Financially drained relationship ends badly, and some questions.

[redmoon]

Here is my story about my bad breakup, and some venting as well, I guess. I’m hoping I can fit this whole thing in, so yeah, sorry if it’s kind of long and a little drawn out. Thanks for reading!

 

 

I should start with the ex. I met Sheila (different name, Oh, Oh, Sheeeeila!) while I was renting out an apartment around three years ago. At the time she was thirty-nine and I was thirty. One day Sheila and her father moved in directly below me from out of state, and we became friends soon after. As our friendship became closer she confided in me that she was miserable living with her father, for she said he was controlling and generally mean spirited. She said she needed to leave his apartment at any cost.

 

Well, I thought, here’s me with this two bedroom apartment with a free room, so why not? So I asked her if she wanted to stay with me until she found out what to do, and she agreed. Fast forward a couple of weeks: We are still living together and we start to become flirty and she says she is attracted to me, and I say the same. Oh yeah, you know where this is going! We started dating while living together, and soon after we became a couple living together.

 

A couple of months later Sheila found a job at a pizza joint working part time 10-20 hours a week. I was paying for most of the food, rent, bills, while she was financially helping out some and kept some of the cash from her work. I was happy and we were happy, and it was working out. We enjoyed her each other’s company and she even liked my friends.

 

Around six months later she got fired though. This was when things heated up a little bit between us. We lived in a pretty big flourishing town and it became apparent to me that she wasn’t really putting much effort in finding a job anymore. She was working a lot on her art, which was fine and all, but it was becoming increasingly hard for me to provide for the both of us, especially if we wanted to be able to save money at all.

 

Even by myself, without anyone else to support, I have a hard time saving up anything substantial, and now the two of us were living paycheck to paycheck. I didn’t like it. Nevertheless, we never really had a serious conversation about it until one night it blew up when we had one of those intense arguments. It was mainly about the financial situation but then it turned to if I truly loved her. I said I did but she ended up saying that maybe we should break up and that she should move out. Thinking that she was breaking up with me right then and there I, let’s say, jumped the gun and I lost my temper. I told her if that’s what she wanted then she should to pack up her things now and leave right then and there. I tried to kick her out of her own home, which was bad.

 

Maybe I didn’t mean it, wait no, I probably did. But surely I would have not let it completely happen; that’s true. Maybe I wanted her to realize, in a bizarre case of passive-aggressiveness, that if she left she would have nothing material without me. No car and little money, no home, and no family in the area. But the reality was that she definitely had a home indeed, and she’d been living there for quite a long time. Even in the legal sense was kicking her out wrong. But it never came close to that anyways.

 

Sheila was fuming that I could be so blunt and unforgiving, and then she probably took it as a sign that I didn’t love her as well. When I told her to leave she stated (and rightly so) that she wasn’t going to go anywhere, and threatened to call the police if I tried to make her. Well, I came to my senses then, and my mind came around so to speak. We eventually ended up talking like two reasonable adults and came to the agreement that we both wanted to split up and we would give each other a month to figure out what to do.

 

The next day when I got back to the apartment a lot of her stuff was gone. I thought wow. This girl does not mess around! I remember that I was relieved though, but also worried about her. Worried about where she was staying, and everything else, but I didn’t call.

 

It’s hard to remember if I wanted to or planned on calling. But it was to no one’s fault, as she called the next night saying that she was staying at our mutual friend’s studio apartment on the couch, and that she couldn’t handle it there. I could feel she was desperate. I would have been desperate too. So I apologized and we both told each other that we missed and loved each other and I picked her up and took her back home. I would find out later she would never forgive me for threatening to kick her out that night.

 

One year later, was everything well and good? Well sometimes yes and sometimes not I think. At this point she wasn’t looking for a job anymore and it sometimes it nagged at the back of my head that I paid for everything and gave her spending money while we lived paycheck to paycheck. There were times when I felt like I was being used and that it was a mistake that we moved in together so quickly. I should say that Sheila is a very nice person, and I gave her money because I believed I loved her as my SO, and I wanted her to be happy, we all know that money is important. Because of this I kept my uncomfortable feelings mainly to myself, and also for not wanting another blowup. I felt there was an unspoken tension and I thought she must have felt it as well. I sure did.

 

Around this time she started talking about getting disability payments for a mental illness. Sheila is diagnosed with schizophrenia. This may be crazy you may think! But to me and to most of everyone she knew it’s not a big deal. To me the illness seemed mild (whatever that means), and she was on a good medication that she thought worked well with her. She saw her doctor and her therapist on a regular basis. I didn’t have a problem with it as I saw no problem with it.

 

So she talked to her therapist and later a social worker and said that she could apply and probably receive $600-$900 a month after being paid an upfront sum of $1000-$3000 due to her back taxes, social security and such. I said go for it. I helped her with acquiring all the lost paper work (especially hard when trying to receive documents from a hospital in Puerto Rico that had burned down to the ground and didn’t exist anymore), and helped with dealing with all the different government agencies and meetings and such. These things can take many months.

 

While this was going on I received a large family inheritance of sorts, and I decided to acquire a condo in the middle of town. We moved in soon after and everything was going relatively well for a couple of months. And with no more rent and no mortgage, only the HOA fees and regular bills, all of our previous financial troubles had vanished. She was also confidant she would receive her disability payments soon. Things were looking on the up and up, or so it seemed.

 

One day when I stepped out on the deck by myself with the laptop so I could enjoy a bit of sunshine and fresh air. I went back in after a while and soon after I realized that Sheila was gone. But she hadn’t said that she was going anywhere. I called out her name again and went up stairs to our bedroom to check, then the other bedroom, where I found that our biggest rolling suitcase was gone from the open closet, along with one of our big backpacking packs. I went into our room and saw that a lot of her clothes were gone too.

 

At once I knew what had happened, and my mind started reeling. After more than two years how could she leave without a word? After all I did for her. Its madness! I remember thinking. And I was mad! It was obvious that she had recently received her disability payments and she kept it secret from me. What other secrets were there? What else was she keeping from me? Is there a secret man in her life? She is attractive, what if, what if? Maybe she flipped out? WTF? I was sad and angry and distraught.

 

I called her like ten times and I emailed and texted her as well, but no answer. I called all my friends and none of them had heard from her. I spent the next couple of days with our mutual friend (the one with the studio apartment she stayed at earlier). We both called her and we left messages saying that we were worried and to get in touch, if not only to say she was in a safe place or something. She didn’t call back.

 

At the time, I was angry that she had a complete disregard to how I was feeling. And I had no way to come to a closure without speaking to her, so I called her almost everyday. This went on for around a week when our mutual friend called me to say he had spoken to her on the phone. Right after she left she took a taxi, hopped on a plane, and took it all the way completely across the country to the other coast. She had indeed received her disability payments and he said that now she was renting a car and a staying in a motel while looking for an apartment. I had thought this was likely, and the information was of no real surprise, and it certainly didn’t change how I was felt.

 

I know that I should have just let it go, but I felt like I needed to know why she did it, why she left without one word, not even a single look in the eye. Well, a couple nights later she miraculously answered the phone. I didn’t expect it. She told me where she was and she seemed calm. I asked her why she left without communicating with me. She paused for a moment before accusing me of being a mean and angry person, that I had been controlling and that I had been emotionally abusing her. And about that time when I threatened to kick her out: how could I have done that, it hurt her so much. I was taken aback. This was the last thing I was expecting. It felt like a mean joke was being played on me. I asked her to explain what she was talking about, but I soon became angry and told her that she was lying, so she hung up.

 

I thought she was being delusional, or something similar, so I spent some hours researching emotional abuse in relationships online. It can be very serious indeed, but I couldn’t see myself using it, even mildly, let alone in full force. I emailed her a letter with some info on emotional abuse and wrote further that I thought that she was saying this because she thought she had made bad judgments recently, and she now regrets them. I stated that I thought she was lying about the abuse so she could make herself feel better about hurting me, and by doing that she was only hurting me more. I’m guessing now that at the time I wasn’t too sure if was my letter was exactly true or not. The allegations of abuse: certainly not. I never received a reply.

 

I tried to forget about her after that, and I didn’t try to contact her, but there was always something in the back of mind how disturbing this all was to me. It went on for five months when last week a friend called me to say that she was back in town and had been staying with the same guy as earlier for a few days now (the one with the studio apartment).

 

I thought hard about what this new revelation meant in reality. I came to the conclusion that one thing was certainly for sure. Right or wrong, I was certain that I was genuinely pissed off that she could be so pompous as to show her face around here with no regard to who I was.

 

One of the things some people would say to me, when I confided in them about all this was, “Sheila is her own person, and she can do whatever she wants to do.” Yes, I know and I understand. And they are right. I shouldn’t care about her anymore. I know it’s time for me to move on boy, I know I need her out of my head, just get over it, yes I know I’m a good guy and there are plenty of fish out in the sea, blah...blah...blah!

 

None of that stuff mattered anymore. I was pissed! I had NOT moved on and I was NOT over her, obviously! Was I angry? OBVIOUSLY! I could hardly relax and calm myself down before sitting down and working on a plan, a devious plan. A plan of cold retribution and revenge, but also of deep passion and intrigue…. Okay, okay, cut. cut. Okay, if anyone is actually reading this that’s one thing, but if you’re thinking holy ***k this guy is bat***t crazy, well, then I have to say that you are to correct. Wait a sec. Did I say that right? All right now, all right. ((chill out)) The truth is it wasn’t that bad and I wasn’t that mad. Very well then, I think I’m good now.

 

But still, I was angry, but I knew I didn’t love her anymore (and maybe I never really did, which is confusing), in fact, I couldn’t stand the thought of her. Why would I care about her (me being angry towards her) if I don’t care about her (me caring). That doesn’t make sense and that is confusing as well.

 

And another thing, I’m pretty sure I’m not telepathic, yeah duh, but in my mind I convinced myself that somehow I knew exactly what she was thinking right then. In my mind I knew she thought that I would “save” her again and that she could easily just waltz back into my life. I was also sure that she was planning it all right then and there: was I was privy that she was in town, when should she call me, what if I was still mad, what would she have to say to seal the deal, what if this, what if that, etc. How ignorant I thought. I wanted her to understand that I’m not a stupid moron. Of course I wasn’t going to be her “whatever” whom she could leave without a word whenever she wanted. I could see right through it all. Well, I knew that there was one sure way to prove her wrong. Don’t call her and don’t answer the phone if she calls, right?

 

Yeah I know, but nope! I still wanted my selfish little version of fake retribution. I planned to lull her into a full sense of security by inviting her into my life again with expressions of love. Then I would dump her. I even knew exactly how long it would take in my mind, have fun for two weeks and then boom!

 

I called her the very next day and she answered almost immediately. We talked normally almost like friends, and I eventually asked her if she wanted to hang out. I picked her up a few hours later and brought her back to my home. The car ride was uneventful apart from her asking me if I was still angry at her, of which I lied and said no, and she said that we would talk about it soon.

 

At home we chit chatted about this and that with small talk and ate dinner together. She told me she hadn’t met anyone since and I said the same. At times I felt like I didn’t know her, as if I had just met her. Kind of like that embarrassing feeling when you spill a little bit of spaghetti sauce on your shirt while on a first date, but it was as if it was constantly happening, and there was no sauce, or spaghetti either!

 

Things were definitely getting weird, but after dinner we went upstairs and had a bout of passionate sex. It was after the sex that I started second guessing my plans in a real manner. I quickly realized that I couldn’t play out this horrible game out to its sick end. So I offered that we go out and rent a few movies and get a few snacks and drinks, and then grab her stuff so she could move in that night. In the parking lot at our friend’s place I told her that I didn’t want to see him and I would wait in the car while she got her things together. I saw her walk up the stairs, around the corner, and poof I took off!

 

She called me an hour later but I didn’t answer it. Then it rang sometime again, and I answered with, “How does it feel, Sheila?” To when she said, “So that was some sort dirty joke or something?” I remember hearing that her voice was crackling but I still replied meanly, “You played a dirty joke on ME, Sheila!” Then I hung up. Everything had now had boiled down to childish pettiness.

 

Two days later, and two days ago from now, I got a call from our mutual friend saying that while he was out Sheila had left his apartment, taking all her stuff without a word. He tried calling her but her phone says it’s been disconnected. Well, that’s that then I guess.

To tell you the truth, the actions of me trying to “get back at her” made me feel better actually, like I released a lot of stress or something. And I don’t really don’t feel guilty about it, but know I probably should.

 

And it seems I have anger problems, I’ve thought as much for a while, and I probably need to address that. I don’t want to be a person who can’t control their anger of course. I’ve never been though something this bad in a relationship before. But I don’t think it was horrible bad, or even bad bad, but it did get pretty weird. I’m sure there are other people who have been through much crazier things.

 

After the breakup my obsessive thoughts and actions really surprised me. I called her a lot, and it did get weird there for a while. I hope I don’t take it to being this obsessive in future relationships, that’s for sure. It felt horrible to obsess like that over something that really wasn’t there. And it went on for a quite sometime it seemed.

 

Communication breakdown: Most everyone says it’s true that communication is crucial for a healthy relationship. It’s true, and don’t think it’s just a coincidence that everyone is right about while in actuality it’s true at the same time. If you feel you’re not communicating well with your loved one, at least try. Because if something goes wrong you will probably look back and say, “Damn, I wish we had communicated better.” I sure wish we did. When it came to me personally, I should have communicated to her that we needed to communicate. If anything we might have at least been able to have our breakup in a reasonable and respectable manner.

 

On the issue of schizophrenia (and on the disability payments), I am no expert at all to say the least, and I have conflicted thoughts on this complicated issue. On a serious note: some people may think that because of her illness I could have been taking advantage of her either sexually or emotionally or both. No, I don’t think so. What I do know is this: I know that if someone is a nice person to spend time with, who you can have fun with, and that same person is someone who you can share good feelings and thoughts with, well then yeah, that someone is good in my book, and probably good in your book too. Sheila and I shared many good and loving experiences together. If her illness played a role or it didn’t, or if it was the sole reason for her leaving like that: how could you or I ever know the real truth about it? I can’t, although I admit I never asked her if it did.

 

About the financial issues: Has anyone been through something similar? I’m guessing that a good marriage can even feel the strain of something similar to that. I may have seemed a little cold hearted about it and I feel like it played a substantial part in our bad breakup. I realize I wouldn’t want it to happen again. Especially to someone I love. I’ve had my share of relationships, but in looking back the financial situation has been making me second guess if my love for her was “true love”, like, if I really did love her how could I have let our financial problems get in the way? Real love should rise above material matters, right?

 

But what is love anyways? It probably means different things to different people I guess. Maybe sometimes I use the word in a context pertaining to Hollywood films or something, because all this can seem a bit wishy-washy to me when I look at it from certain sides. Side note: If you’re having doubts to how old I really am, probably because what Sheila and I did seemed so childish, I really am a real grown up, I promise. Just kidding!

 

Anyways, I feel like I’ve gotten something off my chest now, so at least that’s good. And if you have actually managed to arrive right around here: Thank you for reading! And if you managed to read the whole story (I know I rambled on and on a lot), then yeah, you are really awesome. It felt good to write this up and put it up for anyone to see. I feel better already, and that’s what life is all about sometimes - trying your best to feel good!

[TheyCallMeOx]

Thanks for the story. I have to comment on the money issue with my personal experience.

 

I used to believe that if you really loved someone, you'd be willing to do anything for that person: this includes setting aside your issues of money, and accepting the possibility of going through some kind of lower standard of living. If I had to, I would've been homeless with my ex-girlfriend. I felt that as long as we were together, I didn't care what happened. My ex-girlfriend and I were in completely different motivated levels. I wasn't concerned about my future as much as she was. She had doubts about our relationships because she claims to know what she's going to do for the rest of her life, and she doesn't want anyone bringing her down. She felt that I wouldn't change, and that I'd end up bringing her down. I'd latch onto her financially and she wouldn't be able to be her full potential if she were to stay with me.

 

She says that it wouldn't have really mattered what kind of job I did as long as I was achieving my dreams. She would've made more sacrifices had she felt that I was strong and independent. If I felt that being a grocery manager was my dream, and I achieved it, then she may have been able to accept that. However, I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life and wouldn't do anything. As a result, even if I became a grocery manager...she knows that it wouldn't have been what I really wanted, and therefore I lacked any sort of direction.

 

It's not so much the money, it's the motivation behind it. I guess that's a motherly instinct kind of thing; you can't have kids with a dude when you feel like the dude is going to say "today, hun, I just don't feel like taking care of the kids. Let's drop them off at the park all day, and you and I will go to the movies."

 

I understand her reasoning now but at the time I thought that she was a selfish person and really didn't love me. However, it makes me feel a little bit better that maybe she did love me and had a rough time getting over me as well. I'll never know that for sure, though.

 

Have you considered blogging? If writing helps you feel good, then you should write more often. I blog, and it feels good to get things off my chest.

[redmoon]

Let me first say thank you for giving me your insight and experience.

 

Our experiences overlap in many ways.

 

I am imagining here how many countless happy and forever lasting marriages were born into poverty, and to their last happy days ended in poverty. This is not necessarily depressing, it is reassuring that poverty does not have the power to break true love!

 

You are very right that it is the motivation that matters. This was the crux for me. She felt content to not be motivated to help with a situation that I thought needed to be helped. I saw that she didn’t care and it disturbed me and this must have impacted our relationship.

 

I am confused to exactly how I felt about whether I mainly wanted her to find a job to make her happy or to make me happy. It became obvious early on that she didn’t want to pursue a career (she has a college degree) or find a job. This wouldn’t make her happy or not as she felt completely comfortable about me paying for everything and giving her spending money to boot.

 

So I would have to admit (for the first year or so) I was pressuring her to find a job mainly for my benefit. I know at some point I was feeling used and I hated the thought of it. That feeling went on for a long time, and some part of me wanted her to do something for her self to prove me wrong that she wasn’t with me only for my material support. I guess my love wasn’t strong enough then. Or maybe I got played.

 

Is it a coincidence that she left exactly when she received her disability payments, when my material support wasn’t needed anymore? Or was it something else? I guess I’ll never know.

 

On the blog: I was spending time on one a few years back and maybe I should get back into it. Thanks!