May.

May was a really tough month. D was still gone and I was trying to finish up school while also trying to save the relationship. He became completely withdrawn and seemed like he really wanted nothing to do with me. On top of that I was looking for a new place for both of us to live (our lease in Brooklyn was up June 1 and D informed me that he changed his mind about our cross-country trip and didn't want to go). My uncle passed away as well, and instead of going to the funeral with me he went on a 3 day camping trip. When it came time for me to leave the apartment at the end of the month he jumped on a plane to Vegas to then drive back to the East coast with his buddy who was moving back. This fell on the exact week that I wanted to leave for our trip originally. So I was pretty much beyond offended and hurt. I ended up staying in the apartment through June, as my roommate decided to renew the lease.

I realize that is blog is basically turning into me constantly venting about my boyfriend and I'm not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing. I suppose good in a way that this is an outlet for me but possibly boring and annoying for people to repeatedly read about.

Notepad document titled "why you suck" from May 24, 2009

ugh i need to get this shit off my chest before it bursts out of me. i am so fed up d. i'm so hurt, disappointed, angry... you name it. it's like everyday you disgust me a little more. the shit you've done just festers and grows, eating away at my insides like my very own cancer.

- the fact that you promised to help me around here, go to my uncle's funeral, fix the toliet, etc. and then you didn't enrages me. your excuses "oh well, i lied" and "i don't want to" are UNACCEPTABLE. the fact that you carelessly blow things like this off (as well as not going to dr. appts, not getting your medicine) shows how immature you are and it's a gigantic let down.

- the fact that you still use drugs, especially at times when i need you the most shows how little you care about me and how deeply you really need to get help. you do not have life coping skills and the fact that each time you use it gets twisted around on me is just fucking hateful and vicious. you have no concern for anyone else but yourself. the entire time you have been in jersey "recovering" has just been one big beer fest for you and it has accomplished nothing.

- the fact that you treat me like i am INVISIBLE is probably what hurts the most. you have no consideration for my feelings anymore, only yours matter. if i am upset, angry, sad, you offer no comfort and just say and do things to make me feel worse. i guess i am not allowed to feel in this relationship anymore since apparently you don't.

- i cannot take anymore lies or broken promises. the fact that most stuff that comes out of your mouth is bullshit. you're a poor excuse for a caring adult. you ARE useless. the only things you can ever accomplish are getitng drunk, high and hanging out with your friends.

- i wish i could just wash my hands of you and erase you from my life. you think i'm always so full of anger and spite? that's because you have completely ruined any faith i ever had in people. i trusted you with all heart and always tried to show you the utmost care and compassion you would expect from a fiance and you took my heart and shattered it over and over again with your malicious ways. you have put me down, abused me, stolen from me, repeatedly lied to me and have been a sorry excuse for any kind of partner. not only that but you have lied and stolen from my friends, your friends and your family. do you realize how many people have zero respect for you?

the person that i once knew you to be is almost completely gone. you have your moments where i think maybe he's still in there, but for the most part you're just a hologram of the person i thought i knew. if i ever have to look into your pinned drugged up eyes again i swear to god i'm going to gouge them out.

if i were in your position and i treated my girlfriend, friends, family the way you do, i'd imagine i'd have pretty low self-esteem and probably just consider myself one sorry sack of shit. but you're just so fucking into yourself, have all this pride... it's disturbing. you have no remorse or consideration for basically anything.

i can't imagine dealing with this for another year, let alone the rest of my life. i can honestly say that i would rather be dead. you have ruined the experience of living the city for me, and sadly i let myself sink down to your level, becoming preoccupied with your stupid bullshit.

not to mention all i fucking wanted was to drive cross country this summer... something you refused to do, even thought you knew how badly i wanted it... and now you're doing it with f! unbelievable.

May 30, 2009

people aren't perfect. everyone has good and bad that lives inside of them. maybe some people just have more of one than the other. but no one is just "perfect." if you attempt to spend your life looking for flawless love, the search is futile. it's a quest that will never end and your days spent seeking this non-existant myth are in vain.

but then you have to decide how much bad in a person you are willing to take.

let's face it... right now, i'm single. d does not help me with anything. he broke my heart in two with the things he did to me and then he left leaving me to clean up the mess. this weekend we are supposed to move and he is driving across the country hanging with his buddy, going to a concert. last weekend instead of being there for me when my uncle died and helping me fix the things around the apt he promised to, he went camping and kayaking, getting completely drunk and "jokingly" asking a 17 year old girl to marry him. the whole time he has spent "recovering" in jersey, he's been having the time of his life getting drunk with his buddies, partying and playing music, not giving me or the life we had here a second thought. when i needed him the most a few weeks back he shows up on drugs again. last week when he was here and using he blamed me although of course it wasn't my fault. that's a shit ton of "bad" and not a lot of "good" to handle. he's not my partner. he has no sense of loyalty or responsibility. he does not behave like an adult or like someone who has any love or concern for me. when i try to explain these things to him in hopes he will "get it" he gets angry. hangs up. calls me a bitch. makes me cry. i just want to shake him and scream "do you see what the fuck you're doing?! do you get it?!"

it's hard to believe that he is the same person he was three years ago. working everyday, helping me with anything i needed. just loving me. loving me so much. why the fuck did this happen?

------

There's several more notes I made but they all pretty much say the same thing. I was NOT happy.

It Never Ends.

Originally posted on May 5, 2009 on The Junkies' Wives Club

I am so frustrated and depressed right now I just want to rip my hair out and smash everything around me.
A little over a month ago my bf moved out, leaving for New Jersey to stay with his mom. It was hard to see him go but I was relieved to be rid of the drama. After he was in NJ for about a week he moved in with an old friend (kind of like his Godmother) who had an extra room. I visited him twice and he came here once to see me. While he had gotten off the heroin, he was still smoking pot and drinking. I wasn't thrilled about it, but it was nice to see his nice big pupils for once and he seemed to be doing much better in that respect. He treated me great, no arguments or the usual chaotic shit that surrounds him.

A few days ago I had a personal problem (rather not go into detail) which was very upsetting and traumatic for me. More than anything I just needed him to be here and really wanted his support and compassion. He was originally going to come home this Wednesday so we could head to Long Island to look at some potential houses (we're planning on relocating in June). He told me he would come out a day early to be here for me.

The minute he walked in the door I could see that he was high. I couldn't believe it. After kicking for a month he goes and does this again, at a time when I needed him more than ever. He's been a complete asshole the entire night and I wish he never came. I tried to sit down with him and pour out my feelings and he got up and left, saying he doesn't give a shit. I'm astonished at his lack of concern and the way that he doesn't give a shit whatsoever. It hurts more than anyone could imagine and I'm reeling inside from the pain.

Why do I let my hopes up just to be crushed time and time again? Wtf is wrong with me? I HATE this. I finally thought this time the fog was clearing and I could see the light. I'm so disgusted with him and myself for believing in him. Ugh!!!!!!

April Fool.

On April 1, 2009 (our 3 year engagement anniversary), D moved out. He went to stay with his mother in New Jersey both to detox/recover and to handle his other medical issues. About a week after he was there he decided to rent a room from a family friend (kind of like a Godmother) because she had more space and also because she's a musician too and had a lot of instruments he could mess with there.

As happy as I was to finally have some peace in my apartment, I really truly missed him and felt incredibly alone. It was like he took this huge chunk of me with him and never even looked back. He left me in the dust.

April 6, 2009


it seems that during the course of your love affair with heroin, you left me for her.
i sit in this room, feeling so alone. everything is just empty. my bed, my heart. you took most of me with you when you left and i'm struggling to make what remains be able to function. it feels like trying to walk a mile with no feet.
i think about you, your disinterested attitude and cold responses. lack of anything. where did it all go? down down down and away, filled in by needle in your arm, opiates in your brain. rain drips on my window and somehow it's on my face too. your shirt crumpled on the floor, socks in a disarray on the dresser. where did you go?
my stomach is in knots. i just want to kiss you face, smell your hair. lace my fingers through your long ones. feel again.

it's not about me.

Not My Responsibility.

Originally posted on March 30, 2009 on the Junkies' Wives Club

As some of you may know, my bf has had a continuous hard time staying clean and it basically just wears me out at this point. That's why I come here, for the support, reassurance and suggestions.

My bf went to a detox center on Friday night and we waited two hours only to have him turned away because the beds were full. Being that he doesn't have medical insurance (we're waiting on a Medicaid appeal so he can start treating his recurrence of thyroid cancer) it's hard to find a facility that will take someone in his position. We were told to return the next morning and check back, as many patients just find a place to "sleep it off" and then leave. By the next morning he was already sick (too sick to make it there in his words) and has spent the last 2 days vomiting into a bucket. While I do feel bad seeing him like that, my sympathy is strained. He's done this dopesick dance so many times now, you figure he would get it. Wrong.

Today, Monday, we were supposed to go to Long Island so he could have a consultation with a surgeon regarding his cancer treatment. He was still too ill to go. His mother just called my cell phone wondering how his appointment went and why he wouldn't answer his phone. I currently have his cell phone and it's shut off. The phone is in my name and since he has not been contributing towards paying the bills I figured he didn't need it. It is not my job to pay for my phone plus his own. That was not the deal. His mother was not happy about this, as she wants to be able to contact him when she deems necessary. In the past when I have taken his phone when I did not receive any money from him she would call me and lecture me about how I am preventing her from speaking to her son and would demand to speak with him, or text message me things like " I want him to call me NOW. NO EXCUSES".
I then told her that my bf did not make it to his appointment because he is still sick. She asked me why he did not go to detox this weekend. I told her that he said he was too ill. She asked me "Well, did you TRY to make him go?? Did you attempt to get him there?" She said the same about the missed appointment today, "Why didn't you get him there?!" Then, "you need to reschedule that ASAP. OK?" Her tone was rude and condescending. Not knowing how to respond I just yessed her to death and kept the conversation very brief. What I really wanted to say is "WHY IS THIS MY JOB?! I have school and my own responsibilities! I made the appointment, I arranged a ride for him, I do EVERYTHING! And now it's my fault that he refused to go!?"

How can I respond to her in a way that shows that yes, I DO care about her son, but I cannot run his life for him?

Last Time.

March 27, 2009

walking quickly, looking down. the rain hits the pavement and creates blue flashes in the orange glow, asphault wet and glittering from street lamps. my face crumbling, holding back the waterfall threatening to cascade down my cheeks. maybe the rain can just camoflague them. just one more 20. it's always just one more. one more attempt at recovery. one more chance. one more bag. one more mistake. one more slap in the face. maybe this really is the last time. maybe it'll be his laugh breath. are you dead or are you sleeping? god i sure hope you are dead.

i want watch him writhe and squirm on the floor. crying, screaming. to feel every ounch of pain, regret, anger, disappointment and utter sorrow that I have experienced because of him.

The good, the bad, the recovery.

Originally posted on March 17, 2009 on The Junkies' Wives Club

I haven't written in quite some time and I suppose now is a good time for an update. My bf has been clean for about 2 weeks now. I know it isn't much but to him it's huge. He's also been off the Suboxone for about a week. His attitude is terrible, he is constantly moody, depressed and irritable. He has zero interest in me or any activities he usually enjoys. I guess this is to be expected right?

I feel pretty damn stagnant in my own recovery. Since getting laid off back in December, I spend most of my time at home with him. I've been slacking off in school to the point where I had to drop a couple of classes due to lack of attendance. Since I am here all the time I meddle big time in his recovery and can't seem to just stop! I usually keep his cell phone on me and always monitor who he is talking to/texting when he does use it. He hasn't tried to do anything with friends or even leave the apartment in quite some time. He seems pretty disinterested in anything. We did have a joint birthday party a few weeks ago and he seemed to enjoy that, we had a good time. I know my constant codie behavior needs to be kept in check for my own sake. I can't baby-sit him my whole life like he's a toddler. It's not good for him or myself. But since I'm here so much it's almost impossible not to.

Being around him and his sullen attitude for the last few weeks is driving me nuts! I am working on a film project for school and decided to make a music video for one of his songs (he's a musician). He seemed super excited at first, writing out all these ideas and wanted to shoot. Now it's impossible to even get him off the couch to do any work at all. He accuses me of not being able to do anything for myself when I get angry at him for not coming with me to the the Manhattan to work on the project (after he makes repeated promises to do this). Then he has the nerve to say he's "too sick" to go to the drug store and pick up his thyroid medicine, so I have to do it for him. It frustrates me to no end. He's also been smoking a lot of pot and I'm not particularly fond of that either. It]s like he's traded in one drug for another.

He had an appointment with his radiation oncologist this week and getting him to that was like pulling teeth. He acts like I bother him to do these things just to torture him. It seems like he has no regard for his health and well-being. I feel like why the hell should I even care if he doesn't?!

Ugh, so much complaining I know. We did decide this summer we are going to go on a cross-country trip. He thinks it will be good for his recovery and it will be nice to get away from the city for awhile. I plan on visiting my half-sister in CA that I haven't seen since I was a kid. I'm just hoping hoping hoping that his attitude and demeanor will improve by then. He has talked about attending NA meetings several times but just can't seem to find the motivation to do anything. In some ways I don't blame him because I know because of his cancer he's legitimately NOT feeling well, plus kicking dope is no easy task on the mind or body. But sometimes I just want to shake him and scream "goddamnit do something!" He can't even walk to friggin dog for Christ's sake.

Can anyone give me any feedback/advice on dealing with early recovery? I try as hard as I can to be patient but it is seriously dwindling. Especially when he treats me like crap and really disregards my feelings. Thanks for listening.

Junk Lunch.

I want to back up a little and share an incident that happened a few months before I started this blog (the exact date being October 26, 2008), which I refer to as the "Junk Lunch" incident. In my previous post which was originally from 2/7/09 I mention "being held down and having food shoved in my face." Here is that whole story.

    Kneeling over the bed, I pound my fists into the mattress and scream as loudly as I can. The scream is interrupted by my wailing breathless sobs. Not again, not again, not again. I never fucking imagined that this would be my life. I reach for my phone, dialing my credit card company. Still in hysterics I explain to the Chase customer service rep that my credit cards and debit cards have been stolen and to please cancel them immediately. She tells me not to worry and the situation will be handled promptly.
    I force myself up off the floor and into the hallway. The mirror shows my swollen puffy face, red liquid now caked to my cheek and neck. I pick some stray lettuce out of my hair and find a piece of salami in the back. I return to my bedroom and start tearing the sheets off the bed. It looks like an Italian restaurant has exploded onto my blankets and walls. The floor is littered with the contents of my purse, my wallet torn in two. As I throw my soiled sheets and pillowcases into the washing machine I step over a broken chair and shards of glass. My cat looks at me, confused. She has a piece of ham on top of her head. I can’t help it, I laugh. Because if I don’t I’ll never stop crying.
    Me and D had been sitting in bed all morning, our lunch had just arrived. Take-out from Danny’s Pizzaria. While I was downstairs playing the delivery guy, he had found his wallet and realized I’d taken his dope. As I entered our room and sat down on the bed, he glared at me, standing next to the dresser. It was clear he knew. I looked up. “Yeah. I flushed it. You can’t be doing this shit anymore. You’re fucked up.” That was all it look to enrage him. He grabbed me by the back of the head, fingers digging into my scalp. Pulled me by hair down onto the bed. “Give it to me. NOW.” I tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but to no avail. “Let go!! It’s fucking gone!” I flailed helplessly, struggling to free myself. “You’re hurting me!”
    “YOU FUCKING BITCH!” he was screaming over and over. He was shaking me, still holding onto the back of my hair. He saw the brown Danny’s bag and grabbed it. Before I knew it, the bag was being smashed over and over again in my face. I was sobbing loudly, kicking and trying to get the hell up. The bag broke, and the contents of my Italian hero and his chicken parm hero were flying. He pressed down, shoving the food into my face and rubbing it in. I couldn’t breathe, a tomato slice was in my mouth, sauce filling my nostrils. I was helpless.
    Reaching out, I grasped for anything to help get him off me. He’s a big guy and I completely overpowered. Finally I gave in. I tried to speak. “I have the bag! STOP!” My words were muffled, but he heard exactly what he was hoping to hear. He threw the torn apart, saturated bad aside and said “GET IT NOW.” Crying and disoriented, I tried my hardest to remember where I had hidden it. It wasn’t quick enough. He had grabbed my bag and dumped it’s contents on the floor. My wallet was being ripped apart in his hands, him grabbing whatever credit cards and cash he found. I begged for him to please stop and to give me my cards back. “Fuck you! Give me MY shit!” Stumbling around I found his bag of heroin and handed it to him. He snatched it away, found his keys and stormed out, knocking over anything in his path that stood in his way. I knew my money was as good as gone. So was my pride, self-respect and dignity.
    My endless phone calls to him went unanswered. I knew he was at Fats’ house and I called him. I explained that D had stolen my cards and I really wanted them and the cash back right away. I knew I was dreaming thinking that he’d surrender the money.
    Fats arrived about 15 minutes later. Crying, I explained what happened. He told me that I should have never taken his drugs and that I’d made a mistake. Well of course. What else would another junkie say? He also informed me that Bobby was sick of me treating him like a baby, going through his things and always “spying” on what he was doing. I was sickened. How can anyone ever defend that kind of behavior? What would anyone in my position do? The EXACT same thing. I found something that I knew could kill him, so I took it away. It’s pretty much a no-brainer. Not to mention this stuff is tearing apart his entire life and is illegal.
    The rest of the day is somewhat of a blur. I know he had gotten to the ATM before Chase could cancel my cards. I think he got somewhere in the neighborhood of around $150. I know he didn’t return until later that evening, spending the day over at Fats’ apartment doing dope that I had paid for.
    What made this day particularly terrible to me was the fact that he had stooped to the level of holding me down and shoving food in my face. What kind of person does that? It’s so incredibly demeaning and juvenile. Over one bag of heroin. I just can’t wrap my head around it. And in the following months that we lived there I got a constant reminder of the “junk lunch” anytime I glanced at the wall next to my bed and noticed the little flecks of marinara sauce that wouldn’t come out as hard as I scrubbed.

Rage.

February 7, 2009

right now my blood is boiling, anger is consuming me. i am so sick and disgusted by the fucking scum and shit that surrounds me here. the garbage, the beggers, the filth, the dirty fucking junkies and their fucking needles and the withdrawl and the track marks and the stolen money and the lies. the horror of this town.

i hate him so much. i fucking despise him and his actions. his LIES. his blatent fucking lies to my face. having my friends lie for him. the money. the fucking money for bills and rent. shot into his veins. his swollen red pin-pricked veins. his eyes. his ugly disgusting avoidant liar eyes. pin-prick pupils. his hands. i always loved them so much. his long gorgeous fingers were just so beautiful to me. precise. i used to think to myself the day i'm not in love with his hands anymore is the day i know it's over. now they're covered in scabs and holes. swollen. unrecognizable. what a fucking metaphor.

i am so livid i could explode right now. the endless tears i have cried for this piece of shit loser that cares more about heroin then he ever cared about me. i will never get back the hours i sat here worrying. the endless nights and lost sleep. the classes i cut, friends i avoided. pictures i never took. galleries never visited, movies never seen. dinners never eaten. birthdays and holidays destroyed. my heart shattered forever.

i will never get back the last year and a half from my life that he has stolen. i will never recover from being so tremendously hurt by someone i thought loved me above all. i will never forget the terrible words that are stuck on repeat in my brain. all of the things that have been broken and destroyed cannot be fixed.

my wedding dress will sit in my closet back home, unworn. this is all like a really bad joke someone is playing on me.

i will never trust anyone again. EVER. about anything. i will be wary of anyone who attempts to get close to me.

i will have flashbacks of myself crying hysterically and him laughing in my face. mocking me and my gut wrenching pain. kicking me when i'm down. being slapped in the face. being held down and having food shoved in my face. my purse being ripped apart. wanting to die. praying that i just die.

praying for help from anyone. for strength even. god.

being sick and puking my guts out and having him tell me to fuck off and shoving me off the bed. that whore pulling up to his driveway and him claiming to know nothing about it. the money stolen from m tucked neatly into his sock. in full.
him saying he will only come to bed with me if i fuck him. leaving when i refuse.

HOW HAVE I DONE THIS? HOW CAN I BE TREATED LIKE A WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT AND TAKE IT? I HAVE ZERO SELF-RESPECT.

I HATE MY LIFE AND WHAT IT HAS BECOME. I HATE HIM AND I HATE MYSELF.

NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER AGAIN.

I WANT TO HOLD ONTO THIS ANGER FOR AS LONG AS I CAN. I WANT TO USE IT TO BETTER MYSELF.

Letter.

February 3, 2009

even though you gave up on it, i read your note.
all of the reasons you listed for quitting are very valid and good reasons to stop. i can't think of any reasons at all why NOT to stop.

i don't want to think you're a lost cause or hopeless, but i can't help feeling that way sometimes. you've been doing this for so long and every attempt has failed. i don't believe it has to be that way though. you have so many people who care about you and want to see you get out of this black hole. you have every resource to do so, the only thing you really need and are missing is willpower. strength. it's not going to be easy. you have to fight your inner demons every hour of every day for this to be successful. you need to think about that list you wrote and reason with yourself whenever you are feeling vunerable and weak.

a program will help you remember those reasons and keep you thinking positively. suboxone will help the physical symptoms. but i know it's the mental addiction that is probably the hardest part to kick.

doing this yourself has proven to be unsuccessful. it's very rare that someone can just make the decision to quit by themselves and it actually works. and taking on a job at this point isn't a priority. if anything it is going to hinder your recovery. you're not a point where that seems neccessary for your recovery. i'm telling you this because i've seen it happen with you before and i want what is best for you.

you're at a point in your life where this isn't a game anymore. you're not some kid who's just messing around, a phase to be grown out of. you're an adult with responsibilities and purpose.

i don't want to make you feel more guilty than you already do, but you know how much you've hurt me. turning this problem around and showing me that you are ready, willing and able to change will allow my wounds to begin to heal. i can learn how to trust again and have faith in you. those things are so important to me.

you need to admit that you are weak and powerless over your addiction and go from there. you can say you want to quit and mean it over and over again, but it doesn't mean anything until you do what's needed to show this.

today marks 1 straight week of you being high. not a single day has passed that you didn't use, and most days is was A LOT. this really saddens me. things have just spiraled out of control.

every day i worry that it's your last. i don't know what i would do if this shit killed you. i don't even want to think about it. you have SO much to live for. you're so talented and such a wonderful person and i miss being around the d that i fell in love with.

We're watching you.

After my boyfriend returned and then subsequently relapsed, he went back to his mom's in Jersey for a couple of days so he could have a Pet Scan done to see if his cancer had spread anywhere else other than where the doctors already knew it was.

I was highly suspicious that he cheated on me with his ex while he was gone like I mentioned in my previous blog. After he was home for a day or two I intercepted some of his text messages from her and it was clear that they had been doing heroin together. I remember how sickened I was by this and how the money he had begged off me had gone to buy him and his ex drugs.

The morning he was leaving to go back to NJ, his ex texted him while he was asleep. She asked what time he would be coming out and if he could bring drugs with him. I texted back pretending to be him. She instructed him to get a "bomb" which apparently is 10 bags. This girl is also the mother of a 4 year old and while of course my bf is to blame for all of this bullshit going on, I directed a lot of my anger at her. What kind of mother does heroin with her ex (who is engaged?) I was beyond disgusted and honestly just wanted to go to NJ myself so I could either strangle her or report her to Child Protective Services. My bf eventually woke up and saw the messages and stormed off to NJ without any sort of explanation. This is what I wrote that evening:

January 28, 2009

so d called me tonight. he rarely calls me. i always call first. he was sweet, just checking in and saying hello. he chatted for a bit and then he said he had to go. five minutes later his mother called. she had just chased v (the ex) out of the driveway. she wanted to let me know. of course. that's why he called me. he wanted to smooth everything over and prevent me from calling him for awhile. d called me a minute later after his mother and i had hung up. acting angry for no reason, accusing me of being mad (even though i played it cool, i wanted to see what he would say and i didn't bring it up). he hung up on me. i called him right back. asked what he had wanted. he said just a facebook question, no big deal. i told him that i thought maybe he was calling to see if i knew his mother had prevented v from picking him up. he became irate, accusing me of "playing games" and having a conspiracy with his mother. he turned everything around on ME. the funny thing is I QUESTION whether or not i did something wrong. it's so fucked up and sad that i have to question these things. the amount of guilt, blame and anger he directs at me because HE fucked up and is caught is tremendous. he loves to put the attention on me, accusing me of asinine shit. it's a defense tactic that always seems to work pretty well for him. not anymore. i want to be able and look back at this shit and LAUGH. laugh at how pathetic he is and what a fucking idiot he makes of himself. laugh at the fact that people like this actually exist. laugh because if i don't i'll cry. look back and say "shit, what the fuck were you thinking?? you are SO much better than that" because i am. because you don't treat "the love of your life" like this. you don't lie. steal. hurt over and over and over again. you don't make them feel like they are worthless. you don't take the money you make that should go towards your bills and living expenses and buy heroin to do with your ex girlfriend with. normal people DON'T do that. they just don't. it's obscene, selfish, just plain FUCKED UP.

i never pictured i would end up with someone i let walk all over me, use me, steal from me, lie to me, make me cry endless tears, make me feel like i'm not worth shit. i would be laughing and saying "yeah right!" if i had a magic crystal ball when i was 14 years old that let me see my life 10 years later. i'm not who i wanted to be. i'm far from it. i'm what i would have called "weak and pathetic". well, it's time to fix that. it's time to stand up, dust yourself off, say "see ya later!" and go back to being YOU. you get one life, and what you do with it counts. now is your shot. take it.

The reason my bf's mother chased his ex out of the driveway is because even though she's a God fearing Christian, she HATES v. When my bf was younger and hooked on dope for the first time, the ex is who he got hooked with. Together they stole his mom's checkbook and she had them arrested. Needless to say she's still not a big fan, especially since she's well aware of the shit he's been getting into. So her meddling came in handy to me that night.... she screamed at v to "get the hell off her property and never come back."
Mother and girlfriend co-codies..... but sometimes it just feels so good!

Stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Originally posed January 27, 2009 on The Junkies' Wives Club

Well, my fiance has returned home after his two week stint in NJ at his mother's to work on getting clean. It was unsuccessful, but of course he would never admit to that. He stole pain killers from his mother, went out several nights without coming home and was very obviously using. He was also hanging around his ex-gf (former addict) and my gut feeling tells me he was cheating.

I thought him being gone would give me some peace of mind - no addict around to make everything in my life difficult. I actually felt WORSE with him not being here. I ate very little and barely slept at all. All I could think about was what he was doing and if he still loved me (he wasn't exactly showing it when I spoke to him). He seemed very moody and distant, not wanting to talk to me.

He returned this weekend and things were great. We were thrilled to see each other and were really enjoying each other's company. That is until the ex started texting him which bothered me to no end. Then of course he gets angry at me for being upset and concerned.

Today when I got home from class he was locked in the bathroom. The little bit of money I gave him had been "lost". There was a burned bottle cap and a little cup of water in the bathroom. Then his pinned eyes and giddy attitude. He's using again. Like I should expect anything differently.

I don't know what to do. I wish I was stronger, had more confidence. Without him I fall apart, with him I'm miserable. I know everyone says to concentrate on "YOU" but I feel like there is no "me" without him. I know that's pathetic and lame, but it's truly how I feel. I find no joy in anything, I can't seem to pull myself together. I miss class and become a hermit. I rarely see my friends, I just lay around the house all day., discontent and depressed.

How do I get myself out of this black hole? Will I ever be "me" again?

After a long hiatus, I've returned.

It's been about 9 months since I've posted anything and I'd like to get my blog up to speed. I really don't know where to start. It seems like what I already have posted is just a little piece of the middle with no beginning or ending (if there is an end yet). I'm trying to figure out a clear, concise way to tell the whole story without leaving gaps or jumping around so much. I often write things in Notepad and just save them as text documents which will be helpful in recalling certain details and accounts of experiences. For now I'm just going to wing it. If things get too confusing I can always just start over. So bear with me and any feedback is appreciated.

I just can't quit you baby.

I'm wondering how after all the drama I endured when my bf was still here it's even possible that lately I feel WORSE. I had assumed once I had some piece of mind and a little freedom from dealing with his addict-antics things in my own life would immediately improve, but I was dead wrong.

Tomorrow will mark 2 weeks since he left for his mom's in New Jersey. I visited him this past weekend, mainly because his mother informed me he was constantly going out drinking and that he stole a ton of her pain pills and she couldn't take his behavior anymore. I also know that he has been talking to an ex-girlfriend whom I'm not particularly fond of, and that's been driving me mad. My codie-craziness convinced to go out there and "fix" things, since clearly I've been so great at doing that. Another part of me (a very very big part) is going nuts without him, I miss him more and more everyday. He's been very withdrawn and moody on the phone, often not calling at all. I suppose I thought a visit would help me see that he does still love me and that all of this torture I put myself through has not been in vain.

I arrived on Saturday afternoon. His mother had told me he hadn't even come home the night before, that he had gotten drunk and stayed at a friend's house. I had barely slept all of Friday night, knowing he was out, wondering what (or who) he was doing. He and his mother picked me up from the train station and I gave him a quick kiss and a half-hearted hug. He said "what, you're going to be mad at me all weekend?" I said no.

Back at his house, things started out great. He seemed really genuinely happy to see me. We cuddled and kissed and had sex and just relaxed together like this whole chaotic mess of the last year and a half never even happened. Towards the end of the night he seemed a bit more withdrawn, but I let it go. The next day he was ridiculously grumpy and MEAN on top of it. He said some very hurtful things, usually stemmed from me questioning him about why he has been talking to his ex and what his motives are. I can't understand why he gets so pissed if there is nothing going on. I guess he feels like I pry to much, but after all the bullshit lies he's told me, what the fuck does he expect? Me to just hand him my trust? C'mon. I do admit he is not the cheating type and it would be out of character for him to do something like that, but I am suspicious by nature when it comes to being unfaithful. By the time I left Monday afternoon he was openly calling me names in front of his mother because I had refused to give him the cash he had asked for. I told him I would give it to his mother and she could hold it. He flipped out saying that he's "a man and is treated like a baby." Well, that is true. He has to be in order to maintain staying clean. His mother agree with me and we tried to reason with him but he wasn't very receptive. I left feeling worse than I did when I arrived.

The last few days he's been somewhat better. He had another tooth pulled that had been causing him a lot of pain and that helped his demeanor A LOT. He seemed upbeat and happy to be feeling so much better (and he did not take any pain medication). Yesterday he hung out with some friends and I could tell he was drinking again. I didn't want to start a fight so I didn't give him any shit about it. He also neglected to call me for most of the day which really annoyed me.

As for the ex, I checked the call logs and saw that they are still texting somewhat frequently. It's to the point where I'm obsessing over it so much I'm having nightmares. I can't understand why he feels the need to talk to her when he knows it drives me crazy. I've asked him repeatedly to NOT talk to her but he just doesn't get it. We had an argument on the phone earlier today and he really lost his temper and hung up on me. I HATE it when he does that. He later apologized but I'm still not happy. My stomach is in knots thinking he doesn't love me any more. I know right now he's going through a tough time but I can't help but take his behavior very personally. I'm having trouble eating and sleeping. My mind races all day. I've been skipping classes and just driving myself insane. I need to detatch myself from this so badly. I can't just sit here and wonder all day what he's doing while my own life passes me by. And this is so much easier said than done.

I wonder if he even wants to be with me. If he wants to come back home and work out the mess of our relationship. It seems like a pretty daunting task. And given the fact that he's so indifferent towards me I can't imagine why he would. I can't imagine why I would after everything he's put me through. But for some reason I can't let go. I'm holding on with all my strength. I hope it's worth it.

It's all so hard.

I haven't seen him in 5 days. At first, I was relieved. No screaming matches, no bawling my head off in desperation, and I could leave my wallet wherever I wanted to with no worries about my money being stolen.

He made the decision to go to a detox center last Thursday night. This gigantic step forward was made after his mother became involved in the situation. After 4 days of being clean he couldn't take it anymore. After I refused to give him any money he called his mother and begged for cash, telling her we were broke and couldn't even afford food. His mother became suspicious and called me, and I told her the fridge was stocked and my bf was jut itching for dope. She called him back and told him she was not going to give him money for drugs. He lost it. After breaking some glassware and the television remote, he repeatedly called his mother, cursing her out and threatening to kill himself. She just just kept hanging up. Then he started text messaging her saying he was not going to get treatment for his cancer if she didn't give in to his demands. Crying, she called me and said she didn't know what to do. She told me to give him the money and she would replace it in my bank account. I wasn't thrilled at all by her decision and reluctantly obliged. That evening, after much researching on the internet I found a detox center that was willing to take him even without insurance. His mother and I talked it over and I made the difficult choice of having to tell him it was rehab or he had to leave. He agreed that his addiction was out of control and it was time to do this. His mother said she would come into the city the following morning to accompany us.

The next morning I woke up early to find him staring blankly at the muted television, watching Sesame Street in silence. I asked him if he were ready for this. He said no, he would not go unless I gave him $20. The previous morning's battle was repeated once more, him calling his mother and begging for money once more. Again, she gave in. He said he wanted to go into detox feeling good. He got to the hospital in the early afternoon. I called the doctor and told him we had arrived. He informed me that an gastrointestinal virus had broken out in the detox ward and they had been forced to shut down and were not admitting new patients. My heart sank. I gave him and his mother the news. As to be expected, he wasn't quite heart broken. "Okay well that's that. Let's go home." I looked at him. "You know that's not an option. I'm not letting you come back this time honey." He lost it, yelling and cursing and both me and his mother "fuck you both!" All 3 of us stood on the sidewalk on first avenue just wondering what new chaos and drama was about to erupt. His mother said "Come stay with me in Jersey... you'll be comfortable and I'll help you through it." This idea was less than fantastic I thought, as the last time he decided to go to his mom's to clean up all he did was party with his old friends and continued to be sneaky. He didn't have any real intention to get clean. But what other options were there at this point? I nodded with an unsure look on my face and he agreed to go. We returned to our apartment, he gathered up his things and off they went.

I talk to him several times a day. Sometimes he's in a good mood, but usually he's short and doesn't have much to say. His mother gives me daily updates of his progress. At first he stayed in the house without going out at all. Now he visits an old friend whom he plays music with. The last 2 days he's been smoking pot and drinking. His mother, while not crazy about it, doesn't stop it. "Well, he's not doing heroin" is her logic. It makes me angry that he's doing this. That's not how you fucking recover. It's not party time. It's get your shit together time. He says he couldn't take it and just needed something to help him get by. I don't understand his thinking at all. Just a typical addict. Always needing something to get by.

I'm feeling pretty depressed today. Despite the fact that living with him has been a nightmare lately, I miss him so much. I want to hold him and kiss him more than anything. I want him to feel the same way and it's killing me that he probably doesn't although he says he does. I'm afraid he's going to fuck up, hang out with old friends who are bad influences. I'm afraid he's going to cheat on me. I worry, worry, worry and it doesn't fucking help at all. I worry when he's here, I worry when he's gone, my life is just one big worry-fest. For a few days I was feeling pretty good. Psyched that I had a $20 bill in my purse for 3 whole days without it disappearing. I went to class on Monday and didn't sprint home to make sure all was quiet on the western front. I went to the library and hung out with a few friends. I felt like me again. Not once did I cry myself to sleep.

My dog Elsa, that I left behind at my parent's house, died this weekend. She was old and lived a good life but it's still so hard to accept, especially now. My bf didn't really have much of a reaction and didn't offer any words of comfort and that hurt. It kills me that he's so emotionless and robotic. He used to be the most compassionate person I ever met. Now he's cold and blank, emotionally retarded. It kills me.

Will I ever get him back? Will he ever be the person I fell in love with again? Will the spark ever return to his eyes? Is it stupid to continue to wish and wish and try to hope that this problem will be erased? I NEED these answers. I need him.

That shit you say, it can really hurt me.

The last few days have been a complete nightmare. I had envisioned (and hoped) that when my boyfriend found out about his cancer and his serious condition that it would snap him back into reality and that he'd decide to change his life around for the better. Wishful thinking as usual.

Twice in 2 days he snuck into my purse and stole my money. I was truly shocked the first time, usually it never leaves my watchful trained eye. The second time he locked me out of the apartment, went through my wallet and then ran out before I had a chance to stop him. This all happened in front of my roommate and I was mortified. The same day he threatened to kill himself and told me he would do whatever it takes to get his dope, even if it means selling his own possessions. Needless to say, I was horrified and had no idea what to do.

It's hard, it's so unbelievably fucking hard. I know he is hurting and depressed because of his failing health and this is a huge factor in why I just don't say go fuck yourself, have a nice life, and kick him out of the house. I feel like it will only be a matter of time before he is dead and I love him too much to see this happen. The pain and guilt of that would be too much to bear.

Yesterday morning was the day he had PROMISED to go to the Medicaid office and then look into rehab or a treatment program of some sort. He refused to get up in the morning and told me there was nothing I could do to get him to stop using. I told him that he needed to leave if he was not going to seek help. He told me I can't make him. Then he slept the entire day. In true codie behavior, I snooped through his things and took away his phone and wallet. Anything that will slow him down from getting that shit. What I was really interested in was finding were his keys were. He hangs out a lot in our storage space in the basement where he has all of his musical equipment and recording devices. That's where he does his drugs. I've had a sneaking suspicion that lately he's been using needles. I found out that Fats now uses them and since my bf found out the bad news I knew there was nothing stopping him from becoming more self destructive. After lots of quietly searching around, I found the keys hidden above the kitchen cabinets. Once I was in the storage space, I opened the middle drawer in his desk. Not at all to my surprised a syringe was hidden in the back. I wanted to vomit. Fucking DISGUSTING. I called his mom right away and you know what? Almost NO reaction. I couldn't believe how lax and nonchalant her attitude was. What kind of mother is she?

Later on that evening, I calmly confronted him. He looked sheepishly at me and half smiled. "How did you get in there?" I told him it didn't matter and what was important was that his actions were completely out of control and that this needs to end. Now. He agreed and said he is fucking up hardcore and needs to get his shit together. It's never reassuring anymore.

Today was miserable. He's so moody and distant, and I suppose that's to be expected. And I can't help but take it personally. I know he feels terrible but I was going out of my way to be nice to him, staying supportive and telling him I'm here for him if he truly does want to get clean. He told me he's worthless and I shouldn't stick around with such a shitty boyfriend. He said we should just break it off now. He makes me so fucking upset when he's like that. You would figure he'd be happy that I'm here for him, but in his mind he wants to leave so no one is breathing down his neck hindering his drug consumption. I know this is not the right way to help someone get clean. I KNOW they have to want it for himself and my baby-sitting him is probably not going to help the situation. But I'm such a controlling codie, I want to make everything perfect and just fix it all with my magic powers.

All I want right now is too feel appreciated and cared for. When he's high it's impossible for him to show that, and even if he did I wouldn't want it. When he's not using he's so down and depressed and I want so much for him to reach out to me and for us to just be in love again, but it's wishful thinking and painful letdowns.

Today is day two of being clean and just making it to day three seems like an impossible challenge. I no longer have hope for his miracle recovery, or even a slow steady one. He's still playing music and writing, which is nice because I usually equate those activities with him being high. If only he could take those words on paper and lyrics that spill out of his mouth and apply them for real to this disastrous mess that I'm struggling to clean up for him.

Happy Fucking New Year.

2009 has sure started out great. It began with me begging my bf to get out of bed at 6am so we could make it to his doctor's appointment on Long Island on time. He refused, literally kicking and screaming. Throwing things at me. He was "in too much pain." I told him that my dad had already taken off of work to take us to his appointment and that he was being a huge baby. I told him if he got his ass up we could stop at a 24 hour pharmacy and get the damn pain killers he conned the dentist into prescribing him. That worked of course, but didn't change his terrible mood. And we still missed our train and made it to the Endocrinologist a half hour late.

Once at the appointment the doctor came into the room with a somber look on his face. "I'm sorry, but it is cancer we found." The news, while not shocking, was of course still upsetting. The doctor explained that the cancer had grown and at this point may be inoperable. He recommended checking out some of the surgeons at Sloan Kettering and Colombia to see what they thought. He also told us to make an appointment with his Radiologist, as Radioactive iodine treatment may also be an option. He left the room and gave us a few moments. My boyfriend had no reaction, was completely stone-faced. I gave him a hug and told him everything was going to be just fine. He informed me that he wanted to "refuse treatment and just fucking die." That's the spirit. Although the news certainly wasn't encouraging, it definitely wasn't a death sentence either. The doctor explained that my bf needs to start giving a shit about his health and stop acting so immature (he doesn't know about the drugs either.) He said that since he is young and otherwise healthy, there's no reason to think he won't make it if he gets the proper care and treats his body well. Which means - no drugs, no smoking, cutting down on the alcohol, eating right, etc. etc. All the normal stuff. You would think that getting news like this would make someone re-evaluate how they treat their life right? Nope. We're been back in the city now, almost for an hour. And out the door he went, nasty as ever, refusing to let me come with him. I can't fucking believe him.

Today I went back and saw my doctor again to re-check my blood pressure and to have a physical and get some tests done. While it has come down a little, it was still on the high side. She referred me to see a cardiologist, which scares me to no end. I HATE doctors, especially heart doctors. I have terrible anxiety whenever it comes to anything medical or being sick. Today in the office they gave me an EKG and it was all screwed up because of my pounding fearful heart. Why does this shit happen to me? I'm 24 years old and I have high blood pressure and possible heart issues. Not to mention crippling anxiety. My bf has cancer and a heroin addiction. How many bad things can fucking happen to one person?? I look around at all of my friends and I feel like I'm 70 years old.

I'm so fucking torn at this point. I can't can't CAN'T live with someone who abuses drugs and treats me like I'm worthless. It's all just hurt and lies and anger and bullshit and I can't take it anymore. At the same time how can I leave this person when he has cancer?! I do love him of course, but when do you decide it's time to walk away? Why can't he fucking see that he letting his own life slip right through his fingers?? It's seems like an obvious choice to give up the destructiveness and decide that life is worth more than that. Apparently it's not that easy.