Yesterday Was Heavy, Put it Down,

Hello. 

It's been 10 months and 22 days since I gathered up the strength to leave you for the very last time. In the last 10 months, you have sent me 66 emails, called me hundreds of times from random numbers, left items on my porch, sent me hurtful text messages, and found any way to reach out to tell me that you are suffering because I left you. You wanted me to know that you have fallen into the darkness and can not get up because I left you. You wanted me to know that you were suicidal because I left you. You wanted me to know that you felt utterly alone, because I left you. I'm not even sure you listened to me to hear exactly WHY I left you. 

Its been 10 months and 22 days, and I never got the opportunity to tell you tell you what I felt for the TWO YEARS we were together, and so I do believe it's my turn.

I watched you fall apart. I was there from the moment you broke the very first time, until the very end. I wish I could say all I did was watch, from a distance, but instead I dove headfirst into your pool of darkness and swam with every ounce of life I had in me to try and save you. You didn't see that because you were too busy making waves and getting upset at me for not being able to swim in them. 

I met a mild mannered young man, in the process of a gender transition, but who had not yet started the hormonal transition process. You were kind and funny, and charming. I have always been the type to push people towards their goals, and perhaps that was where I failed. I helped you set up the appointment to get started on testosterone, and as you grew into the man you wanted to see in the mirror, your anger grew with you. I began walking on eggshells to avoid upsetting you, and God forbid there be a change in my work schedule, because you did NOT handle change well at ALL. 

Fighting with you was never productive. You were never actually interested in solving the disagreement, you were only ever interested in being upset at me for having a different viewpoint, and rather than trying to understand mine to at least understand me a little better, you proceeded to drown me with your words until I had nothing left but the ability to sit there silently, and then you would escalate. You slammed doors, screamed, threw things, sometimes AT me, slammed your head into walls and kicked doors, put holes in the walls, and destroyed items that were sentimental to me as a way to "show me how I made you feel." I'm here to tell you that you are responsible for the way you feel, and that you do not, as a grown adult, have the right to project or blame your unhappiness on me. I will not accept that responsibility any longer. 

it's been 10 months and 22 days and you still show up in my dreams as they shift into nightmares. I cant explain why the dream always turns so dark as soon as I see your face. You showed up in an attic space in one of my dreams, and shortly thereafter, everything started to fall dark and I woke up in a cold sweat, and couldn't fall back asleep. The damage you did is inside of me and its taking me 10 months and 22 days to realize the extent of what you did to me. 

You've sent me 66 long, drawn out emails. They always say something sad because you know that I am highly empathetic and you have always used that against me. You tell me that you hate me, that you wished you'd never loved me, you wish you had never met me, that you hope I see you one day at your best and that you get the chance to walk by me and not even stop. You follow those emails with another, saying that you are sorry for what you said when you were drunk, and that you are so alone and that you have no one anymore. The problem is, I have blocked you on every form of communication and you still find another way to reach out. You've even created a new email address, and shown up at my old address to drop off a box of all of the old cards and letters I had given you from when we were together. It's just not enough for you for some reason, it's like you thrive on hurting me. 

You were always threatened by anyone who was close to me, even though you wouldn't dare admit that. You would say awful thing about my best friend, to drive a wedge between us, and then you would say awful things about the company I worked for until you had talked me into quitting. You liked to say that you were only supporting me, and not controlling me, but you never liked it when I was away, even if it was at work to pay the bills that you were not helping me with. I was working 40-60 hour weeks WITH my kids at work with me so that you could sit at home and cry about needing a mental health day for the 11th time in one week while I drained the life out of myself to pay the bills and still come home to the toxic energy you were serving me on a silver platter. 

It's been 10 months and 22 days, and while I do recognize how abusive this relationship was for me, and still continues to be after the fact, I also recognize that I loved you truly, and deeply which was the very core of the reason that I allowed you to deplete me of everything that made me happy, as I tried to save you. It turns out you never wanted to be saved, you just didn't want to go down alone on a sinking ship that you wrecked yourself. 

Now, don't get me wrong, I am NOT in any way bashing mental health issues. I walked through FIRE to help you when you needed to rest... But no one ever stops to see what mental health issues can do to the other person. The person being projected upon. The person who is always in the line of fire. I hope you get the help you need, and I do hope that you reach your best. I hope that one day you might read this and for the first time, see just the smallest glimpse of what this was like on the other end. it's been 10 months, and 22 days, and I'm here to tell you I'm unsubscribing to any further abuse. 

"Yesterday was heavy, put it down."

Tell Them I was the Warmest Place You knew, and That You Turned me Cold.

Here goes.

I've laid awake in the depths of my thoughts, for countless sleepless nights, about what I needed to say in regards to my last relationship. I say "needed" because I believe that our experiences are meant to shape us, but also because I understand the value of the lessons we, and others, learn from our stories. I've pondered what happened, what I've learned, and how it affected me in ways I didn't even realized until after the dust had settled. Oh what a plot twist he was...

You saw the photos on social media... We were so in love. You saw the "happiness." He posted a romance novel about me on Facebook and Instagram every time he posted a photo of me. 200 likes and countless comments told us how perfect we were together. You saw him sing to me in videos, adventure with me, and even propose to me. You saw what you were supposed to see, because in reality, there were so many things you didn't see. That photo of me with the romance novel about me being the light of his life, followed a gut-wrenching fight where he stood in front of the bedroom door to keep me from leaving, because he had told me I was a piece of shit, no better than his ex. I had packed his things, and as I picked up each box to carry them downstairs, he violently punched each box out of my hands destroying the boxes and slinging his things all over the floor. "You think I'm such a FUCKING MONSTER!! You never take accountability for the things YOU do wrong!" He would yell. His happiness or unhappiness was always my responsibility.

I want to make something very clear; I loved him unmeasurably. The passionate love you saw on my end was genuine, and perhaps that's why I stayed for 2 years despite having started to question whether this behavior was a problem before we had even spent a year together. Unfortunately, it's not enough to just KNOW something is wrong when you love the person. He would threaten suicide, cry, breakdown and apologize and I would feel obligated to pick him back up again. I knew in my heart if I asked him to leave, he would cause a scene and I was not prepared to handle that. I did not want to be the reason he ended his life, and I didn't want to even risk finding out if he was bluffing or not. A life is a life, and I cant gamble with that, even when it costs me my peace. Perhaps that is where I went wrong.

Let's start from the beginning. I met "H" in 2018, shortly after moving to Virginia. We matched on Tinder and met in person, and clicked right away. We started officially dating about a month later and he immediately moved in with me. It was good for several months... H was my best friend, and we spent all of our time together. He started to have a heavy opinion on things about 3 months in - things like my job, my parenting, and his opinion found a way to change mine somehow. He would tell me that my job was taking advantage of me, and he fed me these opinions until one day I quit that job, which he also suggested. I didn't realize then, and maybe he didn't either, but this was a control behavior that is often used to sever the things that make a person independent, so that they will "need" their partner more (whether that is financially or emotionally etc.) He began altering the way I parented my kids, becoming more militant and strict, and just seeming overall more unhappy with anything we did. We started to walk on eggshells to keep him happy.

His moods were so quick to change. One small trigger (like my work asking me to stay an hour later to help) would send him spiraling downward into a rant about how I don't take his feelings into consideration, and how my communication skills were terrible. He would jump off of the deep end over such minor things, that I started to find peace in being away from home. I started to realize that this was something mental health related and began to do research, hoping to help guide him in a direction that would end in him seeking help from a therapist who could give him solutions to tone down these behaviors. My research all pointed to Borderline Personality Disorder, and this was later confirmed.

I am learning now, how many times I was manipulated into staying stuck in that situation. It is unnerving to see clearly how many occasions which I felt like I was trapped. "What if he burns my house down? What if he takes my kids? What if he kills himself in my house for my kids to find?" These thoughts seem extreme, but when you've watched a grown man get on the floor and slam his head into the floor over and over until he gave himself a concussion while screaming uncontrollably, its a reasonable fear. I just wanted to get out without the blow up, and I didn't know how. Often times in the heat of his blow ups, I would muster up the strength to demand him to leave, but he would up the ante and hurt himself until I backed down. I became depressed, I started gaining weight, and my anxiety was worse than ever.

It didn't get better even after I finally left, as I struggled to stay strong and push away someone I loved, who was trapped inside of someone I was afraid of. I would see glimpses of the man I loved, and wonder if there was a chance he would "get better." It's so hard to rationalize this with yourself while you are dealing with a broken heart and being manipulated at the same time. There are just too many moving parts and ultimately I am human. I went back to him so many times when I felt small and responsible for his unhappiness. I know how much that didn't help, but again, I loved him and naturally I missed him... The "him" that was trapped inside, under the rage and the borderline personality disorder. He was institutionalized multiple times, medicated, court ordered to stay away from me, and even put in jail for violating that order, and I still felt responsible for whether or not he would stand on his own two feet. It's so hard to just stand back and watch someone drown themselves in 3 feet of water, and to know that all they have to do to save themselves is to stand up - that's why I saved him, over and over again.

Even as I type this, I wonder what sort of consequence might arise if he reads it, but I need this closure. I will never claim to understand what it feels like to be him and have your mind work against you so often, nor do I want to lessen the magnitude of how mental illness can impact a persons actions as they suffer through it. I did see the pain BPD caused him, and often I was the only stability he had. If you have ever walked in these shoes, you understand. I won't go into detail about how bad it got, or how my kids were impacted. We all watched someone we loved transform into someone we didn't know, and we all have to heal from that battlefield. They say you come back from war either wounded or wiser - but I believe it's both.

The price of anything, is the amount of life you exchange for it, and while I firmly believe that I overpaid, I gained a lot of perspective from this. Someone I loved, once gave me a box full of darkness. It took 2 years to understand that this, too, was a gift.