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I’ve made a mistake.

I held on, took a leap of faith, and now I’m in a mess that I don’t know how to get out of. I want to go home.

The day before I went and picked up my children, I even cried to my mom. I didn’t let her know what was going on but I said that I was scared to get the kids because that would make this move more permanent (because then they would start school). I told her my reasons were because I missed being near family. Well, I sucked up my tears and went and picked up my children. They started school on Wednesday. They love their schools. My youngest, mostly because it is finally kindergarten. My oldest, that school is actually really amazing. And now, all I can think about it ripping them out of those schools and taking them back “home”. Home meaning with family because we won’t have an actually home any more. The home I had lived in will be lost soon in bankruptcy. I do not have a job to go back to. My mom lives a “tiny” lifestyle. I don’t know where I would go.

My mom is coming today as a surprise for the kids. She’s not allowed here at the house, I think I covered that in my last entry. When my boyfriend found out she was coming, he threatened again to install cameras in the house to ensure she didn’t come here. I actually think that is why we are fighting. I never bucked him but I think her coming here put him in a bad mood. I didn’t fight back, as I never do with him, I just threatened to leave. I even threatened to go have a drink (dumb move, I know). I tried to apologize this morning and threw in there that we were both being jerks and I was sorry. He said he wasn’t.

He drove up and didn’t even see me. Walked right past me. I had been standing in the driveway watching the bats and a storm in the distance for about 10 minutes, waiting for him as I always do. I didn’t expect anything but a slight hug and kiss but he just walked right in the house. When I tried to talk to him, I had to wait for him to watch a 6 minute video on facebook. He actually told me to wait. I had waited all day for him, what was so important about a viral video of some random person getting arrested? I got fussed at for multiple things. I asked for my headphones because I had decided at that point to disengage, finish watching my movie on my phone. That made him really angry. I was using my charger to charge my phone, which he needed, and wanting my headphones, which he wanted for today.

And just now, as I sit and type this… He’s on his way to work and has just texted me he wants to be alone and isn’t happy. I told him I’d make arrangements today and he said ok. I’m heartbroken. Is it really over? As many times as we’ve threatened to leave each other did we really just break up? Did a year and half of struggle just amount to nothing? Did he really just give up on me?

Or was the right decision just made for me?


The harder I fail….

I decided to make the drive to bring a different lunch. There was no fork, no napkins, and it tasted “horrible” so that got thrown away too. I think I ended up making it worse than it already was.

I have accused some of these mood swings on steroids multiple times. When he is in a good mood, he will admit that some of his “raging” is because of them but its never towards me. Its always when he gets mad at someone else. On the outside, its hard for me to not show how ridiculous this sounds. Throwing a pizza at the the glass door of a restaurant doesn’t sound any different that a TV ending up in the pond. If one can be recognized as “roid rage”, why can’t the other? And oh how I wish all of this was because of some sort of substance. I wish I knew that if you took steroids out of the picture it would all become normal.

The one and only reason I don’t lose my crap about the steroids is because that was one of the only reasons we were able to have sex. And now that’s not even happening. I don’t even know if we have had actual sex in two months. Maybe I’m confused on how things work but even if we can’t have actual sex, couldn’t we at least be some what intimate?

If I could have the perfect night, I would meet him outside as I always do. He’d kiss me like he always does except this time, he’d actually stop for a second and see me. It wouldn’t be some quick peck. I mean, I probably checked the door 5 times thinking I heard him pull up. I probably looked down the street twice to see if I saw his head lights. I spent all day for this moment.

That is my life every evening except he never does see me. It couldn’t possibly hurt any more than this. To hear how I don’t love him. To hear how I overlook him, how I don’t care about him or don’t think of him.

I’ve never been graceful. I fall a lot. My arms and legs stay bruised because I always misjudge door frames and corners. If I get too excited, I scramble and forget important things. I write everything down in a notebook because I am honest with myself about my flaws. I forget napkins. I sometimes leave the cabinet doors open. I stutter if I’m under too much pressure and I cry easily. But I love hard. And sometimes, because of how I am, the harder I try, the harder I fail.

Walking on Egg Shells

Amazon Prime is one of my lucky pleasures I have. For some reason, though my credit card was null and void, my subscription came through for the year. I’m able to watch movies and download tons of free books that *almost* make me feel like I used to.

I think it was fate that it just so happened “Stop Walking on Eggshells” was featured as a free prime book. The name caught my eye immediately because… that’s my life. I’m half way in and boy, is it REALLY my life.

The book is about BPD (borderline personality disorder). I’m no psychiatrist. I like to think of myself slightly better than your average Joe when it comes to psychiatry, as it was my minor in college. It was accidental as I ended up taking many psych classes to raise my GPA. It came easy for me. I should have taken that as a sign and went with it. Maybe I would have graduated. Easy roads are never my choice. I’ll have to dream of what could have been another day…. Obviously, I get distracted easily. Where was I? I’m pretty sure my boyfriend has BPD.

BPD. Apparently, BPD can be cured. Unlike Narcissism (which unfortunately, a nice percentage of BPD sufferers DO have), people can be aware of this disorder and seek treatment. Of course, that means at some point they have to accept there is something wrong with them. You can love someone with BPD and actually live with them WITHOUT walking on eggshells. I’m only half way through the book so I haven’t figured that part out yet.

As an update, I moved. I moved to the location of my dreams. Its fun going grocery shopping and seeing all the tourists and knowing that I am not here for just a week. I’m happy that I have a home I can be proud of again. The kids start school next week which will make my move more official. Once school starts, I can’t just pack up and leave at the drop of a dime. It scares the crap out of me. Part of me says that if this doesn’t work, this relationship, I could at least put some time in, get a job, get established so I can stay here on my own. Most of me wants this relationship to work, which is why I am still so hopeful. And then mornings like this morning make me want to just run.

I’m not sure where this morning started bad. One minute, I’m begging him to stay in bed and cuddle for just a little bit longer. Insert coffee, sandwich making and BAM! I’m crying with my head in my hands. I was given $20. I won’t be able to go pick up my children with that. I can’t buy the things he knew I needed with that. It was a tease. It was a control game. All because I made sandwiches for his lunch instead of cooking him something. These sandwiches were made with the same meat he personally picked out for sandwiches two weeks ago. I try to mix it up so he wont get tired of anything. Sometimes, making two “dinners” so he won’t even be stuck with left overs. Well, sometimes, life gives you a chicken sandwich. Most people would say “Thank you. I appreciate you making me a sandwich.” Or even “Thank you for my sandwich but I’m not in the mood for sandwiches this week. Can you bring me something around lunch instead?” Not in my house. I got called a bitch. Then a lazy bitch. Then I got texted how much I am a lazy bitch because without him, I wouldn’t have a roof over my head etc. I could have packed something better than 4 pieces of bread. It wasn’t just 4 pieces of bread. I made sure I packed enough water, a soda, a snack, half of a melon…

This all started a huge conversation, of course. My needs are not being met (thank you book). Emotionally, I’m abandoned. Physically, should I even go there right now? I don’t know ANYONE here. I’m isolated. I walk around and look for smudges to scrub because I have nothing to do but clean all day. My children aren’t here because they are spending time with family (though I was supposed to go pick up my daughter today, my son wanted to stay extra days because he’s spending time with friends and family). I literally have nothing to do. I’m scared of going to the beach or the pool. That would mean me having fun while being a lazy bitch and that might have consequences. I will probably sit here the rest of the day and watch Grey’s. Which, I later go and clear my watch activity and then I have to clear my activity on my phone so it doesn’t show that I cleared anything on Netflix… I’m still unsure if I’m allowed to watch Grey’s or not. Ugh.

My mom is losing her house. The one I was staying in. I don’t really have a place to go if I decided to go back. I could take this opportunity and suck it up. Establish myself here and if it never gets any better, I can then get out.

I’m not by any means using him. I WANT this to get better. We had found a rhythm of normalcy for a moment there. This was before the order of steroids got here. Before the transfer of a new job meant late nights and late nights meant alcohol to wind down. In the time we have been together, alcohol has never really been a source of fights, at least not until recently. He even admitted last week that he is experiencing blackouts. Here’s how it happens: Things are great. We are laughing. Maybe listening to music. Then he goes to the bathroom and comes back. You can tell something is off. Then he starts picking. You cheated on your husband. You talked to your husband behind my back. You did such and such when you were 2 years old (ok, slight exaggeration but come on!) Another common one is have I seen any attractive men since I moved here. (SCREECH! Quick story here. I admitted that a bartender was cute and we ran into him one night at another place. He picked a fight with him and we ended up getting banned from that place. The last time I said a movie star was attractive, I was banned from watching my favorite show.) I either try to calm him down, go with it, or there was that one time when I stood up for myself… Then he lays on the couch and goes to sleep. He’ll grab me in the middle of the night and cling to me. The next morning, he remembers we argued but what about? We did that 3 nights in a row and the third night, when I had enough, it ended up with the cops here and a TV in the pond.

Truth is, I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. I don’t know what to do but I have to decide ASAP. If I want to give this a chance, I have to figure this out today. If not, I need to go back to where I’m from tomorrow. I somehow have to call my mom and tell her that I’m not picking up my daughter as planned today. I’ve thought about telling her I’m having doubts because I’m homesick and I just need one more day to decide. But I don’t want her to think things are off in the relationship (that’s something us non BP do.. we hide our significant other’s behavior). I thought about telling her my car battery is dead. I just got new tires so I can’t have a flat. I don’t like lying, especially to my mother. But I really need one more day. Because once I drive this car out of this driveway and head north, its a permanent decision either way. We are discussing our relationship tonight… And I have to wait this one more day.

The truth

Ive been dumped so many times in the last week, there were times I couldn’t remember if we were together or not.

My deepest insecurities that I trusted with the man I love have been thrown in my face more times that I care to remember.

Ive been blocked in every way possible over and over.

When I told the truth, I was accused of lying… so I lied and got in trouble for things I didn’t do.

I cursed out a friend and blocked them on Facebook because I liked their post and he didn’t like what she said.

I have been black mailed, the threat being he would assist and say whatever needed to be said for me to lose in my custody battle.

I have been threatened that he would send naked pictures of me to family. He did send some to my ex husband.

Think of a name. Ive been called it.

My arms have bruises on them but none compare to emotional trauma. 

Ive begun to realize the amount of damage thats been done. It’s not just this but from my marriage. My marriage was so horrible but everything else in my life was on track. I had something to lean on. This time, I have nothing. I feel worthless. I’ve lost hope, I do not have dreams or goals. I hate who I see in the mirror. I do not recognize her anymore. The only time I think Im happy is when he is pleased with me. My world crashes when he isn’t. I think my world stands still more than it moves. 

Every night I wonder if this is it. If this is the final goodbye. Sometimes, I wake up in the morning to a new day… But mostly it’s not. Mostly, I find a new set of rules that I broke. Rules. What kid doesn’t dream of being an adult where you don’t have any rules? 

I had more freedom as a child than I do as an adult. 
Im not allowed to watch certain shows or movies.

Im not allowed to listen to any band that I saw in concert. I used to go to a lot of concerts. Ive seen all my favorite bands. 

Im not allowed to have male friends on social media unless I’m friends with their wives. If they aren’t married, I can’t be their friend.

I’m not allowed to go to restaurants that have bars in them. 

Im not allowed to wear heels when Im not with him. Or dresses. Or short shorts. If he is not here, I have to prove I have underwear on by video chat.

Im not supposed to flat iron my hair if he’s not here.

Im not able to paint my toenails certain colors. Im also not allowed to change it if he’s not around.

I have to make sure I don’t wear makeup too often if hes not here.

Im not allowed to listen to music loudly in my car. It draws attention.

If I accidentally look at a man, there are consequences. 

If a man opens a door for me, I can not say thank you. Any compliments are to be completely ignored. 

Im not allowed to masturbate.

I am supposed to report any physical contact with any person… even a hug from a same sex friend. 

Im not allowed at certain gas stations.

Im not allowed to work at certain places, if there is contact with men.

Im not allowed to sell things to men, such as things Ive posted online. If it is something “manly”, Im not allowed to post it. He has to.
I don’t know how this happens. I don’t know how a person, well aware of how crazy everything sounds, can be begging a person like that to stay.  It’s almost unbelievable. I don’t know how someone can get out of one abusive relationship and hop right in bed with another, like it was her favorite blanket. But, it happens. It’s happening and I don’t know how to stop. 

6 a.m.

6 a.m. is my favorite.

I set my alarm just a little earlier than necessary. I run out of bed to grab my phone as I hear sleepy mumbling Where are you going? Come back. I dart back in bed and nestle my chin in my favorite spot in the world, the crevice between his two shoulder blades. I slip my arm under his, putting my hand on his chest above his heart. My world is beating underneath my palm. I breathe in his scent and let his short hair tickle my nose, which always makes me smile. I love you, I whisper. He loves me too, at 6 a.m.

This man. This brilliant, beautiful, strong, courageous man that I am madly in love with is all mine, at 6 a.m.

Before I have to share him with the rest of the world, before the weight rests on our shoulders, even before the sun is up… at 6 a.m.

This is how almost every day starts for me. It covers me like a shield though the second I leave his presence, it slowly melts away, after 6 a.m.

I’m not really okay. My life has been drastically changed in the past year. A lot of good changes, excellent in fact, but change none the less. Processes that it took to get me here. My career loss being such a blow that it is taking everything in me to hold my broken pieces together.

See, he is my glue. The very gravity that holds me on this planet. Without him, I’d float off in to darkness. I’ve managed to find happiness, within myself, somehow always. I didn’t need anyone emotionally. I was only half of a person and somehow, finding my other half has made me feel desperately incomplete when I’m not with him, whether it be physically or mentally.

Sometimes, I falter. I’m not perfect. I’m undeserving. I sometimes think I have some sort of dyslexia, a miscommunication from my heart to actions towards him. A voice inside me always screaming as I clumsily stumble through, making mistake after mistake.

I only hope that he sees. Words mean nothing, he says. My actions could never be big enough to show what he would see if only he could see my heart. Maybe one day, at 6 a.m., he’ll see.