To Joey: I ended things with you without really telling you why and just quit replying, but that is because I did not know. I thought I was the bad person you told me I was. I know now, I have found the soul and heart I lost, and I feel as though I owe this closure to both myself and to you. I hope you can learn to grow from this toxicity in the same way I did.
I truthfully escaped something terrifying in March of 2016
Admittedly, I was on a pretty narrow downward spiral
I developed a really unhealthy relationship with alcohol in late 2014/early 2015 When I started dating my now ex. I was being stalked by the guy I saw before him and had been heavily manipulated. I felt like this new guy would save me, I guess. But, please do not misinterpret this. My current boyfriend did not save me. I saved myself, learned to love myself, and quit having relationships with anyone before I met him. You were the last person I was with before him, and I truthfully can say he is the only person I want to lay beside for the rest of my life.
I didnât really understand what they both did to me until now (Literally, now, like October 4 2018 after going through all the messages/voice mails I saved of you screaming at me and abusing me from 2015 until we broke up)
I truthfully never handled it, I compartmentalized it under
loads and loads of alcohol (Not other guys, like you seem to think) because I felt like I was being protected. You were the last person I was with until August of last year. Trust me, it was just the alcohol. A lot of it.
I was so gone at that point, it is hard for me to reflect on even now with the healthy wonderful place I am in, but I know I need to take these skeletons out of my closet one last time and leave them out of my psyche entirely. No more compartmentalizing: This is the last time I will ever think about this horror again once and for all.
I can say by December 2015, after a whole year of being away from that person, I was completely addicted to alcohol. Joey and I would finish a half gallon of Jack Daniels in his room without doing anything, without ever leaving the house,
Within two days. We would drink over half of it the first night, and the next he would get a fifth just to be sure we didnât run out. He would drink in the mornings after his classes, stop at the bar for a âquick drinkâ before seeing me, drink to black out at the bar and come home and continue around me.
I learned to black out before he got home from the bar because of the way he would yell when he came home. I was 18 years old, and didnât really know much else.
There was a time before that I would not black out, he would come home and yell at me. He would threaten me, too. I can truthfully say in retrospection I NEVER drank that way until I met him. I NEVER smoked that way until I met him. But when we both blacked out, we fought less the next morning.
He would tell me I was âso luckyâ he didnât snap,
That I should be happy he never hit me or did the things I endured before him.
That all his friends didnât like me, and that people around him would âcomment on [my] drinkingâ but not on his. I look back at this now and know he found me because he saw someone vulnerable, someone who would let him do as he pleased. Someone who would apologize when he was wrong, and not call him out on his hypocrisy because I was afraid. He never loved me, and vice versa.
He locked me out of my Apple ID twice. I never woke up to him not going through my phone. I would tell him where I was going,
He would black out and call me a liar, tell me I was cheating on him
Tell me to go fuck my best friends, like I was interested in them at all.
Tell me I never told him where I was going, like I was required to, and heâd use it as a reason to drink or punish me in other ways, like telling me if I walked through six hoops only then would he take the dog for a walk with me, go on a hike in the woods, or spend time with my friends and family away from alcohol.
He would tell me if I didnât drive the 45 minutes to his apartment or pick him up from the bar when he blacked out,
We were done. He would ruin my life, tell everyone what he protected me from.
So I did it. When he blacked out at the bar so bad he nearly peed himself in the passenger seat of my car, I carried him to bed. It took 2 hours and I had bruises everywhere the next day from a 250 pound man falling on top of me and him fighting me off (He only got so drunk because I had gone to a concert without him so I would have to come back to him instead of spending the night at a friendâs. He told me it was âbecause of meâ to guilt me into getting him.) When he drank too much to do his homework or pass his classes, I did it for him. When he drank half a case in less than two hours, I stayed up until I left for my clinical at 5:30 in the morning to make sure I flipped him over when he got to his back. He threw up the whole night and started drinking again the next afternoon. When he told me I couldnât be trusted and that I was cheating on him by spending time with my female and male friends, I believed him. I truly felt like that was cheating. I ended my relationships with Skylar, Lauren, Dani, everyone who âflirted with meâ or âhung out with dudes too muchâ. When he told me I was the reason he didnât want to leave the house or do anything other than drink, I let him blame me. I went to therapy and cried to Dr. Brand. When he told me she was wrong, I believed him too for a time. When I told him he abused me and that I was done seeing him, he knocked me to the ground and laid on the roof of my car so I couldnât leave. After I got away a few miles down the road, he called me to tell me he was going to kill himself. I went back even with the cut on my forehead from hitting my head off the ground. He, to this day, will tell you he never did that because he blacked out, even though I have photos of my face. I truthfully really believed that I was the worst thing that ever happened to the world. I thought when he abused me or hurt me, I was making it up in my head. When he got mad I would passionately discuss things because he didnât have the same opinions, I literally stopped having those opinions. When I wanted to go on a beach vacation with him, he told me we had to go to Canada so I could drink and go to the casino, so we went. He told me I could not transfer schools because I was unhappy with nursing and Duquesne didnât offer the new major I wanted, not that he ever asked why I wanted to switchâhe TOLD ME it was because I wanted to drink and party. When he told me his narrow-minded, racist way of thinking was right, I stopped arguing with him and agreed. I stopped speaking my mind, going for walks around my neighborhood, painting and doing crafts. I stopped going home. I stopped doing activities I used to LOVE that didnât involve alcohol. It took me until around January of 2018 to completely quit binge drinking and to surround myself with people who enjoyed non-drinking activities, like volleyball, painting, hiking, camping, crafting, dancing, etc. Oh, and in case youâre wondering, I now enjoy going to the movies, tooâsince it isnât someoneâs ONLY ACTIVITY THEY ARE WILLING TO DO WITH ME OTHER THAN CONSUME ALCOHOL.
The scariest part is what I told Dr. Brand. When I went back to therapy for the first time since I stopped after what originally happened in 2014, I cried and told her how terrible I was. I cried and told her how awful my opinions were, that I was wrong for thinking the liberal and happy way I did. I told her how I had lost all joy from doing things that I didnât have to for people, that I was the worst partner in the world, that I couldnât stop him no matter what I said or did to make him comfortable from thinking he was cheating on me. I told her nothing I could do was good enough for anyone. I told her how I no longer could go to an outing with his friends without drinking, because I was afraid hearing the stuff heâd say to me sober. I told her how much easier it was to hear things bad about myself when I was drunk, and how we never ended a night sober. How we never stopped drinking until we passed out. How he would throw things at me and I would lock myself in his bathroom until he fell asleep. I told her how if I wanted to go out with or without him, he would make me change clothes first literally no matter what I was wearing, just to have control. He would interrogate me about exactly how many guys would be there, and if I posted pictures that there were more, he would demand I came back to his apartment because I had to be cheating. But I justified it. I told her no one else would ever be with me because all I wanted to do was leave and be with my friends instead of being with him.
She told me something very, very powerful after hearing all this for a few sessions.
She told me if I learned to love myself, I would realize that I never loved him to begin with. That not even I would love the person I was around him anymore, if I could just see: I was no longer myself. He had metaphorically âbeat it out of meâ. She said those words. I sobbed and we ended the session because I could not speak. I knew she was right, and I was done. That was it. It was over. He no longer held me that way.
After that meeting I had an emotional breakdown and couldnât drive home, my mom had to come. I think Dr. Brand knew this, which is why she waited so long to drop the truth on me. We sat in the parking lot of what used to be Wendyâs on Route 8 for two hours. She told me stories about the fun loving, caring, empathetic girl I used to be. She told me about the blacked out conversations sheâd had with me on the phone at 3 AM when I would lock myself in the living room bathroom of his apartment and sob. I told her how afraid I was to be alone. I finally said it. I had never been alone before. After Gavin was Cody, and after Cody was Joey. I had experienced something so terrifying and traumatizing I would accept any love, no matter how abusive and unhealthy. I decided I would be alone until I loved myself again. Alex had just passed away, and I promised her to learn to love myself so I would never feel like I had to tell a significant other they make me feel like I want to kill myself ever again. I ended things with him, and refused to listen to the voicemails he left me: Threatening me, sobbing, telling me âno one will ever love you like I didâ. I listened to them all for the first time today.
I let that slip once I got to Arizona because I felt âfinally freeâ. Like I had never been allowed to ever do what I wanted when I wanted. I drank in excess my first semester, a lot. I only talked to Joey when I blacked out, which was usual. I know I strung him along for a bit and I know that was a fault. But to be fair, Iâd wake up not realizing I had even texted him. I was still scared to be alone, and I didnât feel it til I got to Arizona. But the more I stayed away, the more friends I made, the more months that went by, I started to love myself. I really, truly did. There were breaks between the drinking. I found friends who had the same hobbiesâwe would go on hikes, paint, go to concerts, go bowling, go to art classes and play games in each others company without drinking. I actually now do not even enjoy drinking, and avoid it entirely. But, I realize now, I never really learned how to drink (Why I do not enjoy drinking). Once I get past five drinks, even now, I cannot stop. I do not stop until I black out. I go into a dissociative state and literally leave my body. If there is alcohol around, I will drink it and not stop until I get alcohol poisoning or literally cannot lift the cup to my face.
This is an open letter to the person who taught me to leave my body, my conscious, my thoughts. This is an open letter to the person who taught me to forget everything about myself to suit him better. This is to the person who disconnected me from literally every single person who loved me and every single passion I had. This is an open letter to the guy who tried to throw hands at me blacked out in a bar last summer. This is an open letter to the guy who was so drunk he attacked me for cheating on him even though we hadnât spoken in over a year, could not walk and tried to drive a car. This is an open letter to the guy I know is still a danger to himself and others. This is an open letter to the guy I know continues to drink to excess, black outâtrust me, I see the images you drunkenly post and delete in the morning, you are not inside the body who has taken them. You can see it in the way your eyes look straight through the camera, like mine used to.
This is an open letter to the guy who looks so unhealthy, who openly still blamed me in a bar, blacked out, for the way he blacks out (Before getting forcibly removed). I want you to know that I have recovered. I am the person I am supposed to be, I was. I havenât consumed more than 4 alcoholic beverages in one sitting since May. Instead of going to some SB destination to black out, like you clearly still do at 25 years old, I went to Sedona to camp and hike with someone who enjoys the same things I have always enjoyed. My loving, caring, gentle and kind boyfriend who has never once accused me of cheating on him. Who spends time with my friends, who love him. Who agrees with me on important moral issues and doesnât fight with me when we disagree. Who teaches me more about the world, what is right and wrong, and doesnât really drink at all. Who I never want to be apart from.
I just want you to know, this is the person I always was. I have recovered. I am back. I am confident, I can express my emotions, and resolve conflicts without being told I am a cunt or telling the other person to go fuck themselves. I can be told someone disagrees with me and not be angry. I am in a healthy relationship with someone who sees me as an equal, supports me in school, and wants me to be healthy. I have regained a healthy relationship with substances, and am no longer running from my consciousness by blacking out.
I love myself again the way I did in 2013. I am that innocent, beautiful, fun-loving girl again. I am passionate about what I believe and want to help everyone who looks my way, and it brings me joy again. I look in the mirror and love the way I look, I no longer put paint all over my face to feel beautiful or worthy of someoneâs love. I no longer binge eat or binge drink. I eat so healthy, feel so healthy, and have gone from 155 lbs when we broke up to 125 since I now am not too hungover constantly to do yoga or walk to school.
I learned that you turned me into a monster, and that you were right: No one would ever love that monster the way you did. Because, Joey, you created that monster. You turned me into someone that could only love you (You even stripped me of my ability to love myself) and could only be loved by you. Thatâs why it was so hard for me to fully quit communication with you even after we broke up, and I think you knew what you were doing to me. I think you did that on purpose, so I wouldnât leave you. That was never me, it was a direct reflection of the person you were. I donât know if you are still that person, but after interacting with you last summer, I have a feeling you are. Iâm so lucky I realized who I was becoming before I got lost in it. Iâm healthy and happy and full of life again. This is an open letter to you, hoping youâve recovered from your substance abuse. This is an open letter to you to say now that I am healthy and can think clearly about who I was and who Iâve become, Iâve realized I did not become anyone: Rather, I returned to who I was. I am no longer a reflection of you. I want you to know that the sad girl who âonly wanted to drink and partyâ was just you.
After I left you in the past, those things left me, too. I hope some day you can strip yourself of those demons as well. But, I write this so you hopefully you can start looking deep into yourself for the person you were before alcohol, before gambling, before I knew you. I want you to know you did not become the person you are now while we were together. You became that person before we were together, the insecurities you feel are not caused by me, and I did not do anything to harm you. I NEVER CHEATED ON YOU, I never spoke to Cody while we were together and you know that, but treated me like I did. The âmeâ you know is NOT MEâyou never knew meâyou curated me. I am so lucky to have escaped that.
I hope that this helps you realize what you truly were to me, a monster. Just like I realized I had become your monster.
blakekathryn
kaledo-art
romaincrisis
snowghoul
prguitarman
pixelskylines
titsay
