Real Actual Meltdown

I’ve not posted and I apologize. I know I mentioned before that I don’t usually do the whole blogging thing, so it’s hard enough getting into the habit of writing on here, but also I had a legitimate meltdown. Like I know I joke that I was having a meltdown, but I had a real honest to god meltdown.

Let me set the scene. My anxiety has already been at an all-time high since I quit smoking last July (in one week it’ll be my seven month anniversary!!). Add on top of that the stress of senior undergraduate courses, leaving my job, and dealing with my mom’s asshat boyfriend.

And that latter thing is what finally pushed me over the edge. In my absolute defense, I’ve dealt with seven years of emotional and verbal abuse out of the prick and the quickest way to push my temper over the edge is talking down to one of my family members.

Well, he did. My best friend was coming up to stay the night on a Thursday and Mom and I told him we were going to clean out the guest room so there would be somewhere for my friend to sleep (since his junk was piled so high in the guest room it seriously looked like a dump).  Cue him flipping out because he didn’t want us breaking his stuff and also just-exactly-how-long-will-her-friend-be-here because it was his mattress in the guest room and he didn’t want someone sleeping on his mattress when his grandsons were supposed to come over on Saturday and where would they sleep?

Seriously. This is how fucking ridiculous he is.

Mom had enough and told him she wanted him to get his stuff and get out. So she and I went to dinner while he got his stuff, took our time so we wouldn’t run into him at home and when we got home…he was sitting in the recliner watching basketball. Mom instantly sent me back to my room because she knew there had been some serious pressure mounting between the two of us. So there I was…25 years old and sent to my bedroom.

Well, my bedroom doorway I should say. He couldn’t see me from my door but Mom could and she kept shooting me warning glances to close my door.

Sorry. Not gonna happen.

“I want you out of my house,” she said.

“I don’t care,” he replied.

I could feel my blood boiling from the doorway of my bedroom. Mom knew and shot me another warning look. I managed to stay still until I heard his cocky voice say to my mother, “You need to quit running that mouth.”

I honestly swear I had no control over my feet. Buddy, I flew out there. It got nasty. There was lots of name calling being tossed around, which led to him being in my face, which led to me…sort of…pushing him. And possibly punching him in the face.

He punched back. Then it was all over the place. He grabbed me and tried to throw me through the sliding glass door. We were all over each other and my mother just sat and watched, occasionally yelling for us to stop but otherwise not getting close to us.

At one point he punched the side of my head and my glasses went flying. I held my hands up behind me and said to stop while I tried to kick them out of the way. That may seem silly, but I’ve got horrible eyesight and when you only know where one pair of glasses is and they’re on the ground about to be stomped to pieces, you’d be quick to stop, too.

While I was distracted he punched me in the mouth, tackled me to the ground, and had my fingers bent back so far I remember thinking he was going to break them. I don’t mention that to try and sway the argument in my favor – like, I completely own that I was the first person to push him and accept all subsequent violence from him following that – but merely I mention it because that’s how the fight ended. After some nasty words spat in my face, he stood up, went to the bedroom, grabbed some clothes and was gone (after stopping at my bedroom door and trying to hug me because he knew he’d fucked up).

That was mid-January. Mom said she didn’t know what she was going to do without him and completely turned it around on me. Even called all her friends and told them the story of how I flipped out and started a fight with him, but has conveniently left out that she was trying to kick him out and he was being an ass about it in the first place.

The two weeks following the fight were, quite possibly, the worst of my life. My anxiety had already been high enough and that was just what it needed to push me over the edge. Just in the first week following, I dropped 10 lbs. I was extremely depressed, disappointed that I’d let him get the best of me and feeling a sense of betrayal that my mom would make me look worse in order to make herself look better because she is still seeing him.

I ended up going to the doctor who did not necessarily diagnose me, but believes in my self-diagnosis of High Functioning Anxiety Disorder, which is just a fancy way of saying I have horrible anxiety all the time, but I’m really good at hiding it. Usually by the time people notice something is wrong, it’s really wrong. So he put me on 10mg/day of Celexa (well, the generic) and I go for my month check-up this coming Friday. Depending on how he thinks I’m doing, he might adjust it to a higher dose or keep it steady, but I will say I have felt a lot better just knowing it is in my system.

As I mentioned, Mom is still seeing asshat and part of me is having a hard time forgiving her for that. I hate to say that because she’s my mom, but like, you know, I could have gotten arrested trying to get him out of the house for her, have cried and begged her several times since not to get back with him, and yet I’ve just been blown off for dinner plans again so she can go meet him.

So, where does that leave me? Medicated, for one, but in life I’m kind of at the end of this chapter, I think. I have been seeing Mr. Beetle, who is still quite adamant that his marriage is ending and honestly I haven’t had the courage to bring it up to him or press the issue further. The end of April is the deadline I set for myself. If he hasn’t done anything by then, I’ll confront him about it. God, I dread it already, I hope he hurries up. Part of me feels bad for seeing him, but it’s just dinner once or twice a week and on the understanding that he is estranged from his wife. It’s a very thin line to walk – I want to give him the benefit of the doubt because my parents were separated for four years and dating other people while they were married, but also I know how people can be and don’t want to be made a fool.

Needless to say, that’s all a mess. Currently looking to relocate to Columbus because, honestly, I don’t want to damage my relationship with my mother any worse than it is already. A few nights after the fight I ended up having to talk to a crisis line because I thought I might actually hurt myself. They recommended I leave the situation if Mom stayed with him because he had obviously been causing me great mental anguish for a long time and I wasn’t going to heal if he was still in my life in any capacity. I told Mom as much in a letter I taped to her door (sadly it had gotten so bad that I had to write in all caps at the top of the letter that it wasn’t a suicide note). I told her that she would always be my mother no matter what, but that I would have to distance myself from her if she continued seeing David. And she did.

Like, I feel ridiculous because I’m 25 and certainly not a child, but that is actual betrayal. It hurts, bad. It seems dramatic to say it this way, but she chose a man over her kid. And I know I’m not alone in thinking that way – I’ve been somewhat estranged from both of my older sisters for the past few months and even both of them are on my side. My oldest sister doesn’t have anything to do with Mom’s boyfriend and hasn’t for a long time – her sons, my nephews, have refused to even come up to our house for close to two years because they hate him so much. So she knows firsthand.

I don’t know. I have a career meeting on the phone here in about 20 minutes from my college about work placement, so hopefully they’ll get me on the right track. I looked at apartments last week in the Columbus area, just to get an idea of price range. Basically I’ll need $15/hr fulltime or $2000 a month-ish to be able to swing living alone. I’m hoping graduating in May with my BA will help me.

2017 has already proven itself to be a year of great change. Here’s to hoping it starts changing for the better.

Dee

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