That’s what is left in the bank until my next paycheck clears, sometime this weekend if I’m lucky.
My biggest expense? Paying off the debt created by my abusive ex-boyfriend. His beer, his fishing supplies, his PS3 games, his food, his clothes, his strip clubs, his phone, his, his, his. Beer, beer, beer. Crashing my car. Upping my car insurance. Punching me in the face and jaw, giving me a black eye, and leading a doctor to order a CT-scan.
That last incident made him an EX.
I’m surviving. I can make it. I have a phone interview tomorrow for a better job.
Onward I walk.
So was my Abusive Ex.
He took/takes Lexapro and Klonopin daily.
He was still an asshole.
I keep applying for jobs.
Something will happen.
I need a miracle.
I believe in miracles.
Some nights, I just have to leave the hall light on.
Body - tired, exhausted.
Don’t want to work.
Want to sleep and sleep and sleep.
I just want to walk outside and keep walking and not stop. I feel like I’m losing my sanity, that even in this heat, I am becomming more and more blue and less and less hopeful.
And now my outside motion lights are on. Awesome.
I can’t stand being in this town. I don’t feel safe. My living situation is less than desirable. Anxiety is major. If I don’t take medicine to help me sleep, I don’t fall asleep until 3 or 4am, then I find myself wide awake at 7am with anxiety. If I do take medicine, I sleep and sleep and sleep and have to set multiple alarms and peel myself out of bed 30 minutes before work starts or I’d sleep the entire day away.
There’s a place I want to move very badly. My heart is there, and I believe I belong there. I would feel much safer. I would know a few people. I would be near places I love to visit. I’m trying and trying and trying to get a job there. But, I’m not trying hard enough. It’s hard to give my all to anything, while fighting off depression, fighting off nightmares and anxiety and loneliness and boundary violations. Sigh. I don’t know. Nights are dark.
A few days later, he came by work and asked for my debit or credit card so that he could get some supplies to go fishing with his brother. I made him promise not to buy beer [I later found out he bought vodka]. They went fishing, and afterwards, he text me, asking if he could use my card again to go night-golfing in the city with his friend Chris. I found this very fishy, and looked online for a golf course that was open for night-golfing in March, but came up empty. His texts were suspicious.
I couldn’t sleep. Something about this whole situation bothered me. I checked my bank account online. Liquor store ($20). Gas station ($30). Strip club, strip club, strip club ($85). I checked his phone records online (we shared a family plan in my name that I paid for) – calls to phone sex operators. I was so angry at him for lying at me, and I sent him several angry texts.
When he got home at 4am, I was still awake, mad, but he threw it back at me, getting mad at me for being so mad at him for just wanting to have some fun with his friends. We argued back and forth, and I just wanted him to apologize for lying and using so much of my money, but he wouldn’t. He went downstairs, and I tried to get some sleep, as it was a workday.
At 7:00am, I woke up from the sound of the bedroom door closing. A few moments later, the front door closed. I looked outside the window, and saw him pull away in my car. I was so mad that he took my keys and drove off like that, especially after drinking. The downstairs was littered with empty beer cans. He came back 30 minutes later, with more beer (another $20). I needed more sleep, and didn’t want to cause a scene, so I just went back to bed. When I woke up, got ready, and left for work, I stopped to snap a photo of him, slumped over himself on the loveseat, passed out, looking gross. After that, I hid my keys at night.
March, my birthday, a weekend.
On the days leading up to my birthday, AbusiveEx repeatedly asked me what I wanted to do, saying “it’s your special day, we can do whatever you want.” What I wanted was to go to a BBQ joint we both liked, then go to a giant antique store and walk around exploring things, then maybe go to Guitar Center so I could check out a keyboard that I have seen online. He knew this ahead of time and agreed to go. We went to the restaurant and had a nice lunch. Then, he was so full, he just wanted to go home. He said my other ideas were boring and pointless since I didn’t have the money to buy anything, that he hates shopping, and that I “need to find girlfriends do girly shit like that with.” So, we went home.
That evening, he decided that he wanted to go fishing. He guilted me into going, so we ran around town getting the bait and beer he needed, but by the time we got out to the lake, it was dark and cold and he was in a pissy mood and wanted to go back home. Actually, he wanted to go out, but I didn’t, so he was mad at me for being a party-pooper on my own birthday, calling me a loser among other choice names. We went home. He played video games and drank, and I cried in bed.