This is the second part to a series of blogs that I will be posting. These are very, very personal stories. The events I share were impactful and part of my journey which formed the path to where I am today. I have kept names out to protect those involved. These are my stories from my recollection. Drug use, binge drinking, and physical abuse will be described throughout the series.
After contacting G and promising him I was off meth and working on quitting cigarettes, we were officially a couple. Summer had arrived and I was spending all of my free-time with him hanging at his Mom's condo while she was out of town. Shortly thereafter, he moved out of the place he shared with his ex-fiancé into his own studio apartment. I still had my place that I was sharing with roommates, but I was barely ever there. I went there to grab more clothes or do laundry while G was taking summer classes at CSUN.
That summer was magical . . . we spent our time going to Zuma Beach, hanging at the pool, and going on road trips. I met his family right away; mom, dad, and step-mom, his aunts and uncles, his cousins and their kids. It was a great family. They welcomed me and were kind to me. I felt so lucky to have met such a great guy with an awesome family. I wasn't expecting what was about to transpire.
Slowly, he began to ask me to change how I dressed and would call or text me multiple times when I was away from him. The red-flags were there, yet when I confronted him about his behavior and his possessiveness, he would just say, "I love you, I want to make sure you're safe." My gut was telling me something different. I wanted to believe him, so I ignored my instincts and trusted him. I really wanted this relationship to work, I wanted it to eventually lead to marriage. I became used to his behavior. I felt trapped. I was suffocating. I didn't feel like me anymore.
One Saturday, we invited our friends over for a BBQ and some cocktails. We decided to play a "Family Guy" drinking game with a bottle of Jack Daniels. We were all pretty intoxicated and started wrestling around. He got a little too friendly with my girl and it made me super uncomfortable. When I confronted him in the bathroom, he pushed me backwards into the tub where I hit my head. I didn't lose consciousness, but I definitely saw stars. I was stunned. At that point, both our friends left and I got the hell out of there. I packed up what I could into my bag and drove to my townhome. He followed me there. He begged me to come back. Which I did. When I think back about that time, I can't believe I went back to him. That should have been the final straw, but sad to say, it wasn't. Not even close. The next three years were living hell.
That Halloween, we went to his cousin's house in the Hollywood Hills for a party. It was amazing; the decorations, the costumes, the food. And of course, we dressed up as a pair; I was a Geisha and he was a Samurai. He was fun and funny, he was thoughtful, and he would make special cd mixes for our road trips and slideshows of photos from the trips. He had some great qualities and we had so much in common. He taught me about things and he gave me experiences I had never had before, and I felt like I was practicing to be his wife. I was willing to overlook his flaws. Now, I'm not going to place all the blame on him, but because of his insecurity, I became quite anxious and insecure as well. He constantly accused me of flirting with other men or seeing men behind his back. They always say the person doing the accusing is the guilty one. So, I started to feel very insecure and questioned him as well. I had a lot of unhealthy coping behaviors, and quite honestly, I didn't know how to communicate effectively with a partner. During the Halloween party, it appeared that he was flirting with his cousin's nanny. So, on the ride home I accused him of sleeping with her. He became very angry. He threw a full bottle of water directly at my head in his truck while he was driving. Again, when we got back to his place, I packed my stuff and went home.
It didn't matter what happened; the jealous accusations, the snooping through my phone, reading my journals and following me to work to make sure that's where I was, I stayed with him. We both behaved equally as bad. But even after reconciling, I always felt like I was one mistake away from a break-up; whether I had slipped up and bought a pack of cigarettes or if I came home later than I expected, or received a text or call from someone in my past. I started to have very little communication with my friends because of this. He didn't want me hanging out with them since most of my girlfriends I had met through my ex. I was completely isolated. It was the day before New Year's Eve and I met with my BFF for coffee before she left on a major trip to Jerusalem. During that two hour period, G texted me and called me multiple times. It was extremely embarrassing and she asked what that was all about. She knew what was up and she was worried. As most of my friends were. This scenario happened many times; at my friend's wedding, when I'd leave to get my nails done, or visit with other girlfriends. He always had to know where I was.
After months of not living at the townhome I rented, we decided it was time for me to move in. It just didn't make any sense for me to be spending so much money every month for a place I never stayed at. So, that spring I moved in com