my darkest, most hateful side–the one that lashes out when I get hurt–is alive and kicking. right now a long string of obscenities and hateful words are screeching in my brain. i want to break…EVERYTHING.
<STAY AWAY FROM ME AND DIE!!>
after the upsetting conversation with XBF this morning, I called him a couple of hours ago. When he asked what’s up, I said he had messaged me to call him later tonight (not included in the conversation I posted), and he seemed to recall this from some distant place
<HOW THE FUCK MANY TIMES HAVE I BEEN THERE FOR YOU WHEN YOU CALLED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, SICK, AND NEEDED ME TO COME PICK YOU UP?!>
<I FUCKING HATE YOU FOR TELLING ME I COULD TRUST YOU TIME AND TIME AND THAT I COULD RELY ON YOU FOR HELP, AND THEN WHEN I ASK FOR IT YOU CAN’T SEEM TO BE BOTHERED, OR SOMEHOW YOU’VE TAKEN SOME FUCKING BULLSHIT ETHICAL HIGH ROAD ABOUT WHY YOU SHOULDN’T>
…and I’m back. Anyway, he seemed to recall this from some distant place (“oh yeah…”) and then asked me to call him a little later so he could make a call and get food. I was slightly annoyed, but mostly because I was annoyed from this morning and it was starting to build up. Can’t really hate on someone for wanting to eat, y’know?
So he called me back about an hour later, and asked again, what’s up. I asked about his reaction this morning to the lithium thing, and he started off saying that lithium is only given for bipolar 1. I, incorrectly, interrupted him to tell him this is not the case because I thought that if his entire argument was based on that premise it should be corrected.
He also had the know-it-all tone and I got annoyed. It mostly annoys me because he has some experience with friends and family who have addiction, and his cousin is an addiction counselor. Sometimes this translate to a sense of subtle condescension, holier-than-thou attitude, and the impression that he knows everything there is to know about it, and somehow also other medications or disorders.
He shut down and said since I knew it all I didn’t need his opinion. And then I asked him if he read the book I bought for him on Kindle. I bought it for him last time he was over, about two days ago, because he had told me he would do whatever I needed him to do to help me reduce stress. I also wanted him to read more fully about bipolar disorder before offering support and before we agreed to officially get back together.
His response seemed to take forever. There was almost a minute of silence which was fucking agonizing because this was not what I had expected based on our previous conversation.
<FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU!!!!!>
When he finally spoke, his response was that he would let me know in a couple of days what he was going to do.
<WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN A COUPLE OF DAYS!? WHAT EXACTLY DO YOU HAVE TO THINK ABOUT BEFORE “DECIDING” TO READ A BOOK YOU ALREADY PROMISED TO READ?!?>
My stomach sank even further and I suddenly felt the need to projectile vomit everywhere.
So, I’m pretty sure the urgency in my voice was pretty clear when I asked what he meant. Then he had the gall to give me a speech, in the know-it-all, I’m just being suuuuuper mature here voice, that he didn’t want to ENABLE me. That now he wasn’t sure if he was making my life better and that he just seems to be stressing me out all the time. Take for example, he said, this morning, and how stressed I got about him not responding right away. I actually just blinked and shook my head as if to be sure that was the example he was using, and pointed out that in anyone’s situation, if you were telling a close friend or lover or soon-to-be-boyfriend-again that you were uncomfortable and stressed, and mid-conversation they stopped talking for almost 15 minutes without warning, especially after his TONE in the conversation already, it would stress you the fuck out. Give me a fucking break.
I tried to listen but when he used the word ENABLE, it was like a switch. Especially since he has put quite a bit of pressure on me to watch my drinking, quit smoking, and avoid illicit drugs… ALL of which, by the way, I have SUCCEEDED in eliminating from my life for almost 3 months now.
<BUT HEY, IT’S TOTALLY COOL IF HE WANTS TO GET HIGH ON POT, OR SUCK DOWN NITROUS ALL NIGHT. CIGARS ARE FINE BUT CIGARETTES ARE DISGUSTING.>
Especially because he included it in a sentence where he has been “talking to a lot of friends” <ABOUT MY FUCKING DIAGNOSIS!? I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU! I HOPE YOU FUCKING DIE! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!!!!!>.
…I’ve been sitting here staring for I don’t know how many minutes. The heat coming off my body from the anger I feel is making me sweat. I keep hearing his reassurances, his expressions of love for me and how he wants to spend his whole life with me, and that he accepts me no matter if I have a bipolar diagnosis, and that I can trust and rely on him…all of these things, interspersed by the bullshit excuses he just gave and how he now needs a few days to decide whether he will start reading a book he promised to read, and whether he is right for me right now, and so on.
I want a pack of cigarettes right now so bad I am about two seconds from walking to the nearest Circle K and buying a carton. My body is paralyzed by anxiety and fear and depression all at the same time. What trust I had built with him is shattered. At my greatest time of need and uncertainty, and when I finally reached out for help after almost a year of being too scared to do so, now he chooses to create distance, to go back on what he said, and to introduce an uncertain end to a relationship that has already had its share of tumultuous periods.
Fuck it. furreals, y’all. fuck it.