[8/30] Days of Truth

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This one obviously belongs to my one and only ex-boyfriend. I know that it’s pretty stereotypical for a girl to attribute ruined lives and hurt feelings to their ex-relationships. I know what readers are expecting out of this, but I can assure you that this is no ordinary ex-boyfriend.

I don’t like the idea of dedicating a whole blog post to him, but I suppose there isn’t really any way around it. Also, this makes my previous post a lot more clear. Now you can see why I said Steven was saving me.

Dissociative

He and I dated for a very long 2 years. Well, it was a month shy of 2 years when I was finally able to break up with him. I had been wanting to leave for about 6 months but it’s difficult to do when the other person refuses.

By “refuses” I mean sobbing and not letting me go until I say everything is okay and threatening to kill himself if I leave him. Looking back I should have just left, because I know now that he wouldn’t have actually gone through with it. But considering he was my first boyfriend and he had many other crazy characteristics, I didn’t think I could risk having something like that hanging over my head.

Even if it really wouldn’t have been my fault.

What are these other crazy characteristics, you ask? Malingering would be a big one. In my (educated) opinion, the only real mental disorders he has is a fictitious disorder. For one thing, his apparent multiple personalities could come and go whenever he pretty well pleased. The bad ones did awful things to me and when I confronted him about it, he would act confused.

There’s a possible risk of pathological lying, but his lies were more beneficial to him than self-harming. But no label is completely definitive; there are some exceptions.

I’m not going to disclose the more awful, private things here. Just trust me when I say they affected me for a very long time and contributed to a lot of problems I currently have. I am doing a lot better though, might I add.

For a while, I wondered if I was asking for it. I did some odd things myself, in order to cope. I was ashamed and didn’t tell anyone the extent of what was going on. He made me doubt myself and I hated him for it.

He spent a week or so in a youth program for the mentally ill, which made things worse, considering it was for guys and girls. He was hopped up on drugs (although he could have been exaggerating) and decided to hit on my friend, who I brought for comfort when I went to see him, by running his hand up her dress.

He became controlling and was convinced that my bestfriend was trying to steal me away from him. He didn’t want me seeing any of my friends. He had tantrums if things didn’t go his way. Two specific tantrums come to mind:

1. At school: My ex asked if I would go to his house after school one day and, forgetting that I had already told my friend I was going to her house, said sure. When we were in class my friend reminded me I was to go to her house and my ex freaked out, flipped desks, punched lockers, screamed “WHY?” in my face, and followed me into the girls bathroom where he cornered me and continued to yell, “WHY RAYVEN? WHY?” while sobbing.
2. After-Party: My ex accompanied me to our friend’s party one night and was well aware that in the morning, I was to leave with one of my other friends to go Christmas tree cutting with her. When it came time for me to leave, he blocked the door. I finally made it out and he chased after me wearing socks, in the snow, crying and asking me not to leave.

When we were 16, he proposed to me at school. That should have been a major warning sign.

After we broke up, the world decided to take a big shit on me and we ended up moving in with his family. Both our families were financially stuck and determined to find a new place. I can’t stress enough how desperate I was to move. The condition my apartment was in made me want to cry every time I had to go there.

He was always trying to get back together with me and he spoke about me to anyone and everyone. Including my close friends. When I told him to stop talking about me, he denied that he ever did, despite the fact that my friends would constantly ask me about things he was saying. He even told my friend that he enjoyed making me angry, because it meant I was paying attention to him.

He told people that he alone, was supporting his family and my family, which was completely ridiculous. His family was taking advantage of ours and they ended up breaking the lease, leaving my parents with bills they couldn’t pay.

I told him I wanted to ignore his presence in the house and asked him not to communicate with me. Of course, he refused to do as I asked and continued to buy me things and try to talk to me. When my boyfriend was away on a cruise, I woke up to find him spooning me, with his hand between my legs. I woke up because I felt my pants being lowered. When I looked at him, all I got was a blank stare and, “what?” I locked myself in the bathroom.

It was all the more frustrating when I would gain the courage to let our mothers know what was going on and the answer I received was, “well Rayven he’s an adult now and I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do as a parent.” I never felt so ignored in my life.

To this day, I haven’t told my parents the extent of what he’s done. My parents highly dislike him for their own reasons and simply because I never hide my negative feelings towards him.

He made my life hell. I have so much pent up anger and frustration because of that whole ordeal. I experienced things I would never wish on anyone else and my self-esteem was severely damaged.

As for the present, I haven’t spoken to him since he moved out. I think it’s been about 3 years. He spreads lies about me and accuses me of being the controlling one. I’m also pretty damn sure he does meth now. He sells it, at the very least, and has dedicated his life to raving.

I don’t waste my time thinking about him, unless he somehow comes up in conversation. I try to cut that down as much as possible though. He knows what he’s done and the lies he’s told. He has to deal with it, and he’ll also have to deal with never being forgiven.

[ lyrics ] I threw away, even my slightest hope, deep down. And I go mad again tonight – and again tonight I go mad.