Thursday, December 23, 2010

i don't believe in resolutions (part 1)...

Fair warning, this is a really long post... like, really long.  And, I don't expect many of you to actually read it... basically, I'm going to use my blog as a personal therapy session.  I've split it into two parts, because it's actually THAT LONG... and my pointer has been hovering for a long time over "Publish Post."

I may not believe in resolutions, but I do believe in trying to leave things behind... so this is what this post is about, what I want to leave behind in 2010.

For the past three years, ending in July of 2010, I have been involved in a emotionally, verbally, mentally, and physically abusive relationship... at the hands of R.

It's embarrassing, and it's hard to write about.  It makes me feel sick when I think about R and what he did to me, what he put me through, but more-so, it makes me sick that I had let myself become so brainwashed by him, that I let my self-respect and self-esteem sink so low, that I essentially let him do this stuff to me... that I was so naive, that I actually believed his lies... his promises for change.

We were friends for four years before we started dating.  We met on the internet, on the message boards for the Canadian television channel Much Music.  We met through some ridiculous stream of messages, and he messaged me and asked me for my msn (oh, msn, ahaha), and we were inseparable from the first time we started talking.  We would go online each night and talk for hours and hours and hours... often, well into the morning.

My sister always used to make fun of me and tell me that I was going to end up marrying him.

He saw me through some hard times, another rough relationship with a guy who was no good for me, a lot of drama, a lot of pain.  In my mind, he was always there for me.  He was the biggest constant in my life.

We were supposed to meet before an AFI concert.  I was going to lend him $20 so that he could go, and we would hang out together.  We never found each other in the mall, each time I looked for him, he was looking down, he claimed.  He later confided in me that he was supposedly going to ask me out that day, but that after the disappointment of us not meeting, he settled and asked out H instead.

H was good four years younger than R, and he was eighteen.  That should have told me something in the first place... 

He told me horror stories about how poorly she treated him, how she would get mad and call him a "Dirty Mexican," how when they broke up, she had cheated on him with two guys in the same night, one of which supposedly called  R with H's cellphone to tell him that H was blowing him as they talked.

R asked me out through a text message, while he was visiting family in El Salvador.  He didn't so much as ask me out, as he asked me why we hadn't "hooked up" yet.  His exact words.  "Why haven't we hooked up yet?"

Uhh... because I'm not that kind of girl?

We got his meaning straightened out, and I said yes.  I was ecstatic.  

About two days later, he told me he loved me.  I was terrified.  It was too soon, I didn't know what to say.  He got REALLY mad at me and told me that if I was hesitating to say it, that obviously I didn't feel the same way, and that he had made a mistake.  He guilted me into telling him that I loved him right then and there, after text message arguing with me for an entire day.

I should have recognized the signs from the start, even before we were dating... but, hindsight is 20/20.

Before we were dating, he would get all pissy if I were going to go out partying with my friends, and he would not talk to me for a few days afterwards.  After we started dating, he told me that when we were just friends, he considered not being my friend anymore because I went out partying with my friends all of the time, that he didn't think drinking should be necessary to be social, that he thought it was stupid.

At the time, our first year seemed amazing, our relationship seemed like everything I ever wanted.  One of my friends from high school got married, and I took R to the wedding with me as my date... at one point in time he leaned over to me and said "Next year, this will be us."  He was always telling me about how he wanted to get married and have a family with me.  My nickname for him was muffin, and his for me was cupcake... he used to call our potential family our "little bakery."

It wasn't as amazing as I gave it credit for.  He was possessive, he used to get upset when I had stuff to do, like homework, and couldn't spend as much time as he wanted with him.  That was how he set up the relationship, he made me dependent on him being around all of the time.  He would get pissed off when I would go out with friends.  I went out one night with a girl from class and her friend, and he got so incredibly pissed off at me, he called me a slut and a whore and told me I was just like his slut of an ex-girlfriend, H.  That I was good for nothing, he threatened to leave me, he demanded to know where I was going, he told me he was going to follow me around all night, he sent me a thousand messages in the span of a few hours... because I was going out to the bar with a few girl friends.

He slowly got me to phase out my friends, every time they asked me if I wanted to join them, I always said no, because I knew I woudn't be allowed to, I knew he would call me a whore and throw a fit.  He even made me feel bad for the times I stayed in and had a few drinks in my own house with my own sister.  I wasn't allowed to do anything unless he was there.  And then, when I invited him to go the bar with my friends and I, he spent the night clinging on to me... literally.  I wasn't allowed to even go to the bathroom without him waiting outside.

Yet, he would spend all of his time on his phone, texting and calling other girls.  He was so possessive of that phone, he would get so upset if I went anywhere near it, but he would ALWAYS look through my phone.  He would just grab it and look at all of my messages.  I never cared, I had nothing to hide... but it bothered me that he would get viciously angry if I went anywhere near his phone.

It would scare me when he got upset about things, he had a temper he would never admit to.  He smashed glasses when he was mad at me... when his phone seemed to quit working, he smashed it on my desk in a fit of rage until it was entirely broken.  He did this to two phones.  He would scream and turn so red... but I let it all slide because I was in love, and it didn't seem that bad... the good times were far more common than the bad.  His mom would talk about how R and I were going to get married, and she used to introduce me to people as her daughter.

Shit started to hit the fan when R started college.  He had taken some time off after high school, and then decided he wanted t go to NAIT for the radio program there.  So, I helped R with all of the applying to college stuff, applying for loans stuff, sat through him whining about how hard it was do all of this, blah blah blah... he finally got accepted and started school.

That September, everything changed.  Suddenly, after demanding that I spend all my time with him, he was pushing me away.  He wouldn't answer my texts, he wouldn't answer my calls, he always told me he was too busy for me, when he did make time for me, he made me feel bad about it.  He made me feel like crap for having night classes, he told me that that was the reason we could never see each other--I ended up dropping a life drawing night class that I had wanted to take since the semester before, to make him happy.  He made me feel like shit, all of the time, he made me cry every time he saw me... and half a month earlier he had been telling me that we would be married by next year.

We were in the mall one day, and this chick from R's class was up ahead, he started screaming her name, and waving like a mad man, he shoved me away from him (he had been walking with me by his side, with his arm around me, cuddling with me and giving me kisses before seeing her), and ran twenty feet ahead of me.  He didn't introduce me to her, he pretended I wasn't there.  And he got pissed at me for introducing myself to her.

He started drinking, a lot.  All the time, he was always going out, telling me I wasn't allowed to come; he would get entirely trashed and then sleep at other people's houses, he would get mad when I would text him when he was out.  He was constantly drinking, despite telling me that he had wanted to stop being friends with me because I drank with my friends.  Suddenly, he was throwing away everything he told me he believed in for these new people.

I decided that it was time to end things.  He wouldn't answer my calls or see me in person, opting instead to call me a worthless bitch and tell me to leave him alone, so I had no choice but to e-mail him this huge letter to tell him it was over.  I had taken an entire month of him treating me like garbage and making me cry, I had had enough.

He e-mailed me back (yes, e-mailed, didn't even bother to call me or try to see me in person) to tell me that he realized what a huge mistake he was making, how he couldn't lose me, blah blah blah... that I was his soul mate.  He begged me for a second chance.  So I have him his first of 1019495902830 second chances.

Things seemed okay.  He was suddenly able to spend time with me (oh, surprise, he actually had spare time?), he was being nice to me, he was attentive.  And he kept hinting that my birthday, which was fast approaching, was going to be big.

It was, he bought me my dream guitar... and he also bought me a ring.  It was a simple opal set in gold, and he told me that he didn't believe in promise rings, so I could basically consider it an engagement ring... then he suggested that I should buy him a ring (seriously, he told me to buy him a ring).  Which I did.  I went out and spent almost $200 on a ring for him, despite the fact that the ring he bought me was $30, at most.

Not only that, but on the day I was buying it for him, it was taking a little longer than I expected, and we were supposed to meet in the mall.  He started calling my phone over and over again, sending me a million text messages, entirely pissed that I was late for meeting up with him... the one time I was EVER late.  He was red in the face and pissed as hell when I FINALLY met up with him, fifteen minutes after I told him I would meet him.  I had sent him a bunch of texts beforehand, telling him that I would be a bit late but I was hurrying.

Anyways, that weekend I was having my birthday party... he spent the entire time texting someone on his phone.  Every time I looked at him, he was texting someone.  So, I confronted him about it the next morning, as he was STILL texting this person, but trying to be secretive about it.  When I asked him about it, he got entirely pissed off, deleted everything off of his phone, and threw it at me across the room.  Obviously, he was doing something inappropriate on his phone.

So, here's where I admit that what I did was wrong.  I waited until he slept over the next weekend, and, when he was sleeping, I looked through his phone.  There was a conversation with one girl, A, where he was telling her that he wished they could be together, how they should break up with the people they were each with, how all he ever wanted to do was kiss her, how he didn't know how much longer he was going to be with the "chick" he was with right now (aka, me), he also asked her if she had received the pictures he sent her.  There were similar conversations with another girl, K (who ended up being fourteen years old, he was almost 20), and, also, dirty texts from H (yes, ex H).  There was a conversation with a girl who had sent a text to the wrong number, where he asked her where she was from, how old she was, asked her if she had msn, told her she sounded hot, and then asked her for pictures of herself.  Digging further into his phone, I found the pictures he had been talking about.  Pictures of him nude and masturbating, accompanied by videos of him masturbating.

I felt sick.  He was sending pictures and videos of himself masturbating to other girls, and probably getting similar things in return from them.  He had given me a stupid ring, and then had told A that he didn't know how much longer he was going to be with the "chick" he was with anymore, and begging her to leave her boyfriend for him, he was messing around with H, again (I found out that he had started things up with her again, apparently mostly over the internet and through text messages, around six months after we had started dating), and he was messing around with K, a fourteen year old (and that had started up around our first Christmas together).

I got out of bed, walked to the corner of my room by my door, sat down, and started crying.  My crying woke R up, and he seemed genuinely concerned, until I told him WHY I was crying.  At that point, he became enraged.  We got into a huge fight, and that's when he pinned me to the bed and strangled me... ALMOST until I passed out.  How kind.

Then, upon realizing what he had done, he begged for my forgiveness, and threatened to kill himself if I left him.  I was in a state of shock, I had no idea what to do, so, I went to go take a shower.  Upon returning, I found him "passed out" on my bed... the drama queen had taken three of my Tylenol Migraine Reliefs, and claimed that he was overdosing.  The only thing that I could think of was that we had to be at his parents' house in like an hour and a half.  I couldn't deal with everything that was going on.

That's right, he had been cheating on me, he had strangled me, he had been lying... and I had to take care of him.  I was supposed to feel sorry for HIM... and that was what he was like for the remainder of the relationship.

He would cheat.

I would catch him.

He would strangle me.  Or threaten to kill me.  Or threaten me with kitchen knives.  Or shove me into things.  Or drag me around by my hair.  Or swing at me.  Or drive recklessly in traffic.  He would call me stupid.  Call me a bitch.  Tell me I was worthless.  Tell me I would never mean anything to anyone.  Tell me he was doing me a favour by being with me, because no man would ever love me.  Tell me I was going to die alone.  Tell me he was going to find a new girlfriend and flaunt her in my face to show me how much better she is.  Tell me he could do anything to me, because he knew I would let him come crawling back... and I did, because he wore down every last ounce of my self worth and self-esteem, until I wasn't even a person anymore.  I was a hollow shell of a person, who only lived to serve his purposes... and when I fought back, I was garbage, I was trash, I was a piece of shit, I was a selfish bitch... for wanting what everyone else is not only afforded in their relationships, but also afforded as common courtesies in day to day life.

Sometimes we would break up for a month or two months.

Sometimes his restitutions were immediate.

In the end, he did always come crawling back, saying the prettiest little lies.  Telling me he loved me, telling me it would never happen again, telling me he couldn't live without me, screaming that he would kill himself if I didn't take him back.  He would stand outside of where I was living, screaming and crying, and he would throw things at my windows, call me a thousand times back to back, send me a million text messages... until I talked to him out of embarrassment and frustration.  Then he would start making promises.  He would promise me that he would cut out all of the bad people from his life, all of his online sluts, all of his ex-girlfriends that he fucked around with, all of the people who were a bad influence on him.  He would swear he was going to devote himself to me, and that he was going to stop drinking, because it made him do stupid things.  He made so many promises, and told me that I could hold him to all of them, because I was the only person in his life that mattered, I was the only person he cared about.  I was his soul mate.

And the promises would last for about a week, then he would start acting like a disgusting, cheating, lying, dirty creep again.

And it would start all over.

I loved him, and he knew it.  I loved him with all of my heart, and I wanted to believe the things he was telling me.

Also, I was afraid.  I had been told so many times, over and over again by R that I was worthless, and that no one will love me, that I don't deserve better than him... and it got to the point where I believed it.  Where I believed it when he told me that if I left him, that I would never be able to have the family that I wanted, that I was going to die alone.  He took away every last bit of my self-esteem and self-worth, and it's still something that I struggle with.

I just tried so bloody hard.

For his twentieth birthday, at the end of November, I spent all of my time and money making birthday plans for him, doing what he claimed he wanted to do, put my whole heart into it. And, the night before, he told me he was going to spend the night with his extended family. He took the bus with me to the grocery store, then, instead of going home, he changed clothes in a bus station, and went to the birthday party he planned for himself and didn't invite me to. He spent the entire night sending me texts, telling me how much fun he was having with his family, while, in reality, he was out getting trashed with a bunch of people who didn't know I existed... while I stayed up the entire night making the preparations for his birthday the next day. He was so hungover the next day, he wouldn't eat the food I made for him, and he didn't even care that I bought lingerie for him. All he wanted to do was lay in bed and watch TV, nursing his hangover.

I bought him tickets to an Edmonton Oilers game, as well as some cologne, for his birthday.  He broke up with me shortly before Christmas, actually, about a week and a half after his birthday, as he always did... anniversaries, birthdays, Valentine's Day, Christmas... he would break up with me to get out of buying me a gift.  Anyways, the game was set for shortly after Christmas, and we were supposed to go together; I bought one ticket for myself, and one for him.  But, since he broke up with me, he refused to give me my ticket, and he started asking out girls from work to go with him, which I promptly found out about, because we work in the same place.

I was disgusted.  He was using my ticket to try and pick up other girls.

I did the most revenge-y thing I could think of.  I called Ticketmaster and reported the tickets stolen... and then I took my dad to the game, on the same day R's mom took me out for coffee and bought me Christmas gifts.  I'm not even kidding.

I did, at least, tell R that I had reported the tickets stolen.  I called him the morning that I did it.  I had been out the night before with some of the girls from work, some of whom he had asked out to go with him, and one of them had given me the idea to call them in stolen.  When I called R to tell him, he demanded to know everything I had done the night before, everything that I had said to anyone, and when I refused to tell him, he got incredibly angry and started screaming at me through the phone, telling me he was going to kill me, and that he knew how he was going to do it, he knew how to get into my apartment, and that he knew no one would care.

Yes, I did call the police... the only smart thing I did during this relationship.


  1. Yes the first one to comment. :) I read the whole thing actually and you better prepare yourself for an pretty long comment on part two.

  2. This is all too familiar... :( moving on to part two...

  3. Again... this is familiar. Way too familiar. It pains me to know that there are vindictive, misogynistic fuckers out there who identify women and treat them like this.

    Moving on to Pt. 2.


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