… I never really understood the saying ‘Love is blind’ on this level before.

Then again, I was never in a relationship with an addict before.

The past week i’ve wanted to get into a time machine and go back in time and never meet him, but now i’ve stopped crying and am thinking a little more clearly, I understand it’s just another of those incredibly painful lessons. I always find it unnerving when someone can see a person uncontrollably crying and not feel anything. That’s when I knew for sure that he never loved me. He’s never going to feel the need to apologise for the pain he’s caused me. He doesn’t care. He’s broken my heart, when I told him early on I couldn’t take any more pain in this life, especially right now. I know more pain is inevitable. That’s life. But how can someone be so callous and know someone has been through so much and not feel any remorse for causing them more? How can someone be that selfish? What has he ever done for me? I’ve been there for him through so much. I wish I never met him. This is a dude I thought I wanted to start a family with. Exchange vows. He once told me ‘I love you, but when we have kids i’ll love them more’. That should have been a red flag. It was weird. My 3 closest friends all said it was weird. I didn’t need validation but maybe I was being overly sensitive. Nah. That’s a weird thing to say. I was upset and let him know. He said ‘well it’s the truth, my sister in law says it to my brother’.  First of all he doesn’t speak highly of his sister in law, he calls her a b*tch, second of all it goes without saying you save your children first from a burning house. It’s an unspoken mutually accepted thing. Why feel the need to state the obvious? He always did that. Always such an obnoxious cruel person. I won’t repeat some of the things he said, but gross. Utterly gross. I always thought it was a different kind of love, but not unequal necessarily. To say that to me, someone he knows who has been hurt by ‘family’ and cut ties and by choice became estrange from most of my relatives, I just can’t comprehend how he could be so unkind. So insensitive. So harsh.  It was so random as well. I honestly think he got a kick out of hurting my feelings. ‘British girls have big front teeth’, knowing i’m self conscious about my teeth. Things like that. But as usual, I got past it. I have myself to blame for most of this upon reflection. Maybe I broke my own heart by ignoring so many red flags. I don’t even remember the guy I fell in love with. I don’t think he exists in reality.

I’m not the kind of person who tolerates a guy shouting and screaming at me. But recently I became that person. I made excuses. His battle, I needed to be understanding. I tolerated the most unkind words and cruel statements, but I cried it out and accepted it wasn’t ‘him’ talking and that when he was sober he’d never be so harsh.

I was wrong.

Here’s the thing. Going into any relationship I come with a disclaimer. I lay all my shit bare up front and basically say ‘i’m a nightmare, you probably shouldn’t date me’. Some have said that it’s playing hard to get. They’ve been very wrong. Some have said ‘holy shit, your defence mechanisms are incredible’.. I mean, I guess they are, but for good reason. My exes have all had to be really persistent. Even if I really like someone, I’m not quick to say yes to a date.

But, as awkward as it is, I lace it with humour, because that’s me, but I get the point across that i’m a bit damaged and not really girlfriend material (yet, i hope to be).

I can’t go into much yet because I refuse to start crying again.

But I waited for him to go through detox, go rehab, a week in a hospital following an OD that i’m pretty sure i’m being blamed for. Unreal, as I was the same way that night but I left notes because I didn’t want anyone, including him, to carry the weight of that. His last words to me would have been beyond harsh. No matter the amount of pain i’ve been in i’ve always considered others. Even in those terrifying moments.

I found out he’d OD’d via a text from his parent ended with ‘night night’. Not a phone call. I had so many questions. Did he have to have his stomach pumped? Is there a risk of brain damage? like… Should I get on a plane right now?  No. Fortunately his body rejected it and he vomited before the ambulance got there. Thank God. I’m surprised they didn’t stay on the phone with his mother until they arrived. When my cousin was unconscious the emergency call responder didn’t hang up.

I could tell I was being blamed between the words.  Because after he had been awful to me, screaming and saying unforgivable things, I hung up on him. But I continued to message him because I’m always one to seek a resolution and find some peace. Some common ground. I was angry but still hoped he’d apologise even if I had to push for an apology. When I think clearly I know an apology you need to ask for, isn’t an apology worth having.  It would have been insincere. It was exhausting pleading with him. Trying to see more than the shell of a selfish person. To find the heart I thought was there.

I still don’t understand how he could do that and have his last words be so cruel. I’m not making it about me. I mean, his words to anyone. I doubt I’m the only person he owes an apology to.  I know people act differently in times of distress, but I learnt i’m the kind of person who thinks of others before myself. To limit the amount of pain i’d cause others. I went as far as to worry about devaluing my housemate’s house if I passed away here.  I wasn’t in the right mind to do what I always planned to do, the least selfish way I’ve thought about and considered many times (too many) in my life.  Away from the house. Where no-one would find me other than authorities I’d have a note with directions to my whereabouts. Selfish that the people who’d have to find me are human too, but I figure they’re better equipped than any individual unexpectedly coming across that.  But I still thought about the aftermath and tried to be as selfless as possible. Just to be clear, I do not believe that to be a selfish act and i’m disgusted by people who speak so harshly of people after they’ve gone. Let people rest in peace you despicable c*nts. How are people so heartless? Ignorant? Gross.

But hey, he didn’t care about the damage he’d leave behind, but who am I to judge? We all handle distress differently.  After a week of mandatory therapy in a hospital stay (not sure if it was 5150, i’m not sure of a lot, I don’t matter enough to be informed. I never did) he didn’t want to talk to me. So an apology was far from his list. How crushed I was doesn’t matter. The fact I’d been the same way that night didn’t matter. He was the only one suffering. How dare I even be upset he only cares about himself? I could literally have been on my deathbed asking if he’s ok. He doesn’t care about me at all. If he read this i’m quite certain all he’d feel is anger. Not remorse. Concern. Sadness for the pain i’m feeling. Just pure anger, denial and like a victim in all of this.

I went through the same that night. It’s too painful to share and pretty dark, but it’s not the first time my best friend has saved my life. Not the first time my best friend took the following day off work and slept at the end of my bed. I finally slept around 5am, and I woke to that news via text. I cared that he was ok. I assumed he must be ok because  it as a text and ended in ‘night night’. I hoped he was ok. I wasn’t in a good frame of mind, so I didn’t reply until hours later. But as hurt as I was by him, I made sure I asked how he was. He was well enough to want his phone taken to him.

I think back to when I first found out he was an alcoholic. Many months into this thing. How I was worried about him and reached out to his ‘best friend’. His best friend asked if he could call me. I was a bit nervous if i’m honest, but I pushed that aside because I cared about the guy I had fallen in love with. So the guy calls me. Initially i’m grateful that he took the time to call me and speak for over an hour (if I recall correctly, maybe more maybe less).  During the phone call I was becoming mildly irritated because it didn’t sound like a best friend. Someone who loves the same guy I do. I thanked him for his time, but was left feeling uncomfortable and sad. I spoke to my housemates about the conversation and they too felt sorry for my ‘boyfriend’.

Now with hindsight, I was wondering if the guy warned me for a reason. Maybe he’d seen my boyfriend be cruel, destructive, selfish and experienced the temper. Then again, I don’t think much of the dude I spoke to on the phone because his fiancé told me he’d told her he’s never spoken to me before. (wait, what?!) Yes. She said ‘he told me he’s never spoken to you?!” That I must have him confused for the drummer in my (now) ex boyfriend’s band. Unreal.

I was mature and didn’t want to rock the boat for whatever BS this guy puts on his fiancé (a chick who followed me on instagram), so I didn’t prove that ‘yes, it was in fact your fiancé! I congratulated him on your engagement when I first answered his call! He spoke about your kids.’  Whatever this guy’s reasons for lying, I do not know. I was told by my boyfriend that he’s a serial cheater, but why lie about a totally innocent phone conversation between two adults about a mutual person they care about being unwell?  Utterly bizarre. It’s so weird to me.

Messy.

My (now) ex and I were so incompatible. We think so differently. Looking back I see so many red flags. When he said an unkind thing about a woman eating a pizza to herself and I had to point out that was an asshole thing to say.  But he cried and (for once) apologised for something. Another time he opened one of the parcels I sent him. This one for his birthday. My ex before him had finally warmed to the new guy in my life, and welcomed him as a friend. He saw a cool retro Nintendo watch that wasn’t exactly cheap. He showed it to me, I said I can’t afford that right now. So he insisted on buying it for my boyfriend. Because this ex is a really caring, considerate, selfless person.  When my boyfriend insisted on opening his parcel on FaceTime (something I made clear I was very uncomfortable with as I hate seeing people open gifts, but as usual he got moody so I gave in).. He opened the watch and the first thing he said ‘Do I have to wear this!?’.

Fuck me that hurt my heart. I thought of my friend who bought it for him. What an ungrateful prick. What a selfish unkind thing to say. Why did I let so many things slide. When he visited my other housemate slept around my parents one night to allow my boyfriend to have his bedroom. How did he repay him?  Make digs behind his back about him being unable to hold a hammer. Constant digs. Whether it’s saying that my other ex has ‘bad form’ when watching his work out videos on instagram. Sorry, I forgot you’re an expert on fitness.  Fuck you, at least he’s going to the gym and working his ass off and not making excuses. He has the discipline to try.  I sympathise that you felt the need to down bottles of vodka after your workouts, but don’t talk shit about somebody else trying their hardest. So many unsolicited opinions. It was constant.  I now wonder if the tears at the airport were even sincere. Mine were, but I have a feeling that nothing was ever sincere regarding us. It couldn’t have been because you don’t mistreat anyone, let alone the people you love.

He said something unforgivable to me about my mother, but he was drunk. Yet when sober he didn’t apologise. He just tried to change the angle of initial statement. Beyond fucked up. When I finally told my parents my stepdad was understanding and said to my mum (who cried) that ‘it’s just the drink talking’. How fucking dare he be such an asshole about my mother who he hadn’t yet met at the time.  I myself have said ridiculous things when drunk. Unkind things. Untrue things. I don’t drink anymore because of this. I know I don’t have a disease that makes me dependent on alcohol, but I did go through stages of drinking too much and I did cause other’s pain. I carry that with me, even now.  Sure, the people were not kind to me, but they didn’t deserve my drunken ass being a tool repeating shitty things I’d heard people say about them.

The thing is with my boyfriend is, he never takes accountability. I told him she should take accountability and he told me at rehab he ‘learnt the exact opposite’.  Wow. Now i’m understanding why allegedly 7 out of 10 people relapse. I thought one of the steps was to apologise to those you have wronged. I guess not.

He literally told me he shouldn’t have to apologise to anyone because he has a disease.

Fuck that mentality. What a shitty way to think. Sure, be kind to yourself, forgive yourself, have compassion for yourself… but since when does that negate the fact you should own your shit and apologise to those you have hurt so deeply and consistently?

I look at the people he surrounded himself with. One girl, a friend of is, is the type of human that took a photograph of a dead baby in a biohazard bag because it was ‘fucked up’ and apparently ‘funny’.  Personally I don’t think people like that should work in hospitals and it’s made my anxiety about hospitals even worse. Where’s the sensitivity? The human decency? That’s who you choose to associate with? Good luck with that.

He basically told me he was in love with another woman when he was with his ex. They were young so I ignored that red flag. They stayed together for 5 years. But who stays with somebody and wishes they were with someone else? I’d be devastated if I discovered my boyfriend felt that way.  Yet I was really upset for what he’d been through and how she treated him. I thought this girl was an asshole. I mean, she more than likely is, but maybe she endured some BS too?

I gave so much for this relationship. A year ago I was getting healthier. I was on the road to getting well, and everyone around me who loves me saw me going downhill. There were times I actually had to say ‘there’s a 5 hour time difference. You really don’t care if I sleep do you?’ when he’d not let me get off the phone. I was always there for him to my own detriment. He’d go MIA for days and I finally found out he was an alcoholic and drank himself until he passed out. Then would spend days in withdrawal.

Now I realise maybe he wasn’t sober half the time we spoke. Although I learnt to tell when he’d been drinking vodka. Huge bottles. I don’t know how he survived this long.

I stood by him. I stayed on FaceTime whilst he projectile vomited. I was in constant contact with his family member to check because I was so worried about seizures and other side effects of withdrawal. She too was worried about him, and stayed awake watching him to make sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit. I constantly tried to get him to see how blessed he is to have family that care. To get him to practice gratitude. It makes me sad to realise just how ungrateful of a person he is.

It was a volatile relationship. I was far from perfect. But fuck me was it one sided.

I once asked him to tell me one thing he’d done for me that was selfless. He couldn’t. So he resorted to yelling, telling me that I ‘keep score’. I don’t keep score, but I can remember the many times I pushed my feelings (and health) aside to focus on him. I don’t need to have a photographic memory to recall those things.

He’s never once been there for me. Most of the time he was drunk. But he was poorly and needed help so I got past that.

But I know him sober now. His lack of apologies. His disregard for my feelings. He’s so unbelievably wrapped up in himself. He knows about my health issues and didn’t even ask how my doctors/hospital appointments went.

I have a really tough year ahead this year and quite honestly i’m terrified but thank God I found all this out now. Thank the Lord that I didn’t think I could rely on him for emotional support. Or anything. As painful as the clarity is, it’s clarity all the same.

He was rude to my parents when he met them. I let it slide. He was withdrawing. Although I strongly felt he wasn’t well enough to visit. I pushed my concerns to the side because he insisted. His loved ones insisted that we didn’t cancel his trip. I wanted him to cancel so bad but I knew he’d paid for the flights and they were non refundable.  My loved ones were worried about me, and the prospect of him drinking when he was here. The responsibility put on me to look after him. They knew I wasn’t well enough to deal with that. But it was always about him. He always came first.

I went through some stuff when he was in rehab but I made sure I was available to take his FaceTime call every Sunday. He never seemed happy to speak to me. There was always an excuse. A headache, a bad day.  I smiled through my bad days because I prioritised him. I wrote him a letter for every day he was away, but didn’t send them because I didn’t want to bring him down with the stuff going on in my life and they weren’t all sunshine and rainbows. I’m yet to shred and recycle them. I will though.

I said to his family member that I felt I should wait a while before talking to him when he got home after a month in rehab because I didn’t think it would be good if we speak right away. I was told ‘but he will want to speak to you right away, he will be upset’.

So what did I do, pushed my wellbeing aside. Standard.

We argued. I was a villain because I tried to push him too soon after getting home. But I saw his room an absolute state and I knew that was a sign of spiralling. I stayed up one night on FaceTime encouraging him to hang some clothes. The next day I tried to get him to stay positive and focused and he screamed at me. Apparently he does that to a lot of people. I stayed with a guy who had 12 dirty glasses on his bedroom desk and made every excuse as to why they were there. I encouraged him to carry them down the kitchen, two at a time so he didn’t trip. I exhausted myself trying to gently push these baby steps to get him to be productive. At times, I was more firm because he was the king of excuses.

I know what it’s like to be severely depressed. But I also know the importance of pushing yourself and to keep your environment clean and tidy. His mother cleaned his room so many times. She sent me a photo of the countless large bottles of vodka she found hidden all over the place. She managed to miss one hidden in a carrier bad down the side of his dresser, but I tried not to judge. After all, she was going through so much with him. It frustrated me because I wanted to be there.

When he came home from rehab and he let his room because an absolute state again, I just saw this going downhill and I panicked. I was firm but I was never unkind. He got mean. Oh boy did he always get mean. He relapsed so many times. After the week in detox, he relapsed. After every visit to hospital and withdrawing, he relapsed. As much as he has crushed me and ripped apart my already fragile heart, I really hope he never relapses again.

The difference between he and I? If someone in my family came to check on me I’d be so fucking grateful that someone loved me enough to care, I certainly wouldn’t scream at them to get out of my room.

Dick move. There’s no excuse for being a c*nt.

As a woman who is almost 34, I was concerned about the fact he’d had to move home with his parents. His friend told me on the phone it was because of the addiction and that’s also why he lost his job. He told me a lot of alarming stories. I questioned the authenticity of these ‘stories’ after speaking with my boyfriend. But Fuck knows. I guess don’t need to know anymore.

But I had concerns. He wasn’t able to hold down job. The only reason he wasn’t fired from the current job was because it was a family business. If he didn’t turn up for work after a getting black out drunk he’d not get fired. He’d not lose his home. He lived with his folks. He’d not even lose his car, that he told me wasn’t up to date with inspection. Call me crazy but I think it’s pretty selfish driving a car that hasn’t been certified fit for the road.

After rehab I suggested him giving his keys to his parents. He angrily told me I was wrong. That at rehab they told them that no-one should take away anything as he had to face responsibility. I called bullshit on it and said ‘if my husband was about to get behind the wheel of a car drunk, i’d take his keys and he’d have to go through the police to get them back’. He said ‘I wouldn’t do that’. I wanted to remind him of the DUI he got years previously, but that wouldn’t have been kind. So many times I didn’t throw things in his face to prove a point. I bit my tongue a lot.

He didn’t have to face the responsibilities a lot of men would have to and instead of being grateful he was insufferable. He had the audacity to tell me his week at rehab detoxing was worse than what 18 year old boys faced going to was in WW1 and WW2.

Sorry, did you get trench foot?  Did you live off tinned meat? Were you unsure as to whether you’re about to lose your life? Did you wonder if you’d ever see your loved ones again?

Get fucked. What a fucking insult to those kids who went to war.

One of the most warped sense of perspectives i’ve encountered outside of my own relatives (from whom i’m now very happily estranged).

I knew i’d face a struggle ahead financially. Both he and I did not have our shit together. So I wouldn’t bring a kid into the world. But I did think ‘maybe one day’ we’d both be healthier and financially stable. I feel like a complete fool for ever wanting that with him. For spending a year of my life hoping and praying for him, supporting him whilst my biological clock ticked away. He’s left me so damaged that I don’t even know if I dare even open up to a guy again, let alone consider a relationship.

I could never exchange vows or have a child with someone so incredibly selfish.

I’d be slated for being a ‘bitch’ for pouring my heart out here. After all, he tried to opt out. Unbeknown to those who’d slate me, so did I.

I am filled with compassion for anyone in that much pain, i’ve been there many times. I know I will be again and I fear one day i’ll have the courage. But I don’t think there is any excuse to blame others for your inability to take accountability for the shitty things you do and say. I’ve been told he said ‘i’m a dick, no-one will love me’.

If you believe you’re a dick, it’s completely within your power to change. To grow. To be kinder. To make things right.  Yet he’s evidently not been humbled by this experience. I doubt the validity of his statements. I don’t think he thinks he’s a dick. Why would you think that, and then not come out of this wanting to be kinder? Less selfish?

He was never going to apologise. It was always going to be 100% about him.

The person I fell in love with has faded away. The 5 hour nightly calls where I was falling for a person are a distant memory now. Looking back I see more and more red flags.

He threw the word love around a lot. But he didn’t love. That’s more than clear to me now.

I think he’s quite an angry person.  I feel like a lot of people make a lot of excuses for his behaviour.  I am so glad i’m not surrounded by ‘YES’ people. His friend accused his family of being ‘enablers’ on the phone. Apparently several people have accused his family of being enablers. That really pissed me off because it must be pretty easy to judge someone who has an addict in their family, and i hoped they’d never have to go through it themselves. But I do see how he shouts at them and gets away with it. How he makes excuses and has excuses made for him. If someone in my life heard me screaming at my partner on the phone they’d humble my ass real quick. I surround myself with people who call me out on my shit, and I always will. I respect that. I need that.

I got a text about how decent and kind he was being to people in the hospital and I thought ‘if only he ever showed that kindness to me, his girlfriend’. It irritated me. I wasn’t going to respond, but I just said I wish them all well. Let everyone tell him how amazing of a person he is. He’s always going to lack humility. Be obnoxious and selfish. Unable to take responsibility for his actions.

See, the thing with kindness, I value authentic kindness. Intoku. The act of kindness without seeking reward.

I say this word often, because to me it’s such a beautiful way to view it. But apparently me saying this word means i’m self righteous and the anti thesis of selfless.

I’ll never get my head around such a twisted point of view.  Me trying to share a word, hoping people will open their minds and value sincerity is me virtue signalling?

That’s almost funny. If I wasn’t so heartbroken through all this i’d be amused.

He complained constantly. One time he complained to me about the numbness in his fingers and how it affected his guitar playing. I always listened, always was there for him. One time he took the complaining to the next level and was incredibly shitty with him. So I reminded him that my mother had survived a severe stroke that left her paralysed on her right side. She’s never write again. She can just about scribble her name with her left hand, which i’m incredibly proud of. So fucking proud.

But he has such a shit sense of perspective.

There’s so much pain, and disappointment and gut wrenching heart ache so i’ll end this shortly. Maybe i’ll revisit it, maybe i’ll save it for therapy because sharing my feelings apparently makes me a bad person. Dick.

It’s just so unfair. It’s not fucking fair. I really loved this person. I feel so strung along, and lied to and used. Maybe one day he’ll meet someone who will put up with his bullshit. I put up with it for far too long. BECAUSE of my heart… and compassion and love.

When I said I couldn’t do it anymore, he shouted ‘Well you’re not here for me now are you?!?!’… how much was I supposed to take, to tolerate?

How selfish can someone be?  How much did his loved ones expect me to take?  I’ve been so unwell throughout this, but when I finally have had enough i’m the ‘bad guy’. I’m the asshole.

I was there for him when a lot of people weren’t.  People swoop in later and have the audacity to slate me?  Where were they when he was on the floor passed out drunk? When he was shaking uncontrollably going through withdrawal?  Where the fuck were they?  He told me he didn’t even get a text off some people who knew he was in a bad way. I was trying to convince him to go to rehab. To reassure him he can get better. I was there. Even though I had so much going on at home and I was becoming increasingly more unwell. I was ALWAYS there for him.

I was there. I was fucking there and then when he finally gets the help I get cast aside and not one question about how I am from him? He knows the level of stress I’m under in my personal life, How unwell I am. He knows the amount of pain i’ve endured in my life, he knows how fragile I am.

He never cared. That’s more than evident.

I wish i’d never met him.

But I can’t go back in time so I need to accept it and grow through the pain.

Some one who knew him and went to the same high school as him messaged me when I was trolling on a dating app. (long story, another reason why i’m an awful human, because when he lied to me repeatedly, and I felt lonely and I needed to laugh I went to the thing i’ve done for over a decade and troll with a spoof account on dating apps. This time I wanted to see if my ex had signed up to spite me because i’m a psycho. Hey, I own it. Not a literal pyscho, but problematic behaviour)

Anyway, this dude who knows him (I later found out) messaged me. We had banter. It was fun. He followed me on social media. Good distraction from crying.

… Then he sent a dick pic. Literally out of nowhere. I thought maybe this guy was cool and would get back in touch with my ex and they’d be friends.  He needed decent friends. But then again, was he even a decent friend?

Anyway, Blocked his ass real fast. Is it an American thing?  I actually felt bad for blocking him after he violated my eyes. He seemed cool. Until that point.  But I blocked him, without explanation because it wasn’t cool and made me incredibly uncomfortable. If you randomly did that mid conversation in person you’d be arrested. How are people that socially inept?

Fucking people. I won’t say ‘men’ because some of the best people I know are men and i’m not a raging 3rd wave f.e.m.i.n.i.s.t.  I won’t even type it incase one of them find my blog and I can’t be dealing with the vitriol. I’ve had enough harshness for a life time. I exceeded my limit years ago.

I am going to guard my heart even more next time. Maybe someone will stick around to knock down the walls I build. Maybe not. But I won’t continue to be an ignorer of red flags. That’s for sure.