the worst year of my life
somdy
Sunday August 4, 2024 05:17
@pinpon_sakana on twitter
I'm reading I'm Glad My Mom Died and I'm glad to be reading it, and I would like to get through it quickly, and I would like to work up to my goal of reading and finishing a book every couple days. I want to work through them quickly. I want a way to spend my days waiting for my partner to be free, and I would like to fill it with something other than tiktok or crying about my life falling apart.
CW suicide, death, SA, grief, depression, PTSD, substance abuse, alcoholism, breakups, cheating, sex and I dunno, poor decisions
I've been mourning my old life a lot. I tend to miss my ex and the life we had together. Everything felt like it was set from there. I was halfway through my bachelor's in a topic I loved, we had a lovely apartment with a precious little cat, I was getting in the swing of cooking after class and cleaning on the weekends, and I was making friends and hanging out with people more. My PTSD was getting quiet. Everyone thought we were going to get married. But he had been sleeping on the couch for months. We had no space apart from each other because of the pandemic lockdown, and prior to that because of his surgery, and prior to that because of my agoraphobia. I realized months ago I was no longer romantically attracted to him. I was getting severely depressed. I didn't know if I wanted to stay in school anymore because it was taking a direction away from my original goals. I wanted out of everything.
We had talked about opening up our relationship a few months ago, but after I had started talking to a stud I quickly became obsessed with, he learned he was very monogamous and wasn't comfortable. I cut things off with the stud. I kept my dating apps with the intention to just make friends in a way that was now difficult because of the lockdown. But I was really drunk one night in January after coming out of an almost catatonic month-long depression. And I was talking to a guy who was nice and woke but was persistent in pushing my boundaries, which was exactly the right type of person to get to me, or I guess was exactly the wrong type of person. My ex went to sleep in the living room, the guy got drunk to match me, and I stayed up all night with him on a discord call. And thus started the most emotionally entangled relationship I had ever been in. We became obsessed with each other and thus I fell into emotionally cheating. We had basically half a year's worth of getting to know each other in two weeks and it felt like a relationship already, but I refused to let things develop beyond just talking about everything while I was still in a relationship with my ex. And the guilt finally spurred me to break things off with him. The night I did, I sobbed endlessly, so I left to stay with the guy so we could each have our space. I barely packed anything thinking I would be back after I woke up, but I ended up spending 3 days in this guy's bed as he took classes with his camera background blurred and as he made me food or as he fucked me. I only got up to get in the shower with him. I returned to my ex and our apartment after I was sufficiently numbed.
I had also made friends a bit prior to that with a person who, on paper, shared all my values. They challenged my thinking and pushed me towards more radical stances and actions in a way I really appreciated. I had skills that matched dreams they had. We began a skill share / teaching exchange. We took time together to imagine a hopeful future. At that time, they were fresh out of a bad breakup and couldn't afford living alone, so were at risk of eviction and becoming homeless, so I asked my ex if it would be ok to take them in. My ex agreed. I think he felt as if he had no choice. We were going to have a nice amicable breakup, but that was what started to make it definitely not that.
That friend came to stay with us indefinitely and they... really got in my head. It's painful to talk about so I won't really, but they put things in my head that made me start to get mad at my ex. I gave him ultimatums when I had never before. We were up and down, distant during the day, and then having intense sex at night. And then the person who was staying with us revealed something that made him put pieces together and he discovered I cheated on him. He was rightfully angry and he told his friends and his family and I felt all the bridges around me burn. He was originally going to stay until our lease ended, but he moved out two months before we planned for him to. We still texted, but it was mostly him angry at me. I welcomed it, honestly. It felt good.
And now I was alone with that friend. ...Genuinely, I cannot speak much about what happened. It was one of the hardest times of my life, and they say I ruined theirs. And maybe the worst part is I believe them. Every horrible thing they said about me, has been bouncing around in my head for the last 3 years, and I believe them about myself as if they are inherent, unobjectionable truths. I cannot distinguish what is real from that time we spent together. I was either dissociated out of my mind, high out of my mind, drunk out of my mind, or just plain terrified out of my mind. All I have is what they told me, and everyone in my life objects to what they said, so who knows what the truth is.
My feelings about it are that they kept me high, kept me sleep deprived (keeping me up late to argue, and waking me up early so I could make us food), and that they isolated me. They told me people were using or abusing me and told me I was using or abusing other people, and so I cut off all my relationships. We had come to the conclusion that my parents kept me in "golden handcuffs" and kept me dependent on them for money, cutting down my independence and buying me increasingly expensive things to get me used to a certain lifestyle that I wouldn't be able to afford on my own. We decided I needed to start pulling away from them. My sister came to visit for spring break. She is my favorite person in the world. I did not see her at all. That was my breaking point.
I stayed with my parents for the weekend with no notice. I didn't bring any of my own clothes or toiletries, and just used what my mom shared with me. And then the weekend passed and I went for a walk with my mom on the lakeshore. And I sobbed and told her I was afraid to go home. I'm either scared or numb all the time and I don't want to see that friend. She asked if I could trust her to handle things. I said yes.
She and my dad kicked them out.
That friend then began to send... excrutiating messages to me and my mother. They used all the things I had confided in them against us. I went back and forth between believing the things they said about me and thinking they were just trying to weaponize my trauma and values against me so I would be overcome with guilt. Ultimately, they wanted money from me. I did not have access to any of the money my parents had. I had already used all of my student loans that were for housing to buy them a laptop. They left the laptop and it was now too late to return it. My sister has it now. I have to look away when I see it.
I don't even remember where in the timeline I met my current partner. That friend and I had started a romantic/sexual connection at some point and agreed to nonmonogamy. They described themself as a relationship anarchist and taught me abouot it. They told me about people they were talking to and dates they wanted to go on and did go on and I think I felt compersion. And then I told them about my crush on A and updated them about how our connection was developing, and suddenly they got mad. They kept saying I had broken their trust and had to make things up to them, but no matter what I did I seemed to be no closer. They were mad at me all the time. I was afraid to explore my connection with A. I couldn't maintain school through the stress and fell so far behind in classes that by the midway point I knew the damage was irreparable and I would fail every class and lose my scholarship. I stopped attending. I knew I wouldn't come back.
After my parents kicked that friend out of my apartment, I ended up being too scared they would find their way back in and was so overcome with terror and hallucinations that I moved into my sister's room in my parent's apartment that was currently unoccupied while she was away at school. I made up with my ex and he understood everything. We slept together a few times and had sleepovers in my parents' apartment. He taught me how to play a new fighting game he was very interested in. I was also reconnecting with A, and we developed a lovely connection. And then I knew I was at a crossroads. I could either go back to the person I felt safe with and loved and had spent 3 years with, and who wanted to take me back despite what I did...but know that he was monogamous and I would be agreeing to that and possibly to marriage, which everyone in our lives seemed to expect of us. Or I could choose this new person who was nonmonogamous but who I still didn't know too well. I ended up choosing them. And now they are my safe person and we have spent 3 years together and have built and will continue to build a life together. I chose well, but I didn't know that then.
Our relationship was pretty rocky for the first... maybe year and a half lol. It was basically us being triggered by the other and bringing those old things to the present, and us not having established language between each other and constantly misunderstanding the other. But I'm not talking about that.
The day I had to move everything out of my old apartment my family had to go out of state to see my sick grandmother. It was supposed to be a weekend. She was moved into hospice. It ended up being a month.
I definitely spiraled there. Up till that point, I had already been keeping myself drunk every day so as to not kill myself over what happened with that friend and the thoughts about myself they left me with. Now facing my grandmother's impending death, I found it even harder to cope. My aunt gave me weed. I now spent every day crossed, and each night I'd sober up to do the night shift. I'll skip through this part. Basically, not a lot of people stepped up and I was the only grandchild who took much responsibility. I was one of 4 people who actually physically cared for her. A lot of the others were fucking around, which... I get, was coping in its own way, but I was cracking under the pressure. She held on until all her children and grandchildren came to see her, and immediately after seeing the last batch of grandkids, she called me and my mom into the room and she died in our arms. I fell to the ground. I walked into the forest. I became so drunk. I held it together long enough to write her obituary and plan her funeral and make the brochure, but the day after her funeral, I went to see a boy I met on tinder. He hugged me tightly and held me warmly and picked me up and spun me. He fed me. He got me violently crossed. And then he SA'ed me. I went to the bathroom after. He left terrible hickeys all over my neck and made it hurt to sit. I texted my mom to ask her to call me and act like there was something important I needed to come home for. I turned up the volume when she called so the boy could hear her. She said my aunts were coming and wanted us all to be together for dinner so she'd come to pick me up. I cried in the car and she got us Sonic.
A told me some good news later that evening that was huge for their career and I tried to be enthusiastic but I was numb. A asked what was wrong. I told them I'd been SA'ed. They said something about how they wish someone could be happy for them that day, because everyone seemed to have bad stuff going on. I remember they were mad for me, but I don't remember what they said. I just remember that they were sad no one could be happy for them that day. Sometimes I remember it and act accordingly and they find out I was holding something back and get upset at that now. I dunno.
My dad and sister went home before my mom and I did. My mom still had affairs to organize, but by now all of the family had left. I stayed to help her and give her emotional support. We finally returned home after a month there. It was supposed to be a weekend. I had to buy more clothes while I was there.
I found out later my dad was talking to multiple women and had gone on at least one date with at least one. My parents stopped talking much to each other and instead had me relay messages between them. They argued through me. I slept on the couch and moved my PC out into the kitchen. I had no privacy until everyone was asleep so I stayed up until 6am drunk on crown royal or henessy and talking with friends on discord. Sometimes I'd sneak out to catch an uber to A's in the middle of the night. My antidepressent medication had increased and was interacting poorly with the alcohol. I got really sick one night. I don't remember anything, but A stayed up to talk with me, and apparently I said I should have just stayed with my ex. I passed out and asked my mom to look after me. I asked her to hide alcohol. She didn't. I kept drinking.
My sister was going to move out of state, and I was going to go with her. A and I were getting closer. I wanted to date them for real, and they said they couldn't do long distance. My therapist was trying to help me find therapists, psychologists, and EMDR specialists in the new state. I thought about when I tried to move away for college but my nervous system shut down and I became so sick it took 2 years to recover. I thought about breaking things off with A. I decided to stay.
My mom and sister moved out. I tried to fill my time. I became a suicide intervention volunteer. I fought with my dad all the time. I tried to stay up all night with alcohol and friends to avoid having to interact with my dad during the day. I ended up taking on night shift at the suicide prevention organization. I cracked under the pressure. I couldn't stand being alone with my dad. I ran out of antidepressants and was having withdrawals with terrible moods and brain zaps. I made and drank a dangerous concoction.
I called 911 for myself. They woke my dad up but said I seemed fine and encouraged him to drive me to avoid the ambulance fee. It took 13 hours waiting in the ER to be seen. I was brought to the psych wing, I don't think it was the ward yet. I didn't speak in front of the doctors until the resident, a sweet asian lady, took over the questions. She was probably only a couple years older than me. I cried in front of 6 cold people and her and I could tell they didn't think my shit was that bad. I was escorted around by a nice black lady. I felt much better there than at home and mostly slept and talked sweetly to all the nurses and guards. I was dismissed as long as I promised to make an appointment with an outpatient program. They gave me my clothes and I changed and returned home. I didn't make an appointment.
My mom picked me up that day to go to her apartment out of state. I liked it there, but I was away from all my friends, which put another kind of stress on me. I watched kdramas and played games with my friends, and then I worked at the suicide intervention organization. I started taking on more responsibility, training and running meetings and supervising and making documentation and our organization system. I had the harder cases. One night I threw my phone against the wall. The screen shattered and it was completely unusable. I asked for a break.
I drank a lot of soju. I listened to music all the time. I streamed again. I got a job back in my hometown and was back and forth a bit between my mom and dad. Or was I then? I don't really know the timeline. I was drunk. I was stressed. My cousin was murdered. A couple people who came to the org for help died. I drank. I took the amtrak to visit my partner. I drank.
I visited my partner for a week around their birthday. I learned they had a thing with a girl while I was staying with my mom. The girl I was helping the most and building a case for so she could have help with her abusive family died. It was my late grandma's birthday. And then it was my late dog's birthday and death day (the same day). My parents came together to pick me up. The lease at their old apartment ended so my dad was staying with my mom for now. I decided I couldn't be away from my partner and my friends anymore. My parents supported the move and agreed to financially support me until I could pay for it on my own. I found an apartment near where I grew up. I moved quickly after.
My partner and I regularly spent 3-4 days sleeping over together. I had a job that quickly fell through, but then got a job in a kitchen at a cafe my best friend worked at. I enjoyed working in the kitchen despite the feeling like I was back in the house with my grandma dying and all our family fighting around us whenever the owners were in. I was looking into adopting a cat. I dyed my hair. I interviewed for a job that was perfectly my interests and skills and it went really well. My mom said she'd get me the cat for Christmas. I spent Christmas Eve with my partner's family after I got off work. I visisted my mom on my day off. We picked up my cat on December 28. I dyed my hair again. I hate new year's and fireworks, but I pretended the countdown was for her birthday. We were already inseparable.