I feel so all alone

No one’s gonna fix me when I’m broke

 

In the spring of 2000 at 18 years old, I was kicked out of the house. That’s another blog post and we’re not touching it today. I was forced to move in with my boyfriend’s fantastic family. The boyfriend was amazing. He was kind, smart, respectful, funny and a blast to hang out with. I believed all of these things until I had my first official depressive episode. I was down for the count. I worked at a Sunoco and I’m not really sure how I made it to work day in and day out.

James had been in a car accident the summer before I met him. He was a front passenger. His friend was driving into a sharp turn too fast and they hit a motorcyclist. The man driving the motorcycle flew up over the car, which had a sunroof, and died at the scene. Blood had dripped through the sunroof onto James’ arm. For this emotional trauma, the friend’s car insurance awarded James with a lump sum. So, he had a little bit of money.

James worked at a call center when I was depressed. There, a middle-aged man befriended him. The man wanted to go into a business venture with James. This man, this bad man, was homeless. He spent his nights at the YMCA on the North Side of town. He conned James out of 1, 3, or 5k. I don’t remember the exact amount although I’m leaning toward 5k. James was too naive to see he was being bamboozled.

James was obsessed with this business venture that he knew no details of. So obsessed that he didn’t see what was going on with me, not that I was his responsibility. I started looking other places for love and affection. I felt like I had been thrown out with the trash. (*remember* – I had recently been kicked out)

I broke up with James and I began dating my assistant manager’s son, Kris (from Sunoco). She warned me to stay away from him, but I did not heed her advice. I don’t know exactly what I did to deserve that hell of a relationship. He drank, did drugs, was verbally abusive and was a cheater. All of these things happened in our short run of 6 weeks. He threatened to strangle me in front of my 15-year-old brother.

July 6th of this year…you know, a few days ago, I found out he had passed away from a drug overdose on July 5th, 2015. I thought the timing of my finding out was kind of creepy. I felt such a sense of relief that he was gone and couldn’t abuse anymore women the way he had done to me. And, I don’t feel bad for saying that. You can only imagine the way he treated his mother.

What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. Maybe. Maybe what doesn’t kill us in the first 6 weeks of the relationship will kill us in the second 6 weeks. He was a live wire and to be under the influence was just another thing to be afraid of.

I guess we all have creep ex-boyfriends. I was lucky enough to have two. Tune back in for John’s story at a time to be determined.

1 Comment

  1. What doesn’t kill us, can make us stronger. But the scars it leaves behind can hurt the most.

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