I do hate you, but I know it’s not your fault, which makes this just that much more difficult on me. No one around seems to understand what’s happening, no one gets why I’m so distressed. Mental illness is not a joke, and it should not be taken lightly. I fell in love with you knowing what I was getting myself in.
We’ll start with the background stories. Five years ago is when I met honestly the love of my life. I was 17 not only fresh out of high school, but also out of a nasty relationship, that I got cheated on in. I come from a broken family, so at that time getting cheated on took a gigantic toll on me, I had trust issues to begin with, but I was never the type to lose hope, I was never the type to accept defeat. But bouncing back from my break up seemed impossible; being able to love at this point seemed impossible. Then I met him (identity purposes). We both worked part time at McDonald’s, meeting him the first time, I instantly knew there was something about him, he wasn’t the type of guy I’d go for, but I was attracted to him insanely, I was the pretty girl, and he was the nerdy boy back then that was still going through puberty. He was also two years younger than me. October is when he got hired; I’d been there a bit longer. About two months after, him and me instantly clicked. We were inseparable, best friends, nothing more but best friends, but I always knew we’d date, I just needed some time to get over my ex, didn’t want to rush to anything. 1 year and couple months later of being literally, the greatest of friends, and basically acting like a couple, he decided he wanted more, so he started asking me to hang out after work and our love story began. I knew he wasn’t completely there, he was a very insecure, and jealous and I saw that when me and him were just friends, he would get upset over me going out, or at me when I talked to other boys. Despite all the signs he gave me of him being bipolar, or depressed, I stuck by, and loved him unconditionally.
Once we started dating, things got very different. He himself has never had life easy, raised by a single mother, with two other brothers; he began working at the age of 12, getting paid under the table to help his mom. His mom was not completely sane either, neither was his older brother, so I understood where it came from. The real him came out four months from when we started dating, it was no longer the cute dates, literally spending until four am out by the baseball field under the stars, there was no more late night talks. It was just constant fighting, him constantly belittling me. It was no longer asking me to not go out with friends and family it was telling me I couldn’t, because if I did he wouldn’t be here and I loved him and would’ve done the world for him, it was no longer just being jealous when other boys talked to me, it was embarrassing, at work I had everyone come up and ask why I let him treat me the way he did, it was no longer behind the scenes it was all out front. Boyfriends get jealous, but his jealous was crazy jealous, his insecurities were insane.
Now a year in the relationship, we were both insane, its like I was on some sort of roller-coaster. He’s never been diagnosed with anything, because he refuses to go to doctors, but coming from a messed up family, I knew what bipolar looked like in a person, having gone through depression; I knew what it looked like. He would have his high days, his good days, where he would acknowledge everything I’ve done for him, he would respect me, tell me how madly in love he was with me. We would go out, we would enjoy ourselves, he was normal, he was laughing, and he would smile and be my goofball. But it would all come down crashing if I said something as little as I would be going out with my friends next week. His bad days were ridiculously bad, sometimes he would just wake up in the mood, sometimes it would be triggered, and he would not be himself at all. He would be cold, grumpy, and very disrespectful. The worst of it all was he would not communicate with me, he would push me away, and he would push in a way no one would come back. He would constantly tell me he didn’t love me, he would tell me I was not enough, or I had nothing to offer. He would use my weaknesses to feel better about himself. But I knew deep down he was just having one of those insecure days, because of his past. He needed constant reassurance that I loved him, and I wouldn’t hurt him like everything else in his life has. When he would bounce out of those moods, he would realize the shit he said and did and then would apologize and ask why I still stuck around with a boy like him. It was a constant cycle, happening over and over again. Before we knew it we were four years deep and that’s when I started noticing, nothing was going change with him. It started taking a toll on me, making me feel like I actually wasn’t enough. Because I bent so many ways for him, to literally not get an ounce of care or love at this point back. four years in he was just as jealous, still believed I didn’t love him, and the fighting didn’t stop.
We talked about him going to the doctors but he never went, no matter how much I told him it was taking a toll on his day-to-day activities. So when do you draw the line? For me personally I feel like I waited to long to cut loose. Although my love for him was pure and honest, I should’ve left when he started making me feel like I was not enough. All his life he was given not an ounce of love or support, that what I was giving to him was new. He learned how to fend for himself; he learnt that no one would treat him right. I made it my personal battle to help him, I made it my very mission to help him I forgot what I deserved. I gave the love of my life endless amount of chances, I let him mistreat me, belittle me for four years, to receive nothing in return other then empty promises.
So when I finally gave him his final warning, he obviously failed, I broke up with him, not because I don’t love him, but because he needs to feel my loss. So I give my all to this man, to in return when I break up with him, have him tell the world I was the crazy bitch that toyed with his emotions. Now that I put myself first he claims I’m the reason he was sick and at this point I’m okay with being that person, if it helps him make this process easier. All my actions were reactions to him. So don’t do what I did, don’t stick around four years hoping that you’ll be worth it in his eyes, and that he’ll change for you. Don’t excuse him because he’s sick. If he doesn’t want to help himself, nothing you do will ever be enough. Just know you tried and you putting your own health before him is not giving up. If you refuse to take care of yourself, no one else will care either.
I wish we could start over again, but I know it’s not possible. I hope you the best, I hope you peace, and honestly babe know you will be forever chained to this monster inside of you, as long as you keep telling yourself nothings wrong. It’s important to remember that just because someone insists on dragging his own life to the bottom of the ocean, doesn’t mean that you have to let them drag you there too. Being with someone mentally ill I do say “insists”. I say insists because as a 22-year-old adult he had responsibilities, he had choices that he made. For sure I know some of the choices were deluded to his illness, but he still had choices, to either accept the problem and find himself help, or to consistently live the lie. He had the choice to abuse me or not, he had the choice to set me free when I attempted to leave all those times knowing his promises were going to be empty. There is nothing I won’t do to help him get better, but there is nothing I will do to help him remain ill. I wont live the vicious cycle, the madness we’ve been in for four years. I have to choose my own sanity over your destruction.