A Domestic Abuse Story!!!

This is a very sensitive story, please comment with caution...Thank you!!!

This physical violence story started with simple jealousy and slight emotional abuse, but soon escalated into a serious abusive relationship, which she had to escape. This is her physical abuse story:
I met my husband when I was 16 and had little experience with men before. After two weeks, he questioned me about my past and I truthfully told him I had only been to the movies with a couple of boys. He refused to accept it and told me what I had done with them, although it wasn't true. He forced me to sit in his car in the hot sun crying and begging while he demanded I admit to his theories. I only told the truth which was that I'd held hands with them and kissed. He flew into a rage and wanted me to justify to him why I let them do it to me, despite the fact that I never knew him then.
 

A few years later, he sneered at me that he had tracked down these boys and paid them a visit. The little family that I had was always abusive to me so didn't bother with what was going on. Every time I tried to end the relationship he would stalk me, smash up the little I did have, then say he would change and that I was his little girl and he couldn't bear to share me. He made lovely promises; he would take me to the ballet, hiking, buy me things etc., but I never got any of them.
  Once, I organised a hike along the coast and he did everything possible to ruin it, and when I sat there crying and disappointed, he kept me awake for over 24 hours while he smashed up the house and shouted abuse. He never seemed to care that neighbours and people in the street could see and hear him. He bullied me into marriage and carried on trying to control me. Nothing I did was good enough, my pet suffered, all the nice things I had were smashed up, and I was alone with no-one to turn to.
  After many years together and him squandering all our money and running up huge debts he started an affair. He denied it and very coldly told me he wanted to go out, but I couldn't as I worked with men so had no right. I left and then he stalked and stalked me. After one terrible night of his drunken physical violence, he was arrested and a panic button installed. I had dialled 999 and left the phone off the hook and the police had heard him saying if he couldn't have me no one else could. If this hadn't have happened I know he would have killed me.
  Even after many years and countries apart, I finally dared to open a very private Facebook account but felt very nervous about it. A friend told me he has put one single entry under places visited on Facebook; and that happens to be a tiny teashop in a remote town that she works in. He just has to let me know he is still there and watching anything I do on Facebook. I know I can never go back to my home town to live, but I've got a good quality of life here; something I would never have if I went back ... and something I must never let him know I dare have.

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