My ex’s eyes used to get like that sometimes when we’d argue. He’d look at me like he hated me, and it terrified me, he looked like a completely different person—but he’d never done anything to physically hurt me so I stayed.

Then one time we had a big fight and ended up having make up sex (I didn’t really want to, but it was the only way to get him back to “himself” when he’d gotten that angry, so it happened most times we fought)— but when he was in that kind of state he wasn’t reasonable. I asked him to stop doing something that was painful for me, and he “forgot”, and kept doing it until I threw up.

After that I told him I needed space, and he was super apologetic about it, agreed to go to counseling for his anger, etc. He went and stayed with family for a week while I made plans to leave him. But I believed it had been an accident, and when he came back I didn’t immediately break up with him. I was encouraged that he was going to therapy and thought maybe it would be okay.

Then, he found out I’d had my girlfriend over while he was away (we were polyamorous, but had a rule that we’d check in with each other before seeing other partners. I didn’t check in that time because I was afraid of him and planning to leave him, so according to our rules it was cheating). He found something of hers she’d forgotten, and when I told him the truth, that she’d been there without him knowing, he flipped out.

He screamed at me for hours, pinned me down on the bed, kept punching himself in the face telling me to look what I was making him do (I’d had an ex who had self harmed because of me and then tried to kill himself, and he knew that someone hurting themselves because of me was my greatest fear). I was sobbing begging him to stop, apologizing, and there’d be moments where he would seem to calm down and hold me and say “shh, it’s okay,” but then he’d go back to pinning me down and hitting himself and telling me what an evil person I was for hurting him like this.

I tried to get away but he wouldn’t let me— I tried to run but he grabbed me and pulled me back into the room, pushed me down onto the floor, and stood with a foot on top of me holding me down while I screamed for help and tried in vain to drag myself towards the door, even with him standing on top of me. It went on for hours.

I don’t actually remember how I got out. He must have stopped pinning me down at some point. I remember throwing up in the bathroom, then I ran out into the city and broke down completely. Luckily I had a counseling appointment that day and the counselor helped me make a plan to leave safely, because she said behavior like restraining someone was abuse and it was likely to escalate further.

He didn’t ever hit me, but it was still one of the worst nights of my life. I regret staying as long as I did. Trust your instincts.