ashamed of letting anyone know i get beaten and abused at home. anyone finding out sounded embarrassing and somehow my fault. i still feel very ashamed and embarrassed to let anyone know except my childhood friend. it was a very hard thing to mention and answer when my therapist asked me about it. it felt embarrassing to choke up on my tears while i spoke.

2 years ago, I cut off my mom for being manipulative and abusive. Growing up, I was the black sheep of the family and was physically abused by my older brother (30m). Because of the abuse I had to endure from my mom and brother, I had destructive behavior from 12-14 years old. My mother always thought I lied and she always favored my brother despite the abuse the household endured. When he attacked me in 2022 (I was 17), I filed an order for protection against my brother and it was granted. He could not stay in the house with the rest of the family. My mother ignored that order and snuck him in while I was asleep for a month. When I found out about that, I called the cops and he was arrested again. My mother kicked me out at 17 and I jumped around from place to place. I was always nervous having no contact with my mother but I finally cut her off 2 years ago.

Since the beginning of this year (I’m 21 now), I always cried and grieved for my mom everyday. Anytime I hear my roommates talking to their moms I tear up and I always wish my mom was good enough for me. I know she isn’t a good person and she put me through hell but I miss having a mom. Does anyone else feel this way? If so, how do you deal with the grief of an abusive parent who is still alive?

TW:emotional abuse, sexual(?) Abuse, physical abuse, possible mentions of self harm and suicide

I(21F) have a horrible mother, and it sickens me when I see people talk to her not knowing how much of a fake bitch she is.(idk if this is sexual abuse thats why I did a question mark above) When I was 4 I was being a naturally curious child and checking out my body, my mom came into my room and seen what I was doing next thing I know im pinned to the bed and she has a knife slicing my pubic area and shes yelling at me to never do that again because its disgusting and horrible, now I have a fucking scar im self conscious about. When I was 10 I was hanging out with a friend at school, I swung my arm around her like friends do and I accidentally hit her boob and she said "my boob lol" apparently a teacher overheard the word "boob" and pulled my friend aside and my friend being an innocent 10 year old told the teacher I touched her boob(she didnt mention it was on accident because she didnt know whay bad touch was and nether did i)next thing I know I get home from school and walk up some stairs to get to my front door, I opened it and I got punched so hard I fell down the stairs and blood sprayed everywhere, before I could speak my mom walked down the stairs yelling and she picked me up by the throat and had me dangling while she slapped me over and over. When I was 13 I was failing all my classes in school because I was so depressed so my mom punished me by dragging me along to her nighshift job and forced me to sit in a chair all night and stay awake and she would come by and pinch me till I bled when I started to fall asleep. Multiple occasions we would argue and she would tell me to take my glasses off and hand them to her so she could put them somewhere safe before throwing me to the floor and kicking me while I was curled up into a ball. I hate lasagna and everytime she made it I would throw it away and she would find out and made me eat out of trashcan and I would be gagging and puking it back up and she would make me eat that too. She would lock me in my room for hours on end and not give me food or water. I remember once I was crawling out of my bunkbed(I had one leg on the ladder and one on the bed) and she screamed "if i hear you make one for damn noise I will come up there and make you regret it!" Because my bed was squeaky so for 3 hours I stood in that position of one leg on the bed one on the ladder until I heard her go to bed and knew it was safe to move again and my legs were cramping so much. God this is barely scratching the surface with the shit shes done to me..but I feel lighter knowing many people are gonna know how much of a demon she is, she is Satan himself. This is just a rant I dont need authorities involved please and thank you

I think that I was abused by my older brother. He has level 3 autism that makes him nonverbal. He was never taught how to regulate his emotions properly (my parents didn't bother about that and made it my 2 eldest sisters' problem). Whenever he gets upset, he hits objects and people. When I was a younger child, he would hit or throw things at me. It would be extremely random, usually he was frustrated about something. My earliest memory of him is him throwing a toy tricycle at me because he was upset. Ever since then, he targeted me when he was upset. He would push me, hit me, punch me, shove me, throw things at me, etc. My dad and eldest sister did step in, but they only hit him to make him stop, and I think that made him worse. After some time though, he stopped hitting me and only used objects instead, but the damage is already done. I can't be in a room alone with him because it makes me uncomfortable and scared that he will get upset again. I also flinch whenever I hear a loud noise.

I am asking this subreddit because my siblings and family don't really take this seriously enough. My mom is brainwashed and believes that his autism is a perfect excuse for what he did, she also treats him like a child (he's 21). She sometimes also got attacked by my brother. My Dad doesn't really understand how bad it is for me and my family as he's working most of the day. I can't really explain for all of my other siblings (I have 4 including my brother.)

I don't really hate my brother. To me, hate is a really strong word. I understand that he's like this because of my parents. I don't hate him, but I know that I'll never like him or consider him as my brother, as their isn't really anything likeable about him.

I'm sorry if this post is such a mess, this is all coming out straight from my head. If you have any questions, please ask me. Thanks.

Hi everyone, I'm female, my partner is male.

This is going to be a long one, but I really need advice. My partner and I have been together for almost three years. We lived at my mum’s place until we found our own flat six months ago. Everything was great—until this week.

I’ve been in three abusive relationships in the past, so I’ve done therapy and learned a lot about anxiety, attachment, avoidance, and red flags. I’ve always been careful to spot signs and walk away early. I thought I had the tools to avoid repeating patterns.

With him, it was different. He treated me really well. I was grateful to finally find someone after being single for five years. I’m an independent person—I traveled in Argentina solo at 20. I’ve done things even men are scared of; I’m a strong person. I felt like I finally found my place: a good flat in a nice village, friendly neighbors, a partner who smiled when I came home, He do thing women would dream he do thing with out me even asking, I said once he did it never to ask agein, I was grateful for everything he dose for me. and someone who shared communication efforts. We sit have deep converstions about society and emoison, hourmes, mental health ect. I felt I could be fully myself around him and safe. I mostly did the cooking by choice because I enjoy it; he even joined in sometimes. He can cook mostly basic food, and I was fine with only asking him to cook once a week.

Then it happened.

On Monday, after rugby training from 5–9 pm, I came home tired and sweaty. I’d asked him to make dinner one night a week while I trained. He said he wanted to make pasta, but I asked for something lighter, like burger and chips. When I got home, the food wasn’t ready yet, and there was minced beef in a pot on the stove. I made a light joke about it in a jokey way—like “what the fuck is this?” (In Scotland, we swear a lot). Before I went to the bathroom, I asked him to deal with my rugby kit, which he did. Cool.

I went to the bedroom to get changed. He came in the bedroom and suddenly screamed in my face, calling horrible things. I used to work as a carer, so I’ve seen abusive behavior before and I’m trained how to handle moments like this. He restrained me over some IKEA boxes and punched me in the head. At that point, I kicked him in the balls to make him release me. He tried to trap me in the room, but I managed to move past him—I rugby-tackled him out of the way. Then I tried to calm him down like I was trained, but he didn’t; he kept screaming, “Why are you not hearing me?” I then lost my temper and screamed, “I’m not listening to someone who’s screaming at me!” He stormed off to his computer and was never heard from again. I packed some things and left, went to my mum place.

It’s been five days since the incident. I went back briefly to the flat to pick up more things while he was at work. Paper work ect, Other than a brief exchange about a package, he hasn’t contacted me. My mum, a mental health nurse, now won’t let him into her house, which he used to do freely. She even thinks this is odd for him and abusive to act out of the blue like this. She thinks I need to have a conversation with him. What ever I said trigger something in him, I know it not my job to fix him, he need to take account what he has done. He dose not, well we walk away on different paths. I still need talk about moving my thing out ect. By law he cant lock me out anyway. My name on the rental agreement.

I’m confused and shaken. He’s never acted like this before—he’s not into red pill stuff, he doesn’t drink or play violent games or watch anything violent, let alone porn. His family are mostly women, and there were no prior incidents of name-calling or shouting. It came out of nowhere. I feel like I can’t trust men anymore. I also feel like I need a conversation with him to understand what happened while I was at rugby. This isn’t like him. It was like he was almost drugged—like Hulk came alive. My mum is saying to wait seven days, then message him to have a conversation. I need to arrange my belongings and rental, etc anyway, I don’t think I will move back in with him; I have to have my own place from now until he proves he is safe to date. I dont think I can now fully trust to live with a man, anymore.

My brother and his girlfriend don't live together. They been together 7 years. I see this maybe becoming the norm for most women now. End of the day I want peace.

Has anyone been through something like this? How should I approach this situation?

I have been like a toy to my parents lately whenever they have any kind of quarrel they use me like a punching bag throwing slaps punching my chest beating me with canes and today they crossed the line again its not once twice today i cant believe they were throwing words at each other and i just said mom i am hungry can i get some food it was 10:00 at that time. When i asked without a second delay she turned over me and said we are talking why are you interfering came towards me and punched me in the face i quickly started bleeding and then she caught my neck and suffocated me it was not over my father took a belt tied it over my neck and streched it and i passed out after some time when i woke up many neighbours were near me and they were sitting atound said dont be soo dramatic just some normal canes wont pass you out they were saying lie infront of a crowd i said everyone what they did no one trusted me and went away sfter i went home i didnt get to eat when i asked for a glass of water they said haven't you had enough or you want more i said sorry and went to sleep the whole night i cant sleep just a thought in my mind are they my parents and guys i am suffering from this everyday and nkw my life feels like hell. Any suggestions to overcome this and some kind words would make me feel good and will be enough for me.

 I was a mature child so my parents automatically put all the responsibility on me. I had to make sure my two younger sibling and my older sister stayed out of trouble, it was so much responsibility for a child. 

Every moment I felt like I was going to break and I walked on eggshells around everyone and one day I did break, I just snapped. I started getting into fights regularly but I still had good grades(keep in mind I'm 8-9 when I start doing this). I didn't gaf what anyone thought and I had a short and sharp temper that exploded into blind rage. One time I punched and beat up my brother so bad he hid behind a door and my siblings had to hold me back. 

Guess what happened after elementary school...I got sent to boarding school with my older sister. It was horrific. I'm from Nigeria...I'm pretty sure everyone knows the methods of discipline in Nigeria, boarding school is 10x that. I went to a navy school we're they were giving us "military training" which included flogging with canes, belts, hangers, metal rods, wires getting metal/plastic buckets thrown on our heads etc. (to horrific to list). It was hell on earth and it really tamed my temper. 

My mom introduced me to her colleagues' daughter, lets call her R and said we should be best friends. R was kind, supportive and fun to be around. She was my only friend. And I genuinely thought we would be best friends forever, I told her everything, all my dark thoughts, about how sometimes I felt suicidal etc. 

Then she started acting inappropriate, in our hostels people would dare her to touch her self inappropriately and she would in front of everyone without any hesitation, but still I remained her friend. 

Then one day I walked into our room and saw her telling everyone my private dark thoughts that I confided in only her and my diary, she was literally showing everyone my diary. Still I acted like I didn't see anything and acted like her friend but I was sick of it. 

I slipped a note into R's bag explaining why I didn't want to be her friend anymore and thought that was a good enough way to cut ties...but I was wrong really wrong. 

I walked into my room and saw her crying as she read my note in front of everyone while playing victim and adding lies to what I said. Everyone called me a horrible person because she told them I said she should kill herself when I didn't say that at all. 

My life became even worse. I had no friends, I was constantly being picked on by seniors and my classmates, people stole my school supplies, my money and my food. They cut up my uniforms or stained them so I couldn't wear them but I stitched them and wore them anyways because I didn't want to worry my parents. They shaved my hair when I was sleeping, made me crawl under a table while they each took turns hitting and kicking me. One day I almost got SA'd but I ran away. I was so scared and I didn't have anyone to help me, not even my older sister because she just ignored me. 

I had suicidal thoughts(I was 10-12 years then) and started piercing myself with pins and sewing needles, nothing too visible. They tortured me for 2 years till I left the school eventually moving to Canada. 

I had social anxiety but my parents just thought I was shy. I almost hanged myself but someone, lets call her B, saw me and stopped me from doing it. I had trust issues and I started dissociating but no one except B actually knew how close I was from breaking. B helped me make new friends, she helped me come out of my shell, she stood with me even when I told her harsh things because I was scared. B became my best friend for a year then I moved again. 

I'm 14 now, I'm doing better, I learnt how to trust people again, I have friends and a boyfriend, I still have nightmares and I sometimes flinch from quick movements but that's all. I've been clean from self harm for almost a year. My parents don't know anything and I don't plan on telling them. 

I was in a mentally, sexually, and physically abusive relationship in high school. Hid it from my family, lived in shame, covered the bruises with makeup, the works. We broke up a little over 6 years ago.

We’re renovating the family house. There’s this one vase that has sat on our gun cabinet for as long as I can remember. It holds various things, just a catch all for random bits and bobs. The “oh, we don’t want to lose that, throw it in the vase” type of thing. Keychains, old dog collars, sentimental stuff.

My mom decided she wanted to move it, and of course, it needs to be dusted and emptied. All these small knickknacks that had meaning hundreds of years ago (it seems) that have lost the meaning over time.

At the bottom of the vase laid a chain, some rusted old thing - nothing fancy. On the chain though, a class ring. I didn’t recognize it at first. But after looking at it closely, I realized. This is a class ring I became very familiar with, one of those big ole ones that they sell at the school for a ridiculous fee. The big clunky ones, with a stone in the middle.

Standing in the kitchen, it set in. This ring cut me when he hit me, slapped me across the face. I still have the scar. I still remember the feeling of it digging into my skin, leaving a mark that still hasn’t faded, over 6 years ago.

The ring his family took a loan out to get him, that was a huge fight between his parents. His mother said a kid oughta have something to remember the best years of his life. His dad said it was a waste of money. The next day his mother sported bruises on her body, flowering against her skin.

I have the ring. Six years later. I don’t remember the why, how did it end up in my possession? How did it end up in the vase?

Now, something about me, once I love someone - I love them for life. I’m a ride or die kind of person. My heart still remembered the smell of his leather jacket, the feeling of his hands on my thighs, the sounds of him playing video games as I drifted to sleep next to him. He loved this ring, it was a prized possession for him. Once he got it, it never left his hand.

Did he look for it, fruitlessly? Is it something he’s ashamed of losing? Does he think about it from time to time, wondering where could it have possibly gone?

The world continues on, yet here I am, 6 years later, still feeling the same shame and fear.

I have recently left an abusive relationship. I was emotionally abused for months and didn’t even clock it. This person got physical with me 10 days ago, and i had to cancel my birthday plans on the day due to facial injuries, to protect the person who did this to me. I thought it wouldn’t happen again. It then happened on monday, and I was arrested for ABH for protecting myself. I was released without charge because after seeing my injuries, they knew it wasn’t at all how my ex made it seem. I have severe bite marks on my back, my ear was bitten so hard it bled, I had chunks of my hair pulled out, black eyes and bruises to my neck, you name it.

I don’t eat anymore because my ex told me I was fat so often. I was cheated on while I was at the same pub as my ex. I cut off all my friends because my ex told me I had no friends. I don’t know who I am anymore. I feel like all of this and the rest of what my ex did doesn’t matter anymore, because the physical injuries are healing. I don’t feel that the fear I have, and the panic, and the trauma is even real because I am starting to look myself again. I feel like I’m lying and I have no right to feel this way.

I don’t even know what the point of this post was. I’m just so conflicted and empty. How can I get through this? How do I heal when I don’t even feel I have anything to heal from anymore?

I always struggle to open up about this subject, so apologies ahead of time if i’m not always the clearest. But i just want to get this out there regardless if i get any responses.

Just to be safe i won’t give too many details about myself, but for as long as i can remember, my dad has physically abused my mom. My brother (now 25ish?) and sister (20) have all experienced it too, so much so it’s become normal to us. We all hate it, but even if we never say so i know we all feel powerless to help.

It always starts the same, my mom will “do” something to tick him off, and from there the screaming starts, and then the hitting, and it can take damn near all day until he lets up, sometimes longer.

What makes me most angry is that he does this all while being fully aware of what he does to her, me and my siblings have all told him off at least once and he thinks he’s in the right. He claims that our mom’s some animal, a dumb bitch that won’t understand anything unless you beat it into her.

Our extended family is aware, everyone is aware, he doesn’t even hold back at work (he runs his own business). It hurts me more to acknowledge why me and my siblings don’t help. My brother has a family to take care of, my dad has altered his thinking to the point where he doesn’t think he’d get anywhere if he stopped working for my dad. My sister is at college, if she stepped too far out of line, her education could be in trouble. So i’m alone in the house, stuck between them two. I’m still in school, so my only real “support system” is my parents.

Lengthy exposition, i know. But i say all this because my mom told me something that troubled me, and i had to talk about it somewhere.

She asked if i HAD to go to school tomorrow. Of course i do? Her reason for asking was that she really needed the help at work, she’s in her fourties so you can imagine why work is beginning to trouble her. School has been the only thing my parents have really been adamant about throughout my life, they never cared about my extracurriculars, hobbies, or interests. Just how that report card looked when it came time to see them. So for her to basically ask me to skip school just to help? It caught me off guard.

It just made me realize that i dont know how much longer my mom can keep doing this, it should’ve stopped so long ago, but even now i don’t know what i could possibly do. I feel as if the ending to this was very lackluster/anticlimactic, but when discussing topics like this, i think i tend to shutoff and forget my trains of thought. So once again, i apologize.

I’m not even sure if this is the right sub to take this to but i saw some similarish accounts of people’s experiences so i figured it was worth a shot. If by any chance this gets some traction, ill try my best to respond to anything within comfort. Thank you.

Possible trigger warning for discussing different types of abuse.

Thankfully I was able to leave my ex 5 years ago. He abused me physically, mentally , emotionally and sexually.

He attempted to end my life multiple times and seemed to take joy in it ( he'd laugh at me for being scared while holding a knife to my throat ) and brain washed me into thinking that God wanted me to be abused.

That's just the tip of the iceberg , its too much to type out. But now 5 years later I still have daily anxiety. I did basic therapy but never went indepth.

I tried to go more indepth with my current therapist but she acted extremely shocked by the stuff I tried opening up about and I felt embarrassed by how extreme the abuse was.

She ended the conversation by saying I should do yoga to feel safe in my body and just seemed uncomfortable when I start to tell her what happened to me. Maybe im projecting my own uncomfortablness , im not sure.

This turned into venting lol. Good news is he is now about to serve 12 years in prison for robbery and knidnapping someone after I left him. I always worried about him finding me ( i moved across the country away from him ) so at least I don't have to worry about that for a while.

TLDR: what steps have helped you feel safe again? I feel like i should be back to " normal " now but i still have frequent nightmares and chronic anxiety.

I doubt my own mind from all of this and just can't believe still that it all happened. It was like crazy horror movie but it was real and I just can't believe it all happened.

sooo its been a year and a half since I left my abuser and I've barely dated. I went one two dates and was mostly anxious in both of them. Recently I met someone who I really care about and I could picture a future together. But I don't know how I know if i'm really ready to date again. I'm so terrified that the next person will be even worse somehow. Even though the new person (M) is nothing like my abusive ex (F), im worried that he will be an abuser just like her or worse. I cant live through it again. I barely made it out alive. I have so much peace and have healed so much since. I just dont know how anyone knows whether their healed enough to take a the risk. I talk to my therapist about it and hes wonderful, but I think i need to hear another survivors experience. When I first got out, I couldn't imagine life ever feeling good again. I couldn't imagine feeling joy or excitement. I had no idea how I would ever live a real life again and now i'm actually pretty okay. Its not everything I want my life to be, but its getting there. I'm so scared that i'll fuck up my progress by being in another relationship. Would love to know your thought...

i added in the nsfw mark bc i described some of the things that happened to me. i know this is a child abuse reddit so they is probably mature stuff on this but i added just in case

my mom and dad used to argue a lot when i was a kid. around 5-7 or maybe even younger but thats when i remember. they never hit eachother but they would yell a lot and sometimes throw things. we had a few marks and dents in the wall bc they threw chairs and shit.

they hit me to but it wasn't anything like punching or anything. they would slap me, sometimes drag me around, grab my hair, throw me into walls, hit me with hangers or anything they could find. it was usually my mom not my dad and whenever my dad did hit it was a lot less then my mom and lasted for a shorter period of time. i was a pretty annpying and hard to deal with kid (from which i now know was bc of my autism and adhd) and i would often get hit the most out of my siblings. i had extreme anger issues and never knew when to shut up.

when i was around 5-9 when they would hit me i would go to them afterwards and they'd apologize then hug me. it was usually pretty nice after wards and we'd even joke about it and shit. sometimes the reasons were bc i made to much noise when my mom was working, annoyed one of my siblings, hit one of them, broke something etc. i dont remember most of it but i categorize it into major and minor beatings. minor beatings are like a small slap, a hit, something either small or it only took less than 2 mins. the major ones are the ones where i get hit harder (hair pulling, dragging me by my shirt till it rips, thing like that.) i dont remember most of the major beatings usually only the start then the after math. i think i only remember 7-8 total major beatings in my lifetime.

when i hit puberty (10) i got even more difficult and started gettting hit and yelled at more. me mom would often insult me abt things and then deny that that was insulting or say that it was allowed bc she is my mom. after a while i stopped going to them (11-12 ish) and stopped hugging them. my love language used to be touch (still is) but i hate touching ppl now.

then we moved to australia (they didnt tell me we were moving and even got angry that i was upset about it, this was what started my trust issues in them) and thats where i learned i might've have been abused (when i was 13-14)

im still unsure though bc i have happy moments with them, they praise me when i do good, pa for everything i need including luxuries, got me a cat, and i do sometimes laugh with them. me and my mom specifically (she is the main perpetrator) have a tense relationship and we arent as close as we used to be.

i talked to one of my friends abt this on discord who also had parents like these and we would often talk abt our experience bc we had no one else. it always felt more like venting about overbearing parents then discussing abuse to me though. my mom looked through my texts without my permission and a major beating occurred after that. she tried apologize but i didnt want to listen or accept it.

they have started hitting me less since then and i think i have only had one major beating since the start of the year. she still insults me and says harmful things but i dont get hit and if i do its not that big. when she does hit me it starts to feel clearer like i know this is wrong but if i go too long without it i start to doubt myself and maybe im just overreacting? i've tried to do things that might get me hit but for some reason i freeze up when we're right on the edge of it and they leave it at that.

i wasnt able to recognize when i pushed to far as a child but now i can and im just not able to push them further over the edge. i just freeze up

i know this might sound stupid to question whetehr this is abuse or not but i hae lived witht hem for 14 years and i have more good memories than i do bad (could also just be the supressing but i would like to believe that) im just confused and i havent been able to talk to my friend lately and i want confirmation and ppl to make me feel like im not crazy or overreacting

My mother was a very hostile person, had zero patience, extreme anger issues.

Growing up, the abuse started when I was around 7-8, I’m not sure, I don’t even remember most of my childhood, I remember the bad things, nothing else.

My mother would always teach me lessons with physical and verbal abuse, mainly physical.

The mistakes were very little, like arguing or being framed by my sisters for little childish things.

She would do stuff like hitting me with a rolling pin, putting fire against my arm while threatening me, putting a knife against my arm, shoving chili powder in my mouth, blocking my mouth from breathing while I cried, pulling my hair and ears, slapping me over and over these slaps were very aggressive, full forced slaps, digging her long nails into my skin and dragging them across my arms creating heavy bleeding tears, locking me in a dark bathroom alone, abusing me after every answer I got wrong (we later at 15 discovered I have a little learning disability) those are all I can think of for what she did to me, there’s for sure way more.

I don’t know how to feel, obviously she can’t really do those things since I’m old enough and aware that those things are against the law, but she still verbally abuses me like crazy, it’s only sometimes where the hitting happens.

I can’t be anxious, I have myoclonic epilepsy and my motor and vocal tics get triggered, I was experiencing epilepsy since I was a kid but was neglected to being checked up until I was 15. My mood controls how I am, the neurologist said I am also very sensitive and that they won’t get better or controlled if I’m anxious.

Im always afraid of my mom, no matter what, even if she’s being nice, I feel fear inside, I always get a tic when she passes by me, I always flinch when someone even speaks to me or puts their hand a little towards me, my pain tolerance is so good now that I’m older, I don’t even know if that’s from the abuse, my mom noticed I have some behavioral issues so we are getting that checked soon. My parents recently got divorced so my mom has just been horrible for awhile but I get it.

I don’t know why she did those stuff to me, she knows what she did, I brought it up many times, she always says she’s a bad mother making me feel bad, I don’t know, saying I got abused feels wrong but it’s the truth. I was only a kid.

I don’t know if this has heavily impacted me as an adult but it for sure took away my childhood, I don’t remember even the littlest bits of it, I can only remember the abuse. Im a shy person, very anxious, I stand out, and I don’t mind that, I just feel like I am the way I am because of her. I still love my mother dearly that’s why I hate to admit this all happened.

My physical dad ran away when I was six months old. My mother was 23 back then. Immediately after my father had left her, she was approached by an attractive sports guy, who used to professionally play in the national handball league of Germany.

My stepdad started hitting me when I was around three years old. The strange thing is that I can remember it very vividly, although I was only three years old.

He kept on beating me through all my childhood. It wasn’t beatings as punishment, when I did something wrong. It was beatings whenever he wanted whenever he felt to give me a beating. Sometimes I was already asleep in my room, when the door swings up, the lights been switched on, I am pulled out of the bed by my leg and:or hair – to be kicked and beaten around my room as long as he pleased to.

When I turned 15 there was a day where I decided to fight back. I put on some working boots with steel toes and clinging on a stick my biological father and me once found at a walk in the woods. He carved this stick and gave it to me while we were on this walk.

As soon as my stepfather entered my room, I started swinging at him with the stick. The professional sportsman that he was made it easy for him, to pull a stick out of a teenagers hand. Fortunately, I also trained martial arts since I was 13 years old. This gave me the chance to use this moment, when he was reaching for and grabbing for the stick to give him a real heart kick with the steel toes right in his testicles.

He NEVER touched me again afterwards.

Today I found this stick at my mom‘s house. 28 years later. I’ll take it home and I’ll keep it.

I recently got out of an abusive relationship that I'm still realizing how abusive. An interesting thing that has happened is people have asked if he ever hit me and I can't confidently say no. Even within the relationship people would ask if he hit me and whenever I told them no it felt like lying. He didn't beat me or anything, but I can't say he never struck me out of anger. I can't say he never was aggressive with me. I can't say he never laid a hand on me. Idk how much it counts to being actual physical abuse but he definitely mistreated me and it's weird for me to accept because I was in denial for so long.

Idk if this is the right place.

So this happened a couple of weeks ago but the cheerleading team at a school in Oregon county Missouri got pretty openly assaulted by some Thayer school group consisting of some adult students and a few 17 yr old students. They call themselves the "boo crew" you can look up their page on Facebook idk if it's open or private but I think it's open. Thayer boo crew I'm pretty sure is what it's called. Anyway, they were throwing out very sexual words using threats of sexual assault on the cheerleaders and they were kicking them in the legs while they were cheering. One adult lady came to try to stop it and a huge commotion was made about it thanks to her and it was stopped for that specific basketball game but the cheerleaders say that happens every time with Thayer. The cheerleaders have pictures of one of the girls bruises and there are many people that heard the sexual threats so they know and want something done but there are also others that refuse to do anything like the schools. Both the school of the cheerleaders and the Thayer school couldn't give less of a f. The home school even banned the lady that stopped the abuse from going to any more events (there is a video showing what happened and its clear she didn't do anything wrong) and the Thayer principal knew about it ahead of time and didn't stop it.

The schools won't do anything besides banning a couple of the boo crew not all just a couple.

I have no idea what could be done about this besides letting as many people know as possible, sorry if anything is hard to read.

This is still going on

I'm (26m) struggling with the abuse I endured as a child now as an adult, I feel as if im quite a disturbed person with the things I think of and the intense negative feelings that take over me. I no longer talk to family I've made my own with people I've met over the years and they do think I'm a good person and they could be right but one thing I know is that I'm full of self hate and disgust due to what I had to do at such a young age to try and survive. I'm really sick in the head I know this is true just because of what I can physically do to myself oh man I don't really know where I'm taking this, I don't normally say anything but when I start I just get lost because there's so much to go through. It all just bleeds together into one huge shit storm and I'm losing my mind.

Glee season 3 episode 18 has plotlines about domestic abuse. it's nothing crazy but hearing the character talk about being abused made me start crying and felt so relatable. I really struggle with accepting that I was physically abused because it wasn't as bad as it could have been and he didn't really hurt me but truthfully he used his physical strength to scare and control me. sometimes I still doubt myself about it it was abuse or not, but whenever I see/hear depictions of abuse in media it always feels relatable and almost always makes me tear up. it's just interesting and weirdly validating

It’s been two and a half years since I left and chose survival over love, yet I can’t get myself to stop thinking about how that is the biggest regret of my life. I keep reliving the moments he choked me out and when I would wake up he said “what the fuck is wrong with you?” as if he didn’t just make me pass out. I keep reliving the days he would squeeze my thighs so hard that I would have to wear pants in the hot summer to not allow anyone to see the handprints. I keep thinking about the time he swung an axe at me and missed because he was too drunk.

There were so many warning signs in the beginning that I chose to ignore and I can’t help but think that it was all my fault. I still go back to the texts he sent me where he said “I’m going to rape you” and “I’m going to kill you”. Why didn’t I take it seriously? But more importantly, why do I still love him?

Honestly, despite all of the negatives it feels like our relationship was magical. He loved me more than anyone ever has. He would do anything for me, and I left him. I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe that I ruined my first love. I just wish I could go back in time and tell him how much I love him and stay by his side for the rest of my life. Thank god I’m following my brain instead of my heart, but does it ever get better? Will I ever stop loving him? Will I ever look back at the decision to leave him with no regrets?

trauma is so dumb. it's all like "oh no somebody dropped something and it made a loud noise so now I gotta think about getting hit!"

I guess this is a rant since I don't have anyone to talk to about this.

So I live in a small duplex. I live in a room between my neighbors and my sister + her boyfriend who's staying with us (so I'm basically in the middle). My neighbor has her baby and her boyfriend who scream at her baby nightly for crying, and then there's my sister and her boyfriend.

I grew up being abused by my father until I was about 9 years old (2016). I lived in a split parent household (it wasn't court ordered since they were never married but I found out in 2022-2023 that he said if we didn't see him he'd do a murder suicide with us) so the abuse at home regarding my actual parents was until I was 6 years old (2013) and then the rest was just us being alone with him. He had this tactic to bring me back where he would have my siblings give me gifts that he bought to try to get me to come out and come over but I never did. The one time that I did he threatened to kidnap me and never let my mom or anyone know and that he'd have me all to himself. I tried to get him to turn around and he didn't so I genuinely thought I was getting kidnapped by my own dad. He hated the fact I called my mom's house "home" and his house "dad's house" so he yelled at me about that. We got out of the house after he threw me into my bedroom by my arm and threw my sister into her bedroom by her ear.

I never wanted to go over because he had tried to do things like kill me by holding me down and waterboarding me infront of my siblings for not taking a swallowable pill, throwing things at me, screaming at me over small things like me brushing a tangle in his hair or talking about my mom, singing a song too loud, stomping too hard while walking, things like that. He abused my dog by kicking her and dropping her from high places (she lived to be 16 and passed in 2020 though). I had also watched him abuse my siblings. He didn't like my brother because my brother's dad passed away and my dad was his step dad so he reminded my brother constantly. He had strangled my brother on the ground until he couldn't breathe (he only stopped because I ran to the phone to call 911 when I was 5 since that's what the school told me when they suspected that I was being abused at home though my mom said to never call 911 when my dad was around), slap him hard across the face, try to snap his back over my spikey heart bedframe, things like that. My brother got the worst of it. He didn't really abuse my other brother or sister from what I remember since they were quiet and looked like him. My other brother protected me and I protected my little sister which meant that I got abused. My oldest brother and me got the most of it since we looked the most like our mom and also because we didn't go over to his house or like him. My dad would always call my mom names, scream at our mom, hit my mom, and throw the room apart and smash things. He would also accuse her of cheating ALLLL the time. I was in the room right next to theirs so I heard everything and got jolted out of my sleep to them yelling sometimes. I also always had nightmares alot so I would go into their room and sleep with them after I threw up from anxiety attacks. My mom always woke us up to take us into the bathroom with her and I still to this day don't know why because she never wants to talk about him. He would always make me the message man and make me tell her things that I didn't understand were bad until she started sobbing and I got confused. I was her rock then, she always wanted me there when she was sad and I think that's where my empathy comes from. I'm still very protective over her to this day. I tried to be protective over her as a kid but I got hurt by him.

Now, my sister and her boyfriend.

My sister brought this guy into our house. He's been living with us since July I think? Their room is to the left of me and the walls are paper thin so I can pretty much hear all of their conversations if I have my TV off. They were fine until recently. They had started to fight and I had made a joke about it since they would just break up and get back together every single day and I'd sit and listen through the walls and update my friend since it'd keep me up at night and it was extremely annoying being kept up until 12 am. What else can I do when I get 0 sleep? They didn't argue or get loud, just begging and her boyfriend being like 'I don't want to get back together' and then that same night they'd be fine. It was every. Single. Night.

Slowly it started to get worse. There was a day where I was listening and it went silent. I suddenly heard a crash and my sister leaving the room. She then went into the bathroom and tried to kick down the door. That made my heart start racing and was triggering my ptsd for ATLEAST 7 minutes. It was mild though since they weren't screaming or anything.

Then they start to get more violent. Every time my sister gets mad she starts to tear apart her room and beg him to stay. I'm talking things getting smashed and my walls getting banged. Then there's my parents coming in and screaming. I keep trembling and it's becoming uncomfortable for me. Ptsd attacks are getting worse.

THEN comes recent. Now it's nighttime and they're actually SCREAMING at eachother. Like full on SCREAMING. I have to sit there and endure them screaming while I'm shaking and trying to calm myself down until I can go to sleep. Even then it doesn't help because I get jolted awake in the middle of the night or the morning to them yelling or things getting thrown.

There was one day. I was confused because my sister's boyfriend was screaming. I was texting my friend "They're probably breaking up once again for the millionth time this entire year." I left the room since it starts escalating and I hear my sister leave the room. I told her to come downstairs with me to talk since my mom went into the room to talk to my sister's boyfriend to see what the hell was going on. Here's what happened. My sister had gotten an std MONTHS ago. She had chlamydia from a relationship before her current boyfriend and she told him and so they got it situated. Got EVERYTHING to keep themselves safe. She even got a second test to make sure it was gone and she had 0 stds in the results. They have been together the entire time he has been with her and have never strayed other than the time that my sister went to school (he made her drop out since he accused her of cheating for doing good in school) so she has had 0 chance of being with anyone else. This guy claimed that she gave him chlamydia and a uti and that google said so because his balls shriveled up. It is december and it is cold. He always accuses her of stupid shit and it constantly gets on my nerves. I told my sister to break up with him because this is straight up toxic and abusive and she won't listen to me. She said 'He's yelling' and ran upstairs. I told her no and tried to follow her but stopped halfway up the staircase because I wanted to hear wtf was going on. He was straight up accusing her of everything and blaming her. His dad and my mom were both trying to explain to him that google is not a doctor and that it's cold and normal for it to happen. He then has this huge outburst and grabs everything in her room and starts smashing and throwing it everywhere. He starts screaming and yelling and I go upstairs and just freeze up. I start shaking really bad and he starts bringing me into it to try to claim that I'm against him and I run into my mom's bathroom and have a full blown anxiety attack that lasts well over 10 minutes. Like I could not move. I don't age regress but it was more of age regressing to the age I was when I was being abused and in the moment. After the moment I came back to my normal 17 year old self, but I for a few days I wasn't able to remember the memory well without putting my dad in the place of my sister's boyfriend.

It didn't stop there, this kept happening while I was sleeping. I got 0 sleep. It got to the point where my dad would be in my dreams and then I'd get jolted awake. I finally got so pissed that I'd get up in the middle of the night and scream at them to shut the fuck up because they've been triggering my ptsd for atleast 2 months. It's just mainly my sister's boyfriend starting shit for absolutely 0 reason just because he wants to.

They've stopped to a degree but I still get jolted awake to them screaming at eachother and my parents intervening. I just don't know what to do anymore. I hate going to sleep at 3 am every night, I hate getting no sleep, I hate getting jolted awake, I hate having flashbacks every day, I hate having to have my tv on so loud, I hate having to get up and yell at them repeatedly, I hate being so incredibly aware of their voices through the walls due to them fighting so much now, I hate it.

TW: Sexual abuse, physical abuse, abortion

Back story: When I (f 21yo) was 15, I entered a relationship with a 16 year old male. He had previously had his eye on me for three years as we went to the same school but I didn’t know who he was. I thought this was cute at the time but when going into detail of how he exactly had his eye on me is creepy looking back as an adult. I said that i wasn’t keen on sleeping with him if he was a virgin as we were young and i had already had a previous relationship where i had slept with someone. He lied and said he wasn’t a virgin so we slept together and straight afterwards he came clean and told the truth in which i felt very manipulated because i wouldn’t have done it if i knew.

Exactly a year later, I fell pregnant. I had quite bad sickness from early on and he would purposely do things to make me ill (vape, eat certain foods around me etc) and then had an abortion. My parents were away on holiday so he was staying at mine during this period. The abortion was quite painful so I was prescribed codeine and antibiotics to take home to prevent any issues. This was emotionally taxing on us as teens so things got quite intense very quickly. I was in a lot of pain so made toast to take my antibiotics with and he was so angry i didn’t make him any so he headbutted me and that was the first instance of physical abuse. From there, it was almost a daily occurrence of hours worth of physical fights and abuse.

Later, he developed a porn addiction and would make me be intimate with him, using the addiction as an excuse.

As we got older, it only got worse with him locking me in a shed for days and seriously harming me, neighbours got involved and got me out of that particular situation. he would slam my head in doors and put pillows over my face and so on. I believe i am so lucky he didn’t kill me.

We officially cut contact when i was 18. Today, facebook recommended a ‘Person you may know’ and it was a girl who had a profile picture of him and her.

She looks very young and i am concerned that she may be experiencing similar to what i went through as she has no other social media.

He is now almost 23, would he have changed? we were both children going through a hard time but i almost feel like i have a duty to protect his new girlfriend in a way. i want no form of contact or drama with him so i have no plans on messaging her but i think i would like peace of mind that she is okay.

Thank you in advance.

edit: to clarify - the extent of the abuse has lead to long term reproductive issues which have been partially corrected with surgery earlier this year however still ongoing. just unsure how someone can be so awful then suddenly be “normal” ):

I just moved into a new apartment about a month ago. I live on the second floor. Beneath me, there is a unit with at least 4 children, some of them only living in the home on certain days of the week.

Immediately after I moved into this place, I heard the father screaming at the kids' regularly. Slamming doors, stomping around, and throwing things around loud enough to shake the house. Running around like he's chasing them through the house. Every day, I hear nothing but just constant screaming coming from the father and crying coming from the kids.

And... I work in preschools. I'm VERY used to the sound of crying children and I'm VERY good at determining the difference between normal child cries and cries of acute pain or distress. These are not normal cries. And it's constant, constant crying.

I can hear what I think is the father hitting his kids, to put it bluntly. The sound of what sounds like a strike followed by a child screaming/crying. Direct physical threats. It's unbearable to listen to.

I'm a mandated reporter of child abuse because of my job, so I've already reported what I've already heard to the appropriate agency. Because I'm a mandated reporter, I legally HAVE TO report child abuse when I am aware of abuse happening to a child I can identify, even if that child is not a child in my care/my class. I am legally prohibited from *not* reporting child abuse that I witness/overhear, so I don't get to do any moralizing on whether reporting is the right/best thing to do. Makes things simple in that way.

But reporting only does so much. Starting today, I'm keeping a written log of things I overhear with dates and times. Is there anything else I can do in this situation?

ETA: What about... not from the 'what can I do legally' angle, but what about a personal angle, just... is there anything I can do to let these kids know that I can potentially be a safe adult in the worst case scenario? I don't know their names, we all met on Halloween when I was handing out bags of chips to trick-or-treaters but it was brief and it was a chaotic night, as Halloween is. I see them in passing, rarely, if we're entering or leaving the building at the same time. I don't want to put myself in harms way if their parent knows that I'm on to them, or overstep boundaries, but.... fuck, man, it just breaks me to listen to these kids going through this when I've been through similar abuse myself. They should at least know that my apartment up the stairs is safe if their dad is ever trying to fucking kill them.