FUCK MY LIFE!!!
As I am clearly not a psychiatrist, I can not diagnose myself, but, I do believe that my depression runs deeper than the average. For the first time in awhile, I logged onto my online banking. The reason I had done so is because we went to the bank for me to take out my share of the mortgage and for the life of me I could NOT remember my debit card pin. After logging on, I noticed that I had spent the money. It.is.gone. How? Where? I wasn't hacked. It was all me. I know I purchased items for Christmas, but, the rest is gone.
This is not the first time this has happened. This is actually the second. And I do not remember spending it as I have nothing to show for it. I went into his room(yes, we sleep in different rooms) and with tears streaming down my face, broke the news to him. He didn't look at me, he didn't say a word to me. I knew.
I came back into my room and called B. After my doctor appointment, we are going to call around and see if I can get an appointment. Clearly I need help. I turned off my light, pulled my hoodie up over my head and just had a never-ending sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I asked myself "what is wrong with me?"
*sigh*
After a few hours, I went downstairs to get a pudding and came back up. He was on his way up to bed. He came in my room and stood at the foot of the bed. Turning on the flashlight on my phone, I faced it towards him. He ripped me a new asshole. He reminded me that this is the second time this has happened, I am taking advantage of his kindness, that he feels like he is living with his sister, as we don't have a sexual relationship. If I don't come up with the money by next month, he said I will be paying $100 more to live here, and if I don't, then I need to move out. He said more words, but, that was the gist of his one way conversation.
I began to sink into dark thoughts...again. Those little fuckers need to be squashed. Asap!!
This is a man that I have been dating for nearly two years. Prior to us dating, I told him of all my medical bullshit and my mental health. I even told him that I spent three days in the "looney bin" as I call it. I sent him many links about CVS, adrenal failure, chronic pain. He never read any of it.
He can be the biggest sweetheart and the biggest dick. Like, the dick of all dicks.
We've known each other since high school. He told me that he was in love with me back then, but never told me. My theory is that he was in love with me, the 18 year old, not the person I am today. Because if you REALLY loved someone, you would accept everything about them, the good and the bad. You would have their back, through thick and thin.
But, that's not the case. I am not 18 anymore. I am 44. I have lived life man. More than 20 years of that was shit. That was hardcore depression, agoraphobia, divorce, therapy for years, cutting, several moves, two brain tumors(benign)/surgeries, laying in a bed for four years with daily chronic headaches, four years of being a guinea pig, panic/anxiety disorder, occipital nerve stimulator implant, death of my beloved dog, witnessed the aftermath of a family members suicide, PTSD, Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome, two D&C's, ablation and more shit I am probably forgetting.
And YOU, a man who once proclaimed his love for me(almost two years ago) has the audacity to say that I either pay up or move out. Guess what buddy, I know my own self worth, so....
And apparently, your worth to him is if 1 - you are having sex with him, and 2 - you are paying the bills. Sad.
ReplyDeleteIt really is sad. And as you probably already know, the tone was not kind. It was very much mean, spitefully and down-right ugly. Like his heart and soul.
ReplyDeletesigh.....I was in the psychiatric unit twice both for more than 2 weeks before I met Wayne. Then twice after we were living together. When he came to pick me up in 2008, he said, "When is this going to stop?" In 2009 we broke up. I moved out in 2010. Then fell really low b/c of being severely over-medicated. I started to have psychiatric fuges and was shoplifting....at 34. I was imprisoned for 6 days in another county in the neurological ward. I was doing weird things b/c of klonopine....10mg a day. Then the new doc (who was jailed in later years for dolling out any meds) switched me to xanax and I picked up a hitchhiker and was sexually assaulted. Somehow, with the help of some really good mindful therapists, I made it through and off of all the dopey meds. I was living by myself, but still dating, which I shouldn't have been....at all. But started to learn more about myself and my traumas (which you know some of them). In 2013, Magically Wayne and I got back together and I moved back. He now goes to almost all the mental and physical doc appts. He's met my therapist, but doesn't attend those, unless requested (& has in the past). Fortunately, he has only known the abused bd. But during my training in the mental health field as a peer specialist, it opened up tons of doors in a very, very long hallway to self-awareness. Again facilitated by some terrific therapits....4 that I mentioned in that one blog. And some pretty shitty ones, too, in that time frame. Start making plans, dear. I know nothing of Berks Co. help, but B does. It takes, what seems like forever, but you will get there. With 0 spoons or a drawer with infinity spoons, you will get there.
ReplyDeleteHe knew your situation before you even moved in together. NOW he decides that he doesn't like what's happening? Plus, he has some issues of his own, that he needs to work on. Seems like he brings you down, more than he raises you up, or makes you happy.
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