I keep hearing explosions. Every now and again. Not like fireworks. Like, randomly, an explosion. And I think I may have just heard gunshots again. I hate this place.
I did a lot of self searching today and thinking. And it tastes bad. I think back, and I think back, and I think further back, and I’m just like… you know what? Fuck. He did this. And I’m paying for it. Wtf.
All the times we were happiest were when his toxic friends weren’t around. That’s neither here nor there. They did things to him and let other people do things to him and pushed it under the rug. Convinced him to keep his mouth shut. And I said hell no. I took him in and let him heal. I tracked down the specific jackass who violated him and told him that I would turn him in unless he apologized for what he’d done. And he did. Ben got closure.
Pending that closure, I was there. Just as therapy. There was a time I even let him beat the shit out of me, just to get those horrible feelings out. It wasn’t an abuse thing. It was consensual. After my stepdad passed away, the family and I had a fun little fight club in the front yard just to blow off steam. It was fun, and it was a good way to blow off steam and also practice self defense. But I digress.
We were happy. When those people were out of his life, we were the happiest we could be. And I know that I did have some self worth issues, but I was getting help.
Things only got worse after Faron died and I decided maybe I shouldn’t keep him from his friends, maybe they’ve changed, maybe they’re supportive. I didn’t like it, but I felt like I shouldn’t try to control that. I don’t know. It just seemed at the time like a good idea. Because he didn’t want to do therapy, and he didn’t have any other support.
A mistake that we thought we were finally past when we got evicted and things got even worse. I was incredibly stressed out. No support. Back in an environment that brought out the worst of me. Made me feel worthless. And instead of being there for me, both Matt and Ben went off the deep end and started having emotional affairs and shit like that. It was a lot for me.
I hadn’t taken cold pills in years until the eviction. And as Ben pushed me away, I started using them again. I continued to try to convince him to get help. He didn’t want to. So, I put myself on the back burner for him. Started taking cold pills so I could deal with how he was making me feel. And when I did, I started functioning better and actually made friends and things. Started to grow again. Make progress. I even started therapy, which was a big step for me. Brandon weaseled his way back into our lives by pretending to be someone else. And I said “okay, sure. If you can *not* be an ass, we can be friends.” And for a while we were.
But Ben started pushing me away again. More and more. Kept refusing therapy. Blew me off. Became emotionally neglectful. And I started to break.
And I had a break. And he did something that anyone who knows me knows that you don’t do if you really want to help me. He called the goddamn cops. But he didn’t just call them. He came in here and antagonized me into throwing things at him just so he could have an excuse to call the police to take me away.
That was not the way to do it. And it fucked me up. It was a traumatic experience. No one listened to my needs. I needed to go home. I needed to be with my loved ones. I needed their support. Not isolation. But they kept me there. They isolated me and treated me like shit, and before I even made it out the door, Ben calls up and says “Oh, by the way, Ivy’s going bye-bye.” 😐
Like I needed that.
So great homecoming! But it didn’t end there! Suddenly, he decided he wanted out of the relationship for a while. So I lost him and Ivy all in one day. And for two god damn fucking months, his ass ghosted the fuck out of me while letting his asshole friends harass and attack me. Two months of hell, when I needed support. Not only this, but he took all our mutual friends with him. I wasn’t myself when I spewed some shit into discord about them being fake-ass motherfuckers, but… considering how they all took his side and abandoned me in my time of need, I guess I was right.
Two months. I’ve been treated like goddamn fucking shit. By everyone. I’ve been thrown through hoops. Been forced to do all the legwork in this case. Even though what happened during my breakdown did, in fact, happen to me too, I’m the one paying for all of it, and I’m fucking fed up.
This asshole calls me out of the clear blue sky after two months of treating me like shit and starts making demands and expecting me to just fall at his feet and say “YES MY LOVE, ANYTHING FOR YOU!” Which I did. For a few days. But after he said he would unblock me so we would talk, and then blew me off completely until he needed something, I decided I’m really not interested in being fucked around anymore. So I gave him the chance to call me so I could decide for myself if I was ready to go do the storage unit thing with him.
This man said he’s too fucking busy at 4:00 in the afternoon to have a five minute phone call with me. So I told him it wasn’t going to work and we’d have to reschedule. Know what he did? He went whining to Matt (who he’s also blown off for the last two months) and threatened me behind my back. 😐
And you know what pisses me off? Everyone treating me like shit for growing a backbone. Matt came in and started being a dick, acting like I was being completely fucking unreasonable. So I went to my mom and said “what do you think?” And she did the same fucking thing!
Oh, I’m sorry! Were you too comfortable with me being a doormat? That’s on you. I’m not a doormat. I’m a human being with feelings that matter. And I am so. Fucking. Done. With putting everyone else’s feelings before mine and being used and abused and taken advantage of and punished and manipulated and gaslighted and everything other thing.
I’m done letting everyone be selfish with me. I am not a fucking vending machine.