skippingrecords
send me back to the stars
- Jan 30, 2020
- 13
I wasn't active here for a while. Also sorry this is so long. I have no one to actually talk about this with.
I was in a relationship with a man who helped me see a future for myself with him. We lived together. He promised me he would never leave, promised we would marry, I let my guard down and believed him. And I knew it was all true. I knew he was completely devoted to me, I knew he would marry me. And it was all I wanted. He was my dream man come to my life, genuinely. I couldn't believe my luck. I was so happy being loved for the first time.
Then, me and my CPTSD completely destroyed the relationship. I slowly became more codependent, more volatile. My emotions hinged on him. I watched myself fall out of my own control, back into a trauma cycle, stuck in fight/flight with no way out, hating myself more and more every day as I compulsively started fights, and watched as he tried to keep loving me but slipped away anyways. I couldn't understand why I couldn't just stop acting so crazy. Mood and rationality completely shifting based off of a tone shift in his voice. Hitting myself in the head when I'd get too overwhelmed in a fight, raising my voice, ridiculous assumptions and jumps to conclusions, leaving the room in fights, losing all rationality, sobbing for affection in the middle of an argument that I started, crying after sex all the time. I couldn't see it at the time but I was being triggered by the relationship itself, it was causing my unhealed (and unfortunately extensive) childhood traumas to bubble back to the surface. I was so irrational I can't even comprehend myself or why I act the way I do. Almost my whole life is just made up of trauma responses I don't understand the function of. He said that I broke him. He fell out of love. He fell out of love, but didn't break up with me until weeks later. He broke up with me after I got back from visiting family. I had asked for reassurance before I left that he wouldn't break up with me when I got back - I was anxious that he would enjoy being away from me more than being together (we were fighting nonstop, my subconscious knew we were near the end) - and he gave me that reassurance, knowing he was going to. We had sex two days before he broke up with me. I honestly don't know how many times we had sex while he was out of love with me. He said once he fell out of love, he never initiated, but he didn't have to go along either.
I guess he wasn't perfect either - he would start fights sometimes as well. He has OCD and retroactive jealousy disorder. It was hard having him constantly accuse me of doing bad things. He would constantly accuse me of masturbating, something I was not allowed to do. I wouldn't take my phone into the bathroom or spend too long in the bathroom. Sometimes he wouldn't hear the toilet flush and would get upset at me, thinking I had gone in for other reasons. He would accuse me of being attracted to his dad. I was fine dealing with all these things, because he was going to get help and it wouldn't always be this way. He had been cheated on twice and I understood his anxieties and how it manifested. We were both supposed to get help, because underneath our diagnosis's were two really compatible people, regardless of how it sounds when I'm only typing the bad stuff. But while he had amazing qualities that always shone through, I slowly but surely became my diagnosis. I wasn't me anymore. There was nothing left to love. I couldn't change and it completely wrecked him. And I can't live with the guilt of hurting the man I love.
I also know I will very likely never find another man I'm willing to date. And even if I did find another man, I'd likely just emotionally ruin him as well. I have been doing nothing but working on myself since the breakup hoping for reconciliation, with little result so far. Staying away from dating is the only way I'm emotionally safe from things I know would destroy me in ways I can't handle.
Life just seems very meaningless when I know I won't get to spend it with anyone. I don't have any friends to fall back on, I don't have a life plan, I will likely never move past my minimum wage housekeeping job due to an inability to work 8 hour shifts and my inability to work in any type of environment other than being totally alone with near-full freedom of how to govern my day. Will I always suck?There is too much trauma in my past and I will never be able to afford the therapy to fix it all, and even then, would my ex want to reconcile after the shit I put him through? Yes, he was devoted once, but you can only take so much.
I have three options:
1) let my eating disorder kill me
- I am substantially underweight. This way seems very slow and painful, but has a certain appeal that probably only other people with anorexia would understand
2) wrist slitting
- I'm super comfortable with a blade and already know the perfect spot from when I accidentally nicked an artery in high school
3) sodium nitrite
- seems like an almost painless way to go out, less gruesome for whoever finds me for sure.
I want to hold out for a bit longer. I still hold out a little hope for us. I know I hurt him more than he hurt me, but I do keep working on myself in the hope that I become the woman that deserves to love him. I'll never stop loving him. That's the unfortunate thing about my abuse, is that it made me so unconditionally loving. He's normal - we were toxic and he fell out of love. Me? I will never be able to let him go. I will unfortunately love him until the end. I know this because I still love everyone in my life who has fucked me over, and I don't know why I still love them. I simply can't stop. However, as for me, I have proved time and time again that I am unloveable. If my parents can't manage to, if the man who wanted to marry me couldn't stay, if the only other man who ever said it to me raped me, rendering his words meaningless, who will ever love me? I am too damaged. It sounds so stupid to kill yourself because of a failed relationship, but it's more of a domino effect. There's been too much shit in my life. This just happened to be the last one to fall.
I was in a relationship with a man who helped me see a future for myself with him. We lived together. He promised me he would never leave, promised we would marry, I let my guard down and believed him. And I knew it was all true. I knew he was completely devoted to me, I knew he would marry me. And it was all I wanted. He was my dream man come to my life, genuinely. I couldn't believe my luck. I was so happy being loved for the first time.
Then, me and my CPTSD completely destroyed the relationship. I slowly became more codependent, more volatile. My emotions hinged on him. I watched myself fall out of my own control, back into a trauma cycle, stuck in fight/flight with no way out, hating myself more and more every day as I compulsively started fights, and watched as he tried to keep loving me but slipped away anyways. I couldn't understand why I couldn't just stop acting so crazy. Mood and rationality completely shifting based off of a tone shift in his voice. Hitting myself in the head when I'd get too overwhelmed in a fight, raising my voice, ridiculous assumptions and jumps to conclusions, leaving the room in fights, losing all rationality, sobbing for affection in the middle of an argument that I started, crying after sex all the time. I couldn't see it at the time but I was being triggered by the relationship itself, it was causing my unhealed (and unfortunately extensive) childhood traumas to bubble back to the surface. I was so irrational I can't even comprehend myself or why I act the way I do. Almost my whole life is just made up of trauma responses I don't understand the function of. He said that I broke him. He fell out of love. He fell out of love, but didn't break up with me until weeks later. He broke up with me after I got back from visiting family. I had asked for reassurance before I left that he wouldn't break up with me when I got back - I was anxious that he would enjoy being away from me more than being together (we were fighting nonstop, my subconscious knew we were near the end) - and he gave me that reassurance, knowing he was going to. We had sex two days before he broke up with me. I honestly don't know how many times we had sex while he was out of love with me. He said once he fell out of love, he never initiated, but he didn't have to go along either.
I guess he wasn't perfect either - he would start fights sometimes as well. He has OCD and retroactive jealousy disorder. It was hard having him constantly accuse me of doing bad things. He would constantly accuse me of masturbating, something I was not allowed to do. I wouldn't take my phone into the bathroom or spend too long in the bathroom. Sometimes he wouldn't hear the toilet flush and would get upset at me, thinking I had gone in for other reasons. He would accuse me of being attracted to his dad. I was fine dealing with all these things, because he was going to get help and it wouldn't always be this way. He had been cheated on twice and I understood his anxieties and how it manifested. We were both supposed to get help, because underneath our diagnosis's were two really compatible people, regardless of how it sounds when I'm only typing the bad stuff. But while he had amazing qualities that always shone through, I slowly but surely became my diagnosis. I wasn't me anymore. There was nothing left to love. I couldn't change and it completely wrecked him. And I can't live with the guilt of hurting the man I love.
I also know I will very likely never find another man I'm willing to date. And even if I did find another man, I'd likely just emotionally ruin him as well. I have been doing nothing but working on myself since the breakup hoping for reconciliation, with little result so far. Staying away from dating is the only way I'm emotionally safe from things I know would destroy me in ways I can't handle.
Life just seems very meaningless when I know I won't get to spend it with anyone. I don't have any friends to fall back on, I don't have a life plan, I will likely never move past my minimum wage housekeeping job due to an inability to work 8 hour shifts and my inability to work in any type of environment other than being totally alone with near-full freedom of how to govern my day. Will I always suck?There is too much trauma in my past and I will never be able to afford the therapy to fix it all, and even then, would my ex want to reconcile after the shit I put him through? Yes, he was devoted once, but you can only take so much.
I have three options:
1) let my eating disorder kill me
- I am substantially underweight. This way seems very slow and painful, but has a certain appeal that probably only other people with anorexia would understand
2) wrist slitting
- I'm super comfortable with a blade and already know the perfect spot from when I accidentally nicked an artery in high school
3) sodium nitrite
- seems like an almost painless way to go out, less gruesome for whoever finds me for sure.
I want to hold out for a bit longer. I still hold out a little hope for us. I know I hurt him more than he hurt me, but I do keep working on myself in the hope that I become the woman that deserves to love him. I'll never stop loving him. That's the unfortunate thing about my abuse, is that it made me so unconditionally loving. He's normal - we were toxic and he fell out of love. Me? I will never be able to let him go. I will unfortunately love him until the end. I know this because I still love everyone in my life who has fucked me over, and I don't know why I still love them. I simply can't stop. However, as for me, I have proved time and time again that I am unloveable. If my parents can't manage to, if the man who wanted to marry me couldn't stay, if the only other man who ever said it to me raped me, rendering his words meaningless, who will ever love me? I am too damaged. It sounds so stupid to kill yourself because of a failed relationship, but it's more of a domino effect. There's been too much shit in my life. This just happened to be the last one to fall.
