Emotional Hell
Ever had a relationship that was a nightmare? I guess it happens to many of us, but this is my worst nightmare. This is my story. Really, I don’t think this person deserves a story but if it helps anyone who has experienced a similar relationship feel less alone, then it is worth my time to share it with you!
I want to start by saying that this story will be a little jumbled and jumpy. This experience is still so extremely hard to explain, even 6 years later.
Trauma often has no words, just over stimulating feelings and flashes of memory. What you read in this blog is just that, flashes of memory.
I hope this story helps someone feel less alone, that it helps explain to others who haven’t experienced this type of abuse, what is really going on behind closed doors and how easily it can be swept under the rug or ignored. I also hope it shows how abuse is more than just bruises and that words are as good as chains.
All right…I’m stalling.
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In high school I found my “favorite”, we will call her Angie in this story.
She had always been a safe place for me.
I could tell her anything and know she would look at me all the same. She was my “right nut” and I was her “left”. I trusted her with everything in my being.
So when high school was over and moving 8 hours away was imminent, I was terrified of having to make new friends. Especially without my bestie. She was the social butterfly of the friendship! How was I going to find a whole new crew on my own?!
Luckily, fate stepped in once again and she was accepted to her college of choice, only a short drive away from my new home! I know that her amazing capabilities and brilliance are what got her the acceptance letter, but I like to think the universe wanted to keep us together.
Santa Cruz wasn’t ready for the duo!
Of course, being the butterfly she is, she somehow already knew a few people. One of those people was Carl.
Carl was a friend of hers from elementary school. They went to the same church and had known each other pretty well in the past. The weirdest part though? I used to go with her to some of those church events and had somehow never met him.
Three So-Cal kids in the same random town, at the same time? Meeting him felt kismet.
He had been in our town the longest and was fairly settled. He had a little apartment, he DJ’d for fun, and he was passionate about his job working in the forests.
19 or 20-year-old me was impressed. He seemed like he had his shit together and he exuded confidence, one that I had not seen before. Even though it was only us three in the room and we had just met, it seemed like he didn’t even notice me.
After dating BF#3, a serial cheater who was friendly with everyone, I was excited to explore a completely different personality. It sort of gave me a false sense of security. It felt like he was stingy with his attention, only giving it to people he deemed worthy, a breath of fresh air. I wanted him to see me so I could be one of those people.
I quickly became, Ms. I-Have-No-Opinion, Ms. Agreeable, Ms. Always-On-Point. Also known as, Ms. Nothing-Like-Me.
It seemed that when I played those rolls, I got more attention. The more attention I got, the more I tried. And the more he fed off of it.
After a while, it all paid off. We were “officially” dating. We spent a majority of our time at his house or hiking deep in amazingly, beautiful redwoods. He even had access to cabins, deep in the forest. No service, just us time.
I never thought twice about our secluded, intimate outings. At the time it felt amazing to be with someone who wanted to spend time with just me.
We went on adventures exploring cities around us. We visited other beaches, other restaurants, other breweries, other bars, but we rarely did anything in our own town. All I knew was that I was happy.
Eventually, relationships get real and true colors start shining through.
As amazing as his job was, it was seasonal and so was the pay. He kept saying didn’t need another job during the off-season but he quickly lost his footing. He was fighting with his roommate, the rent was rising, his car was on its way out, and he still didn’t have a cash flow. Me seeing this vulnerable side of him broke down his facade and his frustrations started bubbling up.
I could see him hurting, and I needed to fix it. My family agreed to let him move in with us. I let him drive my car whenever he needed it. I spent everything I had on him, emotionally and monetarily, anything to help.
(Codependency coming in hot!)
The grand gestures started. When he caught back up, he would pay me back, buy me a car, take care of us. He said anything to boost my vision of him, but I didn’t need the boosting, I was just happy he needed me.
I didn’t care about those material things; I was overjoyed that he saw us together in the future. I was feeding off the fact that he was planning to have me around long enough to “pay me back”.
When his job did start again, I took him to and from work. I changed my work schedule to match his and if I couldn’t change shifts, I felt terrible.
Gut wrenchingly terrible.
Partially because I didn’t want to add to his stress, but also because on the days I couldn’t pick him up, he would disappear for hours. You can only imagine the thoughts those disappearances would dredge up for me. It was as though I didn’t exist.
Even after he his job started again, I wanted him to know I would still help. He needed to save for his new motorcycle, he wanted to start his own business, to create his own money, to get “our life” secured.
Did he end up paying rent at any point?
No.
What about bills?
Again, no.
I was blind to him mooching off of my life, off of my sparkle. I was in love.
All it takes is a little confidence, a pinch of flattery, and a sprinkle of verbal abuse for a long lasting abusive relationship. I felt a twinge, a small feeling of dread deep down, but I couldn’t let him go. I was a bit damaged after all, my trust was a little shot, those feelings were the past creeping into my new relationship.
If only..