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.
