007. oh hay dreamwidth

[monstersinthecosmos]

So I haven't updated in almost a year MY BAD. I had this like internet-identity-renaissance last year where I made a set of new social media profiles with this name and I didn't think Tumblr was going to wind up being as much fun as it is. But I wanna try to be more active in VC fandom on here too LOL so I'll try to log in more and be around!

Anyway. There's no real graceful way to sum up everything that happened the past year since I updated so we're gonna just jump right in and I'm gonna start whining about shit LMAO and we can fill in the blanks as needed.



I did talk about this briefly on Tumblr but I wanted to get into it a little deeper. Here’s a link because I don’t necessarily want to repeat it. TLDR: I visited NY to go to a wedding in September and I saw Perturbator while I was there, and Will showed up on the street after the show and got in my face about how I don’t care if he lives or dies.

SIGH.

So let’s unpack this a bit.


There’s a lot of stuff about him that, when we were dating, I let slide. I like to think that it’s because I am empathetic and was strong enough to want to help him through his mental illness, and not that it was because I was a doormat. It’s really hard to know sometimes and I can’t tell if it’s something I just say so that I don’t have to feel so stupid and guilty for wasting so much of my time on him. But it got so bad at the end and things happened that contextualized it in a way, and then the thing in New York happened and I just. Ugh.

It's weird because I think I was experiencing a disconnect between "his behavior was abusive" and "I was being abused". I didn't feel abused even when I knew he was being a douchebag, and I was able to let a lot of it slide at the time because I loved him and I really wanted to help him get better. I always felt like most of the shitty things he did were a direct result of how bad his depression was (I have also since wondered if he might have BPD, cause looking back I think he fits a lot of the symptoms) and I used to think that if he would get himself into treatment that it would be okay. And just, time after time it never came to fruition, and enough happened that I was finally able to contextualize it as abuse.

And it's still an issue that I don't necessarily have an answer for. Where is the line you draw when someone is mentally ill? How much margin do they have when their behavior gets abusive?

It's also just kind of a touchy subject for me because like, without getting into a side-novel about it, my best friend in high school was bipolar, and we didn't know that at the time, and I still carry a lot of guilt with me that I wasn't more patient with her about it. I don't necessarily blame myself because I know we were kids and I wasn't mature enough to know better, and, again, just like with Will, she was pretty abusive a lot of times. But I just always felt bad for not understanding and letting it slide and it's just been really hard to have to go experience it again with him and like, I tried so hard to get it right this time and I wasted so many years and so much energy trying to fix something that had pieces missing. I was never going to solve it.



So while I was in it, I knew it wasn't great, and I was way unhappier than I wanted to admit (I see it now looking back), but I really was doing my best to do the right thing, and now that I've had distance and had some shit happen to put everything in context I realize how futile the whole thing is and I'm just like, really upset that I wasted so much time on it. It's really embarrassing tbh. Cause he was abusive and I was abused and it really hurts that I put up with it and hoped it would get better and it just, never did. I put a lot of myself into him and it just went nowhere.


When the thing happened in NY I was kinda joking about it earlier in the day that he was going to show up, so really none of it surprised me at all. We had broken up and gotten back together a couple times, and the first time it happened he told me after that he'd deleted my number because the temptation to text me was too much, but he'd been trolling black metal shows hoping to see me.

Which is ???

Creepy? But also sweet? In context at the time I didn't find it weird, and now that he actually did it and I saw the way he behaved I find it a lot more nefarious than I had at the time. So with that in mind, I knew I'd mentioned the Perturbator show on Instagram and I started wondering like, if he was watching me at all online he'd know I was gonna be there and it was in his MO to come try to talk to me.

(Speaking of which, I haven't mentioned this on Tumblr cause I'm not trying to be petty and I also don't want to make anyone uncomfortable, but I have an IP tracker installed and "someone" in his general vicinity visits my blog multiple times a day. What a coincidence. Wow.)



After the thing happened in NY I was... okay. I think. I kept prodding at it to see if I was upset. Between being drunk and being around friends who were supportive and able to laugh it off with me, I wasn't too shook that night when it happened. I was more angry than anything and I was more focused on the fact that someone else in my life actually fucking killed himself today thank u very much i have no time for this bullshit right now. And it was creepy and annoying but I didn't feel unsafe.

I'd deleted our old messages out of my phone a while back as part of my process of letting it go. I used to read over them and try to figure out if I was doing the right thing. It's really hard to know when you're being manipulated. My memories are vivid but I always would wonder if texts are losing too much tone, and wondering if I could've worded something better. But I still have the ones from that night that he sent. I looked over them a handful of times. I remember how it used to feel when he'd gaslight me, and when he'd victimize himself to avoid responsibility for being a terrible person. He'd do something really rude/mean/fucked up/etc and if I called him on it he'd have a meltdown and it would turn into "I'm worthless, you're better off without me, forget I exist!" instead of just, idk, apologizing? Not doing the thing going forward? So I'd be upset but he would steer the conversation into me comforting him. And it just happened so many fucking times. I feel so stupid for allowing it to happen as often as it did.

But rereading these ones from that night, and knowing what I know now, and putting it into context.... it's so pathetic and awkward, and I'm so glad I had friends with me to reassure me that ignoring it was the right thing to do. The last thing you ever said to me was that you'd rather I kill myself than be my friend, he said. Do you have any idea how much that hurt and how incomplete my life has felt without your friendship ?? And now you didn't even notice me. After the 10+ yrs we spent together, it's crushing to know that you don't even care. Haven't seen you in years, haven't spoken to you in months, and all you say is barely a casual "oh hey" like I'm a total stranger.. once again making me feel truly worthless.

I would love to break that down point by point and explain how fucking wrong it all is, even down to the logistics. I haven't even known him for ten years, okay?

And then, a bit later: There's so much I wanted to say to you, how much I miss you in my life for starters. but what's the point.. You clearly don't give a fuck and obviously never did.



I'm removed enough now that I can see it for what it is. There isn't a single genuine word in there. And it's so vicious and creepy, but also so lame to stand there and watch someone flounder. I am done being manipulated, it will not work. I know what you're doing and I'm smarter than this.


To be honest, it's also helped that another friend has a similar situation with her ex and we've been comparing screenshots of manipulative text tantrums, and it's CHILLING that these two men could be twins with how similar their tactics are, but it feels really good to see hers and know, as an outsider, that he's being a manipulative manchild and to be able to then compare to my own. And just being able to commiserate in general has been good, I think. I made memes of her texts and it makes me laugh lol.




That was a long side ramble to my point that when it happened I wasn't upset. And I knew it was possible that I was numb to it and that it would take time to settle in, and I came home to Los Angeles but I immediately had to go apartment hunting, so it was also possible that all my energy was focused on that and I didn't have time to worry about his bullshit. But I moved, and a college friend tried to kill himself a few weeks back, and a few days ago I binge-listened to the S Town podcast and I've started to realize how there's a part of me under the surface that Isn't Okay.


Like, I am. I can function. It doesn't dictate every day of my life. But there's a piece of me inside that is still a complete mess, and she comes out sometimes. And I guess it's okay to let her come out sometimes, because if I ignore her she will never heal. But it was really surprising to realize how vivid all the emotions still are, and how easily I can recall how he used to make me feel when it was at its worst.


I hate the word "trigger" cause I think Tumblr overused it to the point of ruining it, but I suppose you could say that I've developed a trigger, and that I can be triggered by this bullshit. Friend posts a public suicide note on Facebook and I watch the comment thread unfold as everyone begs him not to do it, and asks each other if anyone has called the cops. S Town plays a call where a woman describes having to hear someone's suicide over the phone. And I remember how awful that used to feel, how helpless, and how completely sick I could make myself over it because I never knew if he was serious or not, and how I never knew if it was worth the risk to blow him off instead of letting him manipulate me, because suicide is serious and suicide threats need to be taken seriously. And I realize that I was never the reason he didn't do it. Not in like, a romantic way. Not that I was worth it or something cause clearly I wasn't, or it didn't matter because he wasn't serious anyway--but that I'd be on the phone with him, or texting him furiously, crying and begging, and nothing I said made a fucking bit of difference. If he didn't go through with it was because it didn't work, or the one time he caved and called himself an ambulance. It wasn't something I said.

I mean, I don't know if these stories are even true. I look back and I never know what was real. It could've been lies to make me feel bad after.

But I'm realizing now that it fucking wrecks me when this shit comes up again. I don't know if it's even relevant to what's going on--with college friend, someone called an ambulance, his friends were updating in the thread that he was okay, he'd be fine, and by the time I read all of this it was over and he was safe and there was nothing I could've done. But reading that made me remember how it felt to be there and I'm not exaggerating when I say it ruined the rest of my day.


Intellectually I know all the bullet points to hit. I know what to tell myself and know that it wasn't my fault. But burying it doesn't help to exorcise it, and I suppose, like I said, I have to let her out now and then so that we can try to heal.





The last year I've had so much anxiety about my living situation, and my roommates were making my life really fucking miserable. I finally found a new place and it's my first time in my life that I'm living alone.

It's nice.

I'm still trying to balance myself the best I can, and be proactive against episodes that I know are constantly threatening on the horizon. I know that a change of scenery is never going to be a cure and that I still carry all my own bullshit. But it's felt really nice and a lot of the anxiety I was experiencing in relation to my roommates has dissipated completely and I feel really good about it.

So I don't know, maybe I operate at a base level of dysfunction at all times. Maybe I thought I was over him and it was only because I had other things to worry about. Maybe him showing up and getting in my face just uncovered all of it. I'm not sure. But I get home and it's peaceful and quiet and I can get work done and I don't have to feel suffocated with social anxiety from living with people, and instead I just have periodic hysterical meltdowns because I keep reliving how traumatic it was to be in a relationship with someone who used to threaten me with suicide as a means to get his way.


Or it could be a bad timing. Will didn't know that a friend actually killed himself that night. College friend and I haven't seen each other in forever and it's not like he did that on purpose to mangle my life--it's a coincidence. Listening to S Town was my own choice and I'm a total masochist and even when it became heavily about suicide I decided to keep listening to it. And I don't even regret it, it was cathartic. But it was hard.

None of this was hard for me before.




So. ANYWHOO. Welcome back to Dreamwidth, I guess. I am emotionally maimed but I'm doing my best.