Category Archives: abandonment

Saturday (illustrated version)

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Barefoot in Kings Cross.

 

Today was a flat-out day trying to navigate the labyrinth that is Sydney Metro Transport.

It didn’t help that a few of the rail lines were down and had to be supported by buses (every friggin’ week they are working on a line) which made everything take that much longer. Extremely frustrating and this only escalated when I was walking along Kings Cross and tripped and broke my shoe – I was convinced I wouldn’t get out of there without contracting some strand of hepatitis from standing on something sharp.

I was down that way looking at a studio which allows pets. I am trying to find something that:

A: I can afford

B: Allows dogs

[CUE CANNED LAUGHTER].

The trip home was barefoot until I could find a shop that had both my size (I have long feet) and style and I am actually pretty happy with my new shoes so, that was a boon.

The disgusting old junkie who inherited a house only to lose every possession in it and let it fall into ruin around him.

It took the entire day to navigate the rail/bus/rail/bus/rail/bus fiasco and when I got home my new short-term roomie suggested that we go and get some drugs to alleviate the heat (it was bloody hot here today huh?) and the pending boredom and I didn’t take much convincing. I went with the temp roomie (A) to collect our goodies and got a first-hand look at what someone who has done drugs for 50 years looks and lives like when we arrived. I was completely freaked out by this guy and the worse part? He wasn’t the dealer, his niece was so, he was begging me for a bit of what A and I bought …. And he talked non-stop about how great is life was before he discovered drugs; how successful he used to be when he was young … it was entirely depressing and my opinion of how it would have been awesome to meet William Burroughs before he died was irrevocably altered.

The Park

Back home, I decided to go and see the neighbours who have been looking after my dog to try and beg their forgiveness that my hospital stay exceeded the promised 3 days. So, I went back to where I used to live.

And then things got a bit messy and weird.

When I got there, I was wired and feeling anxious about facing these poor people who have been so lovely to me and my dog. I was really stressed in hospital about them having to continue to take care of her and so I decided to smoke at the park for half an hour before facing them.

Then I sent the Pup a text — yes, I know, I know — I actually wanted to talk to him quickly about something non-personal for 10 minutes and tried to explain that I just wanted to see him quickly if he was free but it wasn’t urgent. We texted a few times and he kept asking what it was about and I said I didn’t want to get into it on the phone and then he just. stopped responding even though he had just said he would be back nearby in 20 minutes.

When he stopped texting, I decided to just call him and he didn’t answer. This triggered me completely of course. Knowing him, he was completely paranoid about the possibilities of what I wanted to talk about, put 2 and 2 together and came up with 22,349 and freaked out but I was upset that he just ignored me, he has never done that before and we had been still friendly texting for the past 2 weeks every 4-5 days. So he is officially an asshat.

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I finally left the park and walked up to see my ex-neighbours, well, I knocked on the door, and they weren’t home. This wouldn’t normally be a crisis but my dog was locked inside and she had realised it was me knocking …. I felt like such a terrible person. Triggered a little bit more and feeling like a really crappy person who has abandoned the most loyal friend she has in the world and who is so unlovable that the (kinda) ex who was so very into her not one month ago cannot even be bothered to answer a call from her anymore he is so NOT into her now because she is disgusting and pathetic and just plain sad really.

I eventually ended up being in the park for around 4 hours all up. On a Saturday night. High as a kite, triggered and no idea where to go as my temporary roomie was out of it and a little scary for being so.

Luckily my lovely B took a call from me and talked it all through with me, or rather allowed me to rant at him while he listened patiently and reassured me that the pup is bat-shit crazy and not acting like a decent person and it wasn’t me being the human/ex repellent that I felt like I was/am. I’m pretty sure I was repeating myself over and over and I know for a fact that I was already repeating stuff B had heard before. I kinda love B.

Sam

Eventually, I got off the phone, deleted the Pup’s number and grabbed a train back to the connecting bus to A’s place (I don’t really want to call it a flat/unit/apartment as it is the most filthy thing I have ever seen). I was too late for a connecting bus and grabbed a cab instead. The cab driver asked how my day had been and I told him it had been a bit weird. He asked me why and I gave him a very brief outline and he acted really interested and asked questions and we got talking.

When we pulled up to A’s place, he asked if I was up for taking a drive and I said “sure”.

We drove around for about 2 hours, he asked me about what type of men I like, what I like about relationships, if I believed in love etc .. not the most original questions ever thrown at me or any other woman on the planet ….. it was odd but, he was nice enough overall and, to be honest, I was high enough and pissed off enough by the Pup to want to see exactly where this next young ‘un (a bit older than the Pup but not by much) was going to take things, or try to.

He actually drove to all of these dark little alcoves and parks, the kind of locations that are earmarked as ideal locations for making slasher films … but, he was perfectly polite the whole time. I asked if we could stop so I could smoke and he drove for a few minutes before pulling over and I was dumbstruck to see that he had driven to the park I had spent the 4 hours in …. Full fucking circle. I swear that park will haunt my Sydney life – it was where I originally met the Pup if you recall and it is now where the Pup refused a call from me for the first time. I am considering setting fire to it but, some basic Googling internet research has revealed that apparently, it is “illegal” to set fire to public parks, or, pretty much anything. Who knew?

Anyway … I eventually told the cab driver – Sam —  that I am working in the morning and I need to get home (I’m not). Along the way, he is trying, just a little, to see if I was open for something to go down between us. He was trying to be a bit sexy and definitely not pulling it off, he was so cheesy that it was almost laughable and I am sure he would have found it so as well if he was privy to the shit-storm that has been brewing in my life this year when it comes to men.

I got out of the cab, we exchanged “lovely to meet you” (s) and that, was that.

The home invasion

Around 4am, there was a bang on the door here. My temp roomie was in bed and I was attempting to sleep because I had not had any sleep for 47 hours at that point. Temp roomie (A) got up and answered and this HUGE young pup (not mine) barreled in and started demanding cigarettes and being generally obstreperous – he was actually really scary, very drunk and obviously pissed at A about something.

The young guy was around 6’4 to A’s 5’10 and they are both built like bouncers – given that this is the tiniest flat in the western hemisphere and every square inch is covered with dirty plates, ashtrays, bric-a-brac and furniture and I was lying on a sofa bed that takes up 60% of the room when open, this little confrontation was enclosed, loud and pretty damn scary.

The bouncer/pup had a serious bone to pick and was screaming and yelling at the top of his lungs. He had with him a tiny little blonde of around 19 who was wearing, well, nothing really and he kept turning around and slapping her on the arse and asking Artie if he ever “gets quality ass like that”. She, for her part, stole cigarettes off the table and tried to yell over the top of the bouncer pup that “let’s gooooooo” … “I wanna goooo” and smiling whenever the bouncer pup referred to her arse.

It was like a cross between The Godfather and Jersey Shore.

This all dragged out for a good 20 minutes, which is a damn long time when you are lying in a sofa bed holding your breath, waiting for an explosion and trying not to make any sudden movements to trigger said explosion.

It ended with the bouncer pup putting an axe to A’s throat and threatening to come back if A’s ‘crime’ against him was ever repeated. Obviously this is the short version but the point is that however terrifying, no blood was spilled (although both A and I possibly peed a little).

It was just an odd day.

And after paying A’s rent for a week and supplying cigarettes and stuff, I have dipped into what little money I have and really need to stay here for the week rather than fork out for other short-term accommodation.

But I seriously need outta here.

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Blurry memories

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I’m sad today that the last memory I take with me from the Pup-who-lives-down-the-road is him refusing to hug me when we were saying our goodbye. It had been a tough day for us both and we were really struggling to communicate, but just like the previous ex, there seemed to be a need to inflict humiliation. I really hate that this is my memory of him. The boy who couldn’t get enough of me got more than he bargained for or wanted .. .

I have nothing else that seems tangible except a picture I took to show my friend B how this rather presumptuous young pup had stolen my bed and all I wanted to do was drink his vodka … I never took any other pictures.

It’s only been a few weeks and I can barely recall what he looked like. And that seems so very sad.


Dumped, sectioned and kinda homeless

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It’s been another ‘dear diary’ couple of days.

After the pup got back with a bucket of drugs, we talked for a while and I asked him what/why things had changed between us .. he told me that he cannot respect anyone who cuts themselves and that looking at my wrist is disgusting to him. That was the gist of it, he is basically freaked out and I have scared away yet another guy. Given that this is someone who takes drugs and drinks every day, can’t hold a job for more than a few days, who gets into fights and manages to piss off pretty much everyone around him, it was kinda rich to sit in judgement of me I thought.

I did point out that he had not long ago turned up at my doorstep in the middle of the night after a fight, covered in blood, and with all of his belongings and I just listened, didn’t judge and never brought it up again. Apparently however, this was me trying to make my issues about him .. or something like that … I can tell you that we tried to communicate for around 3 hours but I am unsure that either one of us understood even one thing the other was saying, we quite literally speak different languages.

The good thing about this is that I am not heartbroken or anything, he was too young, he was not a good influence and it was going to end at some point soon anyway.

The withdrawal of (his) sexual interest hurts because of what happened with my ex, which has been exacerbated this week by our awful email exchange last week and because, well, that shit hurts. The withdrawal of it due to my ‘issues’ with self harm compounds that.

After he left, I got a call from the hospital where I had surgery last week to check in on me and I was drunk, high on meth and kinda freaked out due to the hours with the pup and the dumping  … I told them I couldn’t deal with them right that moment and that I was going to the park … and they called the police.

Be careful using the words ‘can’t deal with’ when talking to mental health professionals as they take that a tad literally.

Given that I really was high on meth and coming across as a bit manic, the police decided to section me and I found myself back at the hospital yet again. Shit is getting old.

I called my friend from work and he came and got my dog and after a 4-hour wait, I finally got to chat to 2 psychs and they cleared me to go home.

Except, I couldn’t go home because I didn’t have my rent and gilbo-the-flatmate-from-hell is not the type of guy that you can discuss this with and I was too freaked out to go home. So, I came back to where the guy from work lives to catch my breath and think, and stop crying, and dry out.

However, I ended up going to a friend’s house last night, well, there was 3 of us and I drank a boatload of Jack Daniels, took some Ritalin, some Xanax and stayed up all night talking. I woke up on the opposite end of Sydney and had to sneak my dog onto the train and take a 2-hour ride home.

As I was walking in the door, I got a text from gilbo-the-flatmate-from-hell to advise me that as my rent is now 48 hours late, he has put my things on the front verandah and if they are not collected by tomorrow afternoon, he will have them removed.

So, I am officially homeless now … not sure what to say on that one .. it sorta speaks for itself huh??

The guy from work that I have been staying with, and who has been such a good friend has realised that I am not going to sleep with him. And, although he is too good a person to just throw me out, he has been pretty clear that I need to deal with my shit tomorrow and find somewhere to stay etc … and I can’t blame him for that whatsoever.

No idea what tomorrow will bring or how it will arrive.

No idea what I will do about any of it.

Just wanted to punch it out on here … and yeah, it’s the short version.


No more delusions please …

I am still really stuck on the horrible email exchange from the other night between the ex and myself. 

I am not sure if being told that the year we spent sharing each other was, really, nothing more than a fuck in a toilet or, if being called delusional for trying to find some peace and sincerity from that year despite what happened (what he did) is what is affecting me the most.

I think it’s the delusional part.

I don’t think anybody has ever said anything so intentionally cruel to me …


Still waiting for the fat lady

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So, just to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am a complete fucking idiot, I am meeting with the pup today.

He sent me a text early this morning asking if I wanted to go halves with him getting high. I responded back that I had limited cash and couldn’t cover a half of anything … an hour or so later and he offered to put up the rest and then it kinda snowballed into a thing that is going to happen. It was meant to be happening an hour ago but I saw him at the park just a short while ago and he was only on his way out to pick up.

Now .. the thing about this is that exactly one week ago this exact same thing happened —- we got high, then drunk, then he bailed and left me climbing the walls and feeling abandoned.

There doesn’t seem to be a way to stop that scenario playing out the exact same way today/tonight.

I am shaking my head at myself and wondering exactly how many spankings it is going to take for me to stop doing this?


On being too much

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After a rather lovely weekend on valium, Monday is finally here.

Monday – where all the consequences of all the stupid stuff I have done over the past couple of weeks are going to land, hard.

I am not sure if I have the wherewithal to deal with what is already here, let alone what is coming.

The last 2 days have been a haze of benzos with intermittent research of how better to access a fatal artery because, I have tried to hit one of these 4/5 times in my life and (obviously) failed miserably. I am tired of failing.

Things are too far gone with me to contemplate starting over yet again. Because I know that I will pull myself up and try to build something only for it to be shot down at the first attachment that comes along. I am allergic to attachment .. it’s an actual thing I think. If there were awards for how to consistently fuck up relationships I would be a cause celebre’ … because I don’t learn. I never, ever learn.

I managed to convince myself that it was of vital importance that the pup not think I had self-harmed, I especially didn’t want him to think that I had self-harmed due to him. And, truth is, I didn’t. It wasn’t about him specifically, it was about allowing somebody in only to find, yet again, that even though he/they claimed constantly and sincerely to be completely into me, to want and adore me, to feel that there was ‘something about me’ drawing them in … when push came to reciprocation, he/they did not have my back.

I am perhaps being unfair to them all. I am perhaps needing for him/them to be able to do something they are not capable of. I know that having BPD makes my emotions run on nuclear level much of the time but I usually manage to hide this and I don’t ever ask for very much, I am usually far too terrified of putting people off to ask for much at all.  I was happy for the pup (for example) to bounce in and out of my life and it didn’t bother me that much where he was when he wasn’t with me. But his love bombing began to affect me and I began to wonder if perhaps this very damaged boy was a short-term answer — although, to what I am not sure.

So, I sent him a text yesterday … I told him I missed him a little and hoped he was doing OK. I was trying to act like all was OK, that any self-harm was not an issue . I think I wanted the shame of it all to be washed away. He called but the phone only rang once and that was that. A couple of hours later he sent the text saying that he hoped I was doing alright. Ouch.

Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.

I responded by making light of the ‘missing’ … he never responded to that.

Ouch.

I don’t even know what my feelings are in all of this. I don’t love him, I do know that. Perhaps he was just a small oasis in the loneliness of a new city and a life that isn’t worth much right now. But, I did need him to show me that he has or had my back when it counted.

He doesn’t.

It saddens me that this is the case, yet again. I am unused to struggling with the politics of this stuff as my previous relationships (well, most of them) didn’t have this back and forth, to and fro going on. I am used to meeting somebody, we click, we begin seeing each other and it explodes at some point. But the ex and now the pup have shown me that the ‘easy’ time of meeting/colliding and everybody being on the same page, at least in the beginning, are long gone. I don’t know if it is because I am older and less desirable or if things have just become more fucked up between men and women, or maybe I am just more fucked up.

I am also tired of well-meaning social workers, psychiatrists, psychologists, nurses etc telling me how special and wonderful I am … do they know how unconvincing and patronising it all sounds when coming from somebody who hasn’t a clue who you are?

I just know that I am not ‘wonderful’ enough to maintain someone’s interest enough for them to even care just a little bit about what happens to me … not once they are let in … I am unsure if that speaks volumes about me or about them but it’s volumey …


The Wild One

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My last post was brief but indicated the way my weekend/week was headed: triggered to hell and a hospital visit.

There were a bunch of drugs, a shitload of alcohol, and visits back and forth from the pup. And by Sunday I was not in a good space, abandonment shit had kicked into overdrive and I ended up getting drunk and being in contact with my ex .. who suggested I go and see him to get some benzos to calm down with.

This was possibly one of the worst ideas I have followed through with in .. well .. ever, but I went took the pills, became even more fucked up and then walked out of the ex’s place pre-emptively.

The next day or so are a blur of more alcohol, some very shitty decisions and a binge on crystal meth .. it’s been years since I touched that stuff and now I remember why.

That was on Tuesday and I spent the day with the pup on and off, he was coming and going and  triggering the hell out of me in doing so. His final departure was when his (female) roomie called and he quite literally jumped out of bed and left me here. I finished off the bottle of bourbon we had bought and cut open my wrist … I was too out of it to get to a hospital or anything until Thursday and I spent the whole day/night there as I had severed a tendon that was too deep for local and had to go under a general for surgery. I had a few hours of psych evals and lied to assure them that it had not been a suicide attempt and that I am under the care of a private psychiatrist, she is just away right at this minute.

The pup called while I was waiting for theatre, but didn’t seem too concerned that I was and he was completely out of it — he turned up yesterday for a few minutes and proceeded to fill me in on the previous 2 days since I had seen him: he has not slept in 3 days, he had managed to piss off yet another person who drew a knife at some point (!!) and he was wired and out of control. I loaded him up with some Valium I had managed to get from a GP before I hit the hospital (no chance of getting them there without admittance) .. in fact, I am pretty sure that was the only reason he came over.

He asked me about my arm (nicely stitched and bandaged by that time) and then when I began to make excuses, he said something along the lines of it being my business …

It couldn’t be clearer that he just cannot take on board anything that is not directly feeding his completely out of control addictions. He is fired from jobs every week but is lucky enough to find work as his industry is in high demand .. he starts a new job, gets fired again, usually for either turning up drunk or drinking on the job.

On Tuesday, we sat for a few hours and had a really good talk about life and what he hopes to do and this is a person who has been so incredibly loving and sweet for all of this time .. until he pulls back and just .. isn’t anymore.

On Tuesday, I asked him to stay. I didn’t beg or plead or make a scene, I just needed him to stay. And fact is, he couldn’t even give me that. His path is even more self-destructive than mine and all I can do is stand aside and let him live it. I have seen and been involved with some very self-destructive men in my time but this boy is above and beyond anything I have experienced because it is every single day, non-stop. I don’t really understand how he isn’t dead or in hospital to be honest, he pisses people off wherever he goes and he fills his body with whatever is handy all day every day.

When he was going yesterday, he was talking about self-harm and said that he didn’t get it. Then he said he hurt other people rather than himself although, he ‘cuts himself on the inside every single day’.

I wonder where the boy who wanted to lie for hours and tell me how much he liked me has gone .. I wonder why even though this ‘thing’ of ours is more-than doomed, it feels like the end of the world that he doesn’t love me. Most of all, I wonder what it is about me that excites men in the short-term but doesn’t last … the very second i start to feel attached, even though they have usually dragged me to that point, they pull away.

Like my ex, the pup isn’t capable of loving anything but his own preoccupations, I just wish that I could take that on board and that it wasn’t so important to me.

I have a brand new scar now, my second for the year. I don’t know how many stitches and it doesn’t matter other than when the bandage comes off and everyone will see, will be able to count the exact amount of just deep my attachment tendencies are killing me.