Limited Sanity

We’re finally into the second half of the year, something I’ve been looking forward to since before the start of 2022 because all signs are pointing to it’ll be amazing and make up for the last few years of crap.

I’m waiting for that “amazing” part to kick in because on Saturday July 2nd, my eight year relationship ended and I moved back in with my mother. Yep, I can hear Dr. G’s voice in my head already “What the hell are you thinking?” But really, I had no other option. Trust me, I looked. After 8 years together and him not working since last November, I didn’t have a cache of funds available to just up and move. As awkward and as emotional as the weekend was, I was thankful he made himself scarce so I could gather my thoughts and my belongings. And now, nine days post separation, I can honestly say that it was probably for the best, for all involved.

Thursday, July 7th, was the first day I felt like things would actually be okay and work out as they’re meant to. Whether that means our story is over is yet to be seen, but over the first 5 days I had a lot of internalized thinking and analyzing of every part of our relationship, like one naturally does, and had a bit of an epiphany. I wasn’t necessarily looking for one, but things started to make sense as I shared some of the details and things he was saying to me and putting me through at this time. He’s a covert malignant narcissist. Yes, that’s a mouthful and narcissism is thrown around A LOT when trying to describe selfish, unbecoming behaviors, but after hours of pouring over articles, YouTube videos from mental health professionals, and listening to podcasts, man does a lot make sense.

Here are some of the pieces that now fit:

• The way he speaks to and about his ex baby mama. Yes, she was crazy when we first started dating, but it also left me wondering what he had done to her to make her this way. She’s told me for a long time that he’s unstable and needs help, now I see why. I’ve heard their conversations/arguments and he is generally the aggressor and likes to question everything, even if it’s just to be difficult. She’s a mom of five, our lives are very, very different and he was never accommodating in any way to her and even had me believing the lies and hating her. Now I’m not sure if it was solely because of his influence or not.
• How he treats and speaks to his mother, like she’s a second class citizen. She is a bit flighty and can get annoying, but she’s a federal bank auditor for goodness sake, she’s not dumb. His step-father is retired from engineering and farming, he’s no dummy either. And yet he talks down to this mother nearly every conversation or gets mad at her for asking questions. I’ve addressed this since day one, but with no change – it left me thinking it was all part of their single mom-only child dynamic normal relationship, but I’m starting to see that it’s not, he’s just a jerk and she just lets him. He’s also not the kindest to waitstaff, but I always tip well to make up for his asshole side – unless you’re cute, he’ll flirt and call ya darlin’ or sweetheart.
• Asking my opinion or to pick between options and once I make a choice, he would tell me well he already “chose this one because I thought that’s what you’d go with.” My opinion never mattered, I think he just wanted to exert dominance with his decisions.
• If I was talking about a subject, whether I knew it well or just learned about it, he would always have to chime in things he knew about it that made him seem like he knew more or had superior knowledge. I can’t tell you how many times he’s made himself look stupid with spouting just false information or straight up lies to make himself seem smarter, more skilled, and better than everyone else. Just ask him, he’ll tell you.
• Telling me that I was just like my psychotic, pill-popping mother – this was his go-to when we were fighting because he knew it just killed me. I want to be nothing like her, yet he’d remind me that I was doing exactly what she was doing. Now mid-fight, I’ve said some pretty stupid things too, but this was the point I asked if he’d prefer me to just go swallow the bottle of sleeping pills and be done with it because he’s sure trying to drive me there. From here, he made a BIG deal about unloading and putting the .380 away, but not before asking me if I’d like him to leave a single bullet out for me, ya know, to shoot myself with later. Super cool, considering he knows that’s how my brother took his life. Score one for you Dave, you big strong super cool man you.
• Also telling me that I’m a drug addict because I take Adderall. That was legally prescribed to me by my primary care physician. I would take Adderall in the morning to help focus at work and then smoke a few bowls of the Devil’s lettuce before bed to calm me down. In his past, he’s abused the drug by crushing and snorting it to stay awake – he didn’t know he had a problem until friends pointed it out so this is him being friendly saying I have a problem because he doesn’t like me taking it. He doesn’t like my anti-depressants or anti-anxiety meds either because apparently I can get high off of them too *insert eye roll here* Sorry, I didn’t realize he had an MD behind his name. I dumped an entire bottle of Adderall down the drain in front of him. Well, half of the bottle. I split the month’s supply in half – leave half at work where I usually only take it, but have the other half on me just in case it’s needed (and really because if they were to go “missing” because he took them or threw them away, I wouldn’t be entirely screwed). They’re immediate release so it’s not like I’m high as a kite all day, it’s just a little brain juice to help me focus at the task at hand. Man, I wish I was as perfect as he is.
• Everything in it’s place and a place for everything. Anytime I would cook, clean, move things around – he would come right behind me to redo it or tell me I’m doing it wrong. A big point of contention in our relationship towards the end was his inability to see anything good in anything I did around the house, unless it was keeping the house spotless, which less face it… that’s not me. I like my home to be lived in. No, I don’t live in filth, but a little organized chaos is okay too. One of the last big arguments was how he would spend an hour every morning doing the dishes I left in the sink from the night before. I didn’t realize it took an hour to maybe rinse a spoon, plate, or glass. I really didn’t think a *few* things in the sink would be world ending, but that’s just me I guess. Also – being formally diagnosed ADHD, I did my best to try and explain why I did things the way I did and no, it wasn’t intentional. I would pick up an item to throw away or put away and on my way to doing that, I notice something else that’ll just take a quick second to do so I put the first thing down to do the second thing and forget alllll about the first and continue on. I wasn’t trying to use it as an excuse, I just wanted him to understand. I sent dozens of emails about my various mental health issues I’m addressing, only to have each one skimmed, deleted, or ignored entirely. But if he wanted to, he would, right?
• Using my struggles against me, especially my depressive episodes of feeling alone. Since dating him, I’ve had several friends move out of state or just kind of drop off the face of the earth, which happens as people grow and change. He was always critical of my friends (not sure if he liked a single one) and I’m finding out now that he’s the reason many stayed away. This final battle we had this week, he tried to remind me that I have no one. No friends, no family, I’ve alienated them all so good luck finding a place to stay or people to help me move. Guess what, fuck face? People that stayed away because of you were more than happy to help me move the fuck out and get away. They saw what I couldn’t for 8 years.
• Calling me a thief and a liar. Most recent was I apparently stole money from his daughter’s wallet to feed my drug habit because I didn’t have ganja one day, but then had it the next. Yep. I stole from a ten year old, how cool is that? I’m a thief and a liar, but was trusted to be in the house, alone, all weekend long while packing my belongings? Tell me how that makes sense. P.S. Sorry Dave, but I DID steal a box fan, a stud finder, and the pair of speakers from the art room. Figured I’d live up to the reputation you’ve given me and lemme tell ya, they work great! Oh and P.P.S. Your dealer is still my dealer, so let’s stop the drug addict talk, k? Because the pot calling the kettle black ain’t cute. Just like your racist homophobia.
• Using his daughter against me. She’s only 10 and I’ve been in her life since she turned 2 years old. She’s been my buddy and my little weird hippie all of this time. He’s taken to recently telling me that they’ve been having “talks” about me, my attitude, how I’ve changed, and how she’s prepared should I decide to leave them. Right, like it was my decision to begin with. I know this girl, inside and out. She comes to me when she wants to talk about mom or dad, she comes to me when she’s having issues with her sisters because mom and dad are BOTH only children who don’t know what it’s like. She’s called her dad out for his tone, how he words things, and just generally being a grump. But it’s me with the problem. I reminded him that Raelyn will shape her love life based on things she sees at home so remember that when you’re tearing me or her mother down in front of her.
• A big one that just recently came to light was our major, major difference in how we express our beliefs and opinions. With the recent overturning of Roe v Wade, I’ve been so angry. I’ve even told him it’s not regarding him, but the state of affairs in the world. I decided I was going to show my solidarity and purchase a few flags and supplies to hang outside. Big mistake apparently. He was worried it would offend our Christian neighbors – Good, that’s the fucking point! But alas, he didn’t have enough of a spine to let me voice my opinions (unless I let him hang a FJB or LGB flag) so I took it all down. This resulting in a huge fight about how I apparently shove my beliefs and opinions down everyone’s throats and think I’m right all of the time, etc etc. I said I didn’t realizing expressing my beliefs meant I was trying to convert others – I’m sorry our super Christian neighbors, parents of 5 children, are upset by my sign. I’m sorry a neighbor stopped you and asked you to explain it and you couldn’t because you get your politics from SnapChat news and refuse to learn about anything that doesn’t directly affect you. I’m sorry that apparently the phrase “You can’t be a pussy and a pipeliner” doesn’t apply to you because your girlfriend’s “radical” views embarrass you.
• Lastly (far from the last example, but for the sake of this post) – the constant switch between love bombing and devaluing. This entire process has brought out an entirely different and cruel side to him. While he can act despondent and carry on like normal (like taking a camping trip with our mutual friends just 5 days post break up), I look like the mad woman. But he’ll leave sweet notes about things and memories, twenty minutes later via text I’m worthless and did nothing but make his life difficult.
• Oh I lied – this is the last for the sake of this post because it just happened last night as he and his daughter arrived home from their weekend excursions. First was a text asking if I filed his unemployment for him (like an idiot, I agreed to before they left) and then was a text after they actually walked into the house. He was upset that there was so much left behind (5 pieces of larger furniture I couldn’t carry solo) as well as the mess I left. Now I’ll be honest in saying yes, I did leave it a slight mess, but only because the things I removed from MY furniture didn’t have a place to go so they went on a bed, the floor, or the table. He wouldn’t have liked where I moved them in the first place and would end up moving them anyway, so why would I waste the effort? I also left behind remnants of a cardboard Halloween project I had started, as well as old Cinnamon brooms I had hanging, but I also left a note saying I figured they could burn them in a bonfire. All of this AFTER he told me I could take my time, not everything had to be out right away. Why did I believe that for one second?

There is nothing I could have done to that home that would have made him happy. I could have hired someone to come in and clean and he still would have blamed me for it, somehow, someway.

The beauty of knowing all of this information now is that I can look back at our relationship at times where maybe I was sad or thinking I was the problem and realize what the REAL problem was all along. The strong, independent woman attracted him at first, but when I started calling out his problematic behavior, it was then an issue caused by my family and childhood upbringing or lack there of. No where in any of those 8 years did he take responsibility for anything. The closest was in April of this year when we nearly separated then – when he was mid “apology” he said he could work on being more patient and nice to his mom. That was it, nothing else about working on how he speaks to me or anything else I’ve asked for, but I thought maybe it was a start of him growing. Nope. That lasted all of 2 months maybe and even those 2 months were filled with contention, daily.

I’m sure I’ll still have my moments of genuine sadness because for the first few years, it seemed damn close to perfect. I loved him and his daughter in ways I’ve never loved anyone or anything else and knowing that I may not get to be a part of her life anymore crushes me. Right now I don’t want to push being a part of her life because it means I would have to deal with him and I don’t think I’m really ready to do that all sane and rationally just yet, but I’m going to hold out hope that she’ll want to reach out to me herself.

Anyway, that’s this shit-show life in a nutshell or at least what has happened over the last week. No, the separation wasn’t an overnight things, it was years of pent up anger, aggression, and refusal to acknowledge needing help. I sought help in my personal development with seeing a therapist and my own doctor, was prescribed medications to help with mood regularity and my ADHD symptoms that were making work difficult. I became a Reiki Master/Trainer and expanded on my spiritual side. All while he refused to put in the work, like I had asked him to and like he had asked me to. But again, it was my fault he wasn’t in therapy. He agreed to it back in April when we were near the end and I guess it was left to me to schedule it all – I didn’t because I couldn’t afford it at the time. We had depleted my Health Savings Account to pay for diabetic medical supplies for his daughter and my credit card was nearly maxed. Fast forward to this week and because I didn’t sign us up for therapy, it’s my fault and too late now. He also doubts that I even continue to go to therapy so where is alllll my money going? Nunya, Dave. Nunya fucking business.

Here’s to a bigger, better, and brighter future where someone won’t try and dull my light solely for their comfort.