(no subject)
I'm currently in the throes of a deep depression and on prednisone so I don't know if this is the reason, but holy shit I cannot stop ruminating on bullshit. Particularly the grillboy bullshit. And i'm still fucking angry. I've been trying to hold back on the ranting because lord knows my friends and family have heard it a million times, but I swear every day I think of more and more stupid and uncouth shit that he said and did. And I get pissed off all over again. THIS HAPPENED WITHIN THREE WEEKS. THREE WEEKS. And this is like, enough shit to fit into a three year relationship. I will never stop being in awe of that. Who knew one person could be so completely and cartoonishly garbage?
Maybe if I make a list of everything I can think of it'll help me sort out my anger. I don't know. If anything, i'll be spewing my vitriol here instead of bitching to my friends and family again at least. This is going to be all over the place because, seeing as it's now 4 months later, my timelines are even more fucked up. So, starting from the top:
I actually don't even know if I mentioned this here before, but it's the only two slightly funny-in-a-kind-of-horrifying-way stories in this whole dumpster fire and both of them happened the first two times I hung out with him. The first time, I had actually gotten him confused for a different dude (who I remember was actually really cool and I remembered and liked hanging out with him). I didn't realize this until like, a few hours before I was going to hang out with grillboy, and was slightly freaking out because I only very, VERY vaguely remembered him. I know I met him through either S, our friend Erich, or our friend Ashley. Most likely at a random get-together so it's definitely a possibility that all of them were there at the same time. I seriously don't remember but he insists that we met at college, despite the fact that I left in 2008 and never went back there after dropping out, and he didn't even go there until like, 2011 or 2012. It definitely was not in college, as evidenced by the fact that he had no idea what The Table was, and unless I have a doppelganger that decided to go back to college 3-4 years later, that's fucking impossible. But I digress. On with the story.
So i'm kind of freaking out before leaving to hang out with him because he's essentially a complete stranger. I go to meet up with him and thankfully nothing really bad happened, but I discovered very quickly that he had just dropped acid. So that was incredibly irritating because he wasn't listening to anything I was saying but kept interrupting me to ramble about himself (oh wait, he didn't need acid for that anyway! My bad), we went to get food and he was darting around and paranoid and it was just. Ugh. Super offputting. I think I actually had to order food *for* him because he was too fucked up to even comprehend the menu. I think he sort of started sobering up when we got to the karaoke bar, but still. It was awkward and I was already annoyed.
What's worse is that he apparently considered it a date (I most definitely did not)and like...how fucking pathetic and rude do you have to be to think dropping acid before a date is cool? Especially at age 28. Like, the sheer force of the stunted maturity is staggering. Did you take a wrong turn and get lost on your way to middle school, grillboy? Because last time I checked, i'm an adult. I haven't been 14 in awhile and to my knowledge I didn't step into a time machine when I drove over to meet up with you, but that's the only explanation as to why you would think dropping acid before what you considered a "date" was acceptable. Oh yeah, and he kept offering me some, which I declined about 10-15 times before he finally fucking stopped offering it to me. But whatever.
Anyway, afterwards we went to his place to hang out and smoke with his roommate. Well, when we got there he went to go change his shirt, and while he was putting on his t-shirt he was going on about how all of his ex-girlfriends had wanted to steal that particular shirt because it smelled like him. Then he comes over to me and goes "here, smell". I *was* expecting that kind of slightly musky with a hint of cologne or deodorant dude smell. You know, standard "not super pleasant but not bad, sort of comforting if it's your boyfriend" guy smell. Holy fucking dicks was I mistaken. The stench radiating off that shirt was indescribable. It immediately went down my throat and hit my gag reflex, then permeated my sinuses to the point that my fucking eyeballs could smell it. Honestly it was so bad that I think even my ears could smell it. I'm pretty sure it could become sentient and possess someone to do its bidding. If you bottled it, it would be considered a chemical weapon. It was literally that bad. Like, I don't think that shirt had ever been washed and i'm shocked that it wasn't disintegrating from the sheer amount of bacteria that was no doubt crawling around on it. It could probably be considered more of a petri dish than a shirt at that point. I don't think i'm exaggerating when I say that either, because one time, he did say that he never washes his jeans unless he spills something on them that's obvious. Protip: that's incredibly disgusting. I shouldn't be concerned about getting a staph infection from your clothing. Do your goddamn laundry and please get your olfactory glands checked because they are clearly not working properly, you nasty, stinking bitch.
Oh but the olfactory assault and annoyingly inappropriate drug use doesn't stop there! Oh no. That brings me to the *second* time we hung out. Which, again, he considered to be a date and I did not. We pretty much did the same thing as the last time, but the place we went for food was super crowded so we just got it to go and were going to go back to his place to eat it. And I was fucking starving because I hadn't eaten since about 2pm that day and it was around 8. Well, we get there and i'm waiting for him to sit down to eat because it's super awkward to just start eating when i'm the only one stuffing my face. He's taking forever already, then he tells me he's going to do some coke with his roommate's mom (who also lived there). Bitch WTF. He goes and does a few lines and then comes out about 15 minutes later. So I decide i'm going to just fucking eat because i'm sick of waiting, but I need a fork for my salad so I asked him to grab me one. He goes into the kitchen and starts talking to his roommate, which is again taking forever and i'm actually getting pissed off. So I go into the kitchen and ask where the forks are. To which he just keeps babbling incoherently about nothing. Then he starts touching my back (I was wearing an off-the-shoulder top) and looking for zits and blackheads to pop which...motherfucker get your hands off me. I decide to just give up and go eat the sandwich part of my food since it didn't require any utensils and he's utterly useless, but as soon as I turned around he starts touching my fucking FACE and looking for blackheads and zits to pop. I tell him to knock it the fuck off and stop touching my face and he looks super confused by this. Whatever. So I go and eat my food, and i'm pretty sure his stupid coked-out ass forgot that he even had food because I don't think he even ate his until way later. Which brings me to the horrifically humorous part of this story.
He finally comes down and we go to watch youtube videos in his room, which, we had *kind of* similar humor. I like vines and a pretty good amount of really dumb humor, and he did too, but where we differ is that i'm not into the kind of gross-out edgy humor that's specifically targeted towards 12-16 year old boys. He made me watch like two 10-20 minute videos of that sort that were really gross, stupid, and not funny, but before that, when I was showing him a video that I had found, this happened. I can *still* fucking smell this. To preface, it was still summer weather so the room was really hot and stuffy, and he didn't have a fan or air conditioner or anything. He was laying down on his bed (which was actually just a grungy mattress on the floor), and I was sitting on the side of it, not laying down. So he was behind me. Well, he was wearing jeans but he had basketball shorts on underneath them (off topic and unimportant-to-the-story side note, I fucking hate basketball shorts. They're hideous and on par with crocs). So he takes his jeans off, and while he's in the process of doing so, all of a sudden I catch a whiff of this sharp, gross smell that was wafting toward me. It kind of smelled like a platter of warm cheese stuffed into an unwashed asshole that had been left out in the sun by a dumpster for a few days. And I quickly realized that the smell was radiating off of HIM. Oh, no. That's strikes 5-20 right there. And to top it off, about 10 minutes later he kept trying to get me to lay down with him. While i'm trying not to gag and throw up. Like, you have some fucking nerve flirting with me and trying to get me to cuddle with you while smelling like THAT. Showers, deodorant, and washing machines are a thing that exist. Utilize them.
I think the point where I fucked up was when he messaged me a couple days or so later and was like "hey it's cool if you don't like me like that, we can just be friends." I seriously can't believe I fucking fell right into that trap. I knew what he was doing but I brushed it off because stupid me wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. He even fucking admitted that he "knew I would come around eventually" at one point after I slept with him a few times, so he was pretty much just playing up the nice guy act, telling me what I wanted to hear to manipulate me and get what he wanted. I really can't believe I fell for it. But I NEVER wanted to be in a relationship with him. I made it fucking clear that I was done with relationships because I was sick of them, but in his mind, of course he didn't believe I was serious. Because you know, he's just such a "great guy" that obviously he would be the exception 🙄 ugh. Motherfucker, there's a reason I never introduced you to anyone as my boyfriend. If you paid attention (which i'm pretty sure you did because I remember you making a bitchy little comment about how you "didn't get" why I wasn't calling you my boyfriend yet) I always introduced you as "my FRIEND, grillboy." You were never my boyfriend or "my man", you were a friend with benefits at best. Just because we fucked and I let you crash at my place, which you took complete advantage of, does not mean that it was a relationship. And if you *wanted* it to be, then you should have fucking talked to me about it instead of just deciding that we were. And I still would have turned you down, because, AS I CLEARLY STATED EVEN BEFORE I STARTED FLIRTING BACK, I did not want to get into another relationship. Me being horny and enjoying cuddles doesn't equal "omgee i need a BF". Me being accomodating and doing nice things for you and fucking you does not mean we're suddenly dating. Like, why the fuck would I want to commit to someone that I don't even like kissing? That's a huge thing for me. I hated kissing you, especially the first time because I just remember that smug, self-satisfied little grin on your face afterward, and I knew I fucked up even though I was stumbling drunk. I tried to avoid it as much as I could. You are a fucking twat and you weren't special. If College Dude had hit me up again in that time, I still would have slept with him again. At least he never pretended to be a fucking white knight to manipulate me into fucking him. Sure, he said some transparent "I was stupid to let you go and got scared" shit, but he never pretended to be anything besides who he actually is as a person. He's obviously far from perfect but at least he didn't have to bait me into being attracted to him.
And like, seriously, how fucking narcissistic and cocky do you have to be to actually believe that you had that much stake in my life or that I really gave two fucks about what you thought about me? Especially in that short amount of time. You seriously started showing your ass after I kissed you, so thanks for that. I regret that I slept with you at all, but hey, at least you don't fall in the ex-boyfriend category. I would have regretted having an actual relationship with you even more, so i'm glad I bounced as soon as you really, fully showed what a selfish, narcissistic, manipulative piece of shit you are. And yeah, I should have ditched out even sooner. I should have dropped your ass out of my life the day I told you that I felt weird after we had sex and wanted to wait and you got all pouty, mopey and defensive about it.
I'm still fucked up from you "making love"to me by the way, so i'll send my therapist your regards when I set up an appointment. I can't cry, i'm repulsed by (hetero) sex, and now my trust issues have multiplied a hundredfold. So thanks. I appreciate the trauma, really. Didn't realize "making love" was supposed to be traumatizing and involve sobbing on the bathroom floor with the door locked right after, and not wanting to get back in bed because the thought of being touched by you again literally made me feel sick to my stomach, but wow, you learn something new every day I guess. I thought sex was supposed to be two clearly consenting adults that are actually into it and respect each other enough to discuss condoms, what they're into beforehand, and that like, ask before just fucking their partner and assuming they want it. Boy was I mistaken. Hell, I didn't even know that saying "ow" and "it hurts" and trying to pull away were expressions of pleasure. Trying to make yourself mentally disengage and going completely silent and still must be like, the ultimate expression of pleasure then. Wow, silly me with my notions of sex that like, actually feels good for both people and isn't completely one-sided where they actually respect each other and don't just assume that it's a-okay to just creampie someone without consent. I had it all wrong. Whoopsie-doodles.
Oh god, and ANOTHER thing regarding his delusion that he was a huge fixture in my life pretty much immediately that totally pissed me off. So, I don't remember the timeframe, whether it was before or after we fucked, but this one time he noticed the scars on my wrist...which, I should mention the ones that are still visible and not going away, are at the oldest ten or eleven years old, and the most recent one is about 7 years old. So they're not recent, they don't have anything to do with him and really aren't any of his fucking business. I have them, I did it to myself, it's whatever at this point. But oooh...so this one time he saw the scars on my wrist, grabbed my arm and said "this upsets me." Um...hi? I barely fucking know you so who are you to be upset over something that I did to myself years ago, that are part of MY past that you were not in any way, shape or form involved with? It's not your fucking place to be upset over me self-harming, even if I had been doing it that recently. Shut the fuck up and keep your stupid fucking fakey-concerned comments to yourself. It's my body, and for the record, I don't regret any of my scars. I never have. You have no fucking right to be upset over them for me. At all.
And honestly that's fucking rich coming from you since you don't even have a basic understanding of how mental illness works. The only reason you would have any concern over my anxiety, depression or self-harm is because it might inconvenience you, or so you could play White Knight to use it as a bargaining chip against me later. FUCK. YOU.
And when you said we would "work on my anxiety together" after the panic attack THAT YOU CAUSED AND ACTIVELY MADE *WORSE*, you can go fuck a railroad spike wrapped in barbed wire, you fucking ignorant, patronizing sack of rotting dog shit. You didn't even have a basic understanding of my anxiety or how to handle it. I've lived with it for years, i've figured out coping mechanisms ON MY OWN, and it's extremely apparent that I have a way better grasp of mental illness and how it works than you do because you're still operating under the dumbfuck 12 year old idea that "love" can somehow cure anxiety or depression or anything. I mean, you honestly thought that "love" was going to cure your ex-girlfriend's heroin addiction and got butthurt because she chose heroin over your "love". Like, you are utterly clueless. So you somehow being so egotistical to think that I needed your help? Fuck off. I never did, and I didn't want your "help" either. Like, first of all, how could you possibly help when you don't even know what anxiety actually IS or have a basic understanding of how it affects people? You're very obviously one of those people that thinks that depression=getting the Sads sometimes :C and anxiety=I sometimes get nervous before a test :C and then you conflate all of that with ptsd because *you* have that so to you that's the only mental illness that truly exists and is the only source of any other mental illness that's plausible. And you can't even handle your OWN mental illness!! Like holy shit. Newsflash, self medicating by smoking yourself stupid and frying (whatever is left of) your brain with regular acid use IS NOT DEALING WITH OR " FIXING" YOUR MENTAL ILLNESS. Do you have any idea how fucking stupid you sounded trying to tell me that "I shouldn't be anxious because i'm with 'my man'"? Lolll. Way to deflect the fact that you have no respect for boundaries and can't handle the word "no". That's a you problem. Also the fact that you were never "my man" adds to the stupidity even more so congrats on being a complete clown. You wanted to try and make me feel guilty for "making you look like a fool" and "embarrassing you" but like, you're great at that on your own. You don't need any help from me on that front. Me calling you out on it is just that, you handle the "making yourself look like a complete jackass" thing just fine on your own. Perhaps you should consider joining the circus and changing your name to Grillboy the One Man Shitshow.
Maybe if I make a list of everything I can think of it'll help me sort out my anger. I don't know. If anything, i'll be spewing my vitriol here instead of bitching to my friends and family again at least. This is going to be all over the place because, seeing as it's now 4 months later, my timelines are even more fucked up. So, starting from the top:
I actually don't even know if I mentioned this here before, but it's the only two slightly funny-in-a-kind-of-horrifying-way stories in this whole dumpster fire and both of them happened the first two times I hung out with him. The first time, I had actually gotten him confused for a different dude (who I remember was actually really cool and I remembered and liked hanging out with him). I didn't realize this until like, a few hours before I was going to hang out with grillboy, and was slightly freaking out because I only very, VERY vaguely remembered him. I know I met him through either S, our friend Erich, or our friend Ashley. Most likely at a random get-together so it's definitely a possibility that all of them were there at the same time. I seriously don't remember but he insists that we met at college, despite the fact that I left in 2008 and never went back there after dropping out, and he didn't even go there until like, 2011 or 2012. It definitely was not in college, as evidenced by the fact that he had no idea what The Table was, and unless I have a doppelganger that decided to go back to college 3-4 years later, that's fucking impossible. But I digress. On with the story.
So i'm kind of freaking out before leaving to hang out with him because he's essentially a complete stranger. I go to meet up with him and thankfully nothing really bad happened, but I discovered very quickly that he had just dropped acid. So that was incredibly irritating because he wasn't listening to anything I was saying but kept interrupting me to ramble about himself (oh wait, he didn't need acid for that anyway! My bad), we went to get food and he was darting around and paranoid and it was just. Ugh. Super offputting. I think I actually had to order food *for* him because he was too fucked up to even comprehend the menu. I think he sort of started sobering up when we got to the karaoke bar, but still. It was awkward and I was already annoyed.
What's worse is that he apparently considered it a date (I most definitely did not)and like...how fucking pathetic and rude do you have to be to think dropping acid before a date is cool? Especially at age 28. Like, the sheer force of the stunted maturity is staggering. Did you take a wrong turn and get lost on your way to middle school, grillboy? Because last time I checked, i'm an adult. I haven't been 14 in awhile and to my knowledge I didn't step into a time machine when I drove over to meet up with you, but that's the only explanation as to why you would think dropping acid before what you considered a "date" was acceptable. Oh yeah, and he kept offering me some, which I declined about 10-15 times before he finally fucking stopped offering it to me. But whatever.
Anyway, afterwards we went to his place to hang out and smoke with his roommate. Well, when we got there he went to go change his shirt, and while he was putting on his t-shirt he was going on about how all of his ex-girlfriends had wanted to steal that particular shirt because it smelled like him. Then he comes over to me and goes "here, smell". I *was* expecting that kind of slightly musky with a hint of cologne or deodorant dude smell. You know, standard "not super pleasant but not bad, sort of comforting if it's your boyfriend" guy smell. Holy fucking dicks was I mistaken. The stench radiating off that shirt was indescribable. It immediately went down my throat and hit my gag reflex, then permeated my sinuses to the point that my fucking eyeballs could smell it. Honestly it was so bad that I think even my ears could smell it. I'm pretty sure it could become sentient and possess someone to do its bidding. If you bottled it, it would be considered a chemical weapon. It was literally that bad. Like, I don't think that shirt had ever been washed and i'm shocked that it wasn't disintegrating from the sheer amount of bacteria that was no doubt crawling around on it. It could probably be considered more of a petri dish than a shirt at that point. I don't think i'm exaggerating when I say that either, because one time, he did say that he never washes his jeans unless he spills something on them that's obvious. Protip: that's incredibly disgusting. I shouldn't be concerned about getting a staph infection from your clothing. Do your goddamn laundry and please get your olfactory glands checked because they are clearly not working properly, you nasty, stinking bitch.
Oh but the olfactory assault and annoyingly inappropriate drug use doesn't stop there! Oh no. That brings me to the *second* time we hung out. Which, again, he considered to be a date and I did not. We pretty much did the same thing as the last time, but the place we went for food was super crowded so we just got it to go and were going to go back to his place to eat it. And I was fucking starving because I hadn't eaten since about 2pm that day and it was around 8. Well, we get there and i'm waiting for him to sit down to eat because it's super awkward to just start eating when i'm the only one stuffing my face. He's taking forever already, then he tells me he's going to do some coke with his roommate's mom (who also lived there). Bitch WTF. He goes and does a few lines and then comes out about 15 minutes later. So I decide i'm going to just fucking eat because i'm sick of waiting, but I need a fork for my salad so I asked him to grab me one. He goes into the kitchen and starts talking to his roommate, which is again taking forever and i'm actually getting pissed off. So I go into the kitchen and ask where the forks are. To which he just keeps babbling incoherently about nothing. Then he starts touching my back (I was wearing an off-the-shoulder top) and looking for zits and blackheads to pop which...motherfucker get your hands off me. I decide to just give up and go eat the sandwich part of my food since it didn't require any utensils and he's utterly useless, but as soon as I turned around he starts touching my fucking FACE and looking for blackheads and zits to pop. I tell him to knock it the fuck off and stop touching my face and he looks super confused by this. Whatever. So I go and eat my food, and i'm pretty sure his stupid coked-out ass forgot that he even had food because I don't think he even ate his until way later. Which brings me to the horrifically humorous part of this story.
He finally comes down and we go to watch youtube videos in his room, which, we had *kind of* similar humor. I like vines and a pretty good amount of really dumb humor, and he did too, but where we differ is that i'm not into the kind of gross-out edgy humor that's specifically targeted towards 12-16 year old boys. He made me watch like two 10-20 minute videos of that sort that were really gross, stupid, and not funny, but before that, when I was showing him a video that I had found, this happened. I can *still* fucking smell this. To preface, it was still summer weather so the room was really hot and stuffy, and he didn't have a fan or air conditioner or anything. He was laying down on his bed (which was actually just a grungy mattress on the floor), and I was sitting on the side of it, not laying down. So he was behind me. Well, he was wearing jeans but he had basketball shorts on underneath them (off topic and unimportant-to-the-story side note, I fucking hate basketball shorts. They're hideous and on par with crocs). So he takes his jeans off, and while he's in the process of doing so, all of a sudden I catch a whiff of this sharp, gross smell that was wafting toward me. It kind of smelled like a platter of warm cheese stuffed into an unwashed asshole that had been left out in the sun by a dumpster for a few days. And I quickly realized that the smell was radiating off of HIM. Oh, no. That's strikes 5-20 right there. And to top it off, about 10 minutes later he kept trying to get me to lay down with him. While i'm trying not to gag and throw up. Like, you have some fucking nerve flirting with me and trying to get me to cuddle with you while smelling like THAT. Showers, deodorant, and washing machines are a thing that exist. Utilize them.
I think the point where I fucked up was when he messaged me a couple days or so later and was like "hey it's cool if you don't like me like that, we can just be friends." I seriously can't believe I fucking fell right into that trap. I knew what he was doing but I brushed it off because stupid me wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. He even fucking admitted that he "knew I would come around eventually" at one point after I slept with him a few times, so he was pretty much just playing up the nice guy act, telling me what I wanted to hear to manipulate me and get what he wanted. I really can't believe I fell for it. But I NEVER wanted to be in a relationship with him. I made it fucking clear that I was done with relationships because I was sick of them, but in his mind, of course he didn't believe I was serious. Because you know, he's just such a "great guy" that obviously he would be the exception 🙄 ugh. Motherfucker, there's a reason I never introduced you to anyone as my boyfriend. If you paid attention (which i'm pretty sure you did because I remember you making a bitchy little comment about how you "didn't get" why I wasn't calling you my boyfriend yet) I always introduced you as "my FRIEND, grillboy." You were never my boyfriend or "my man", you were a friend with benefits at best. Just because we fucked and I let you crash at my place, which you took complete advantage of, does not mean that it was a relationship. And if you *wanted* it to be, then you should have fucking talked to me about it instead of just deciding that we were. And I still would have turned you down, because, AS I CLEARLY STATED EVEN BEFORE I STARTED FLIRTING BACK, I did not want to get into another relationship. Me being horny and enjoying cuddles doesn't equal "omgee i need a BF". Me being accomodating and doing nice things for you and fucking you does not mean we're suddenly dating. Like, why the fuck would I want to commit to someone that I don't even like kissing? That's a huge thing for me. I hated kissing you, especially the first time because I just remember that smug, self-satisfied little grin on your face afterward, and I knew I fucked up even though I was stumbling drunk. I tried to avoid it as much as I could. You are a fucking twat and you weren't special. If College Dude had hit me up again in that time, I still would have slept with him again. At least he never pretended to be a fucking white knight to manipulate me into fucking him. Sure, he said some transparent "I was stupid to let you go and got scared" shit, but he never pretended to be anything besides who he actually is as a person. He's obviously far from perfect but at least he didn't have to bait me into being attracted to him.
And like, seriously, how fucking narcissistic and cocky do you have to be to actually believe that you had that much stake in my life or that I really gave two fucks about what you thought about me? Especially in that short amount of time. You seriously started showing your ass after I kissed you, so thanks for that. I regret that I slept with you at all, but hey, at least you don't fall in the ex-boyfriend category. I would have regretted having an actual relationship with you even more, so i'm glad I bounced as soon as you really, fully showed what a selfish, narcissistic, manipulative piece of shit you are. And yeah, I should have ditched out even sooner. I should have dropped your ass out of my life the day I told you that I felt weird after we had sex and wanted to wait and you got all pouty, mopey and defensive about it.
I'm still fucked up from you "making love"to me by the way, so i'll send my therapist your regards when I set up an appointment. I can't cry, i'm repulsed by (hetero) sex, and now my trust issues have multiplied a hundredfold. So thanks. I appreciate the trauma, really. Didn't realize "making love" was supposed to be traumatizing and involve sobbing on the bathroom floor with the door locked right after, and not wanting to get back in bed because the thought of being touched by you again literally made me feel sick to my stomach, but wow, you learn something new every day I guess. I thought sex was supposed to be two clearly consenting adults that are actually into it and respect each other enough to discuss condoms, what they're into beforehand, and that like, ask before just fucking their partner and assuming they want it. Boy was I mistaken. Hell, I didn't even know that saying "ow" and "it hurts" and trying to pull away were expressions of pleasure. Trying to make yourself mentally disengage and going completely silent and still must be like, the ultimate expression of pleasure then. Wow, silly me with my notions of sex that like, actually feels good for both people and isn't completely one-sided where they actually respect each other and don't just assume that it's a-okay to just creampie someone without consent. I had it all wrong. Whoopsie-doodles.
Oh god, and ANOTHER thing regarding his delusion that he was a huge fixture in my life pretty much immediately that totally pissed me off. So, I don't remember the timeframe, whether it was before or after we fucked, but this one time he noticed the scars on my wrist...which, I should mention the ones that are still visible and not going away, are at the oldest ten or eleven years old, and the most recent one is about 7 years old. So they're not recent, they don't have anything to do with him and really aren't any of his fucking business. I have them, I did it to myself, it's whatever at this point. But oooh...so this one time he saw the scars on my wrist, grabbed my arm and said "this upsets me." Um...hi? I barely fucking know you so who are you to be upset over something that I did to myself years ago, that are part of MY past that you were not in any way, shape or form involved with? It's not your fucking place to be upset over me self-harming, even if I had been doing it that recently. Shut the fuck up and keep your stupid fucking fakey-concerned comments to yourself. It's my body, and for the record, I don't regret any of my scars. I never have. You have no fucking right to be upset over them for me. At all.
And honestly that's fucking rich coming from you since you don't even have a basic understanding of how mental illness works. The only reason you would have any concern over my anxiety, depression or self-harm is because it might inconvenience you, or so you could play White Knight to use it as a bargaining chip against me later. FUCK. YOU.
And when you said we would "work on my anxiety together" after the panic attack THAT YOU CAUSED AND ACTIVELY MADE *WORSE*, you can go fuck a railroad spike wrapped in barbed wire, you fucking ignorant, patronizing sack of rotting dog shit. You didn't even have a basic understanding of my anxiety or how to handle it. I've lived with it for years, i've figured out coping mechanisms ON MY OWN, and it's extremely apparent that I have a way better grasp of mental illness and how it works than you do because you're still operating under the dumbfuck 12 year old idea that "love" can somehow cure anxiety or depression or anything. I mean, you honestly thought that "love" was going to cure your ex-girlfriend's heroin addiction and got butthurt because she chose heroin over your "love". Like, you are utterly clueless. So you somehow being so egotistical to think that I needed your help? Fuck off. I never did, and I didn't want your "help" either. Like, first of all, how could you possibly help when you don't even know what anxiety actually IS or have a basic understanding of how it affects people? You're very obviously one of those people that thinks that depression=getting the Sads sometimes :C and anxiety=I sometimes get nervous before a test :C and then you conflate all of that with ptsd because *you* have that so to you that's the only mental illness that truly exists and is the only source of any other mental illness that's plausible. And you can't even handle your OWN mental illness!! Like holy shit. Newsflash, self medicating by smoking yourself stupid and frying (whatever is left of) your brain with regular acid use IS NOT DEALING WITH OR " FIXING" YOUR MENTAL ILLNESS. Do you have any idea how fucking stupid you sounded trying to tell me that "I shouldn't be anxious because i'm with 'my man'"? Lolll. Way to deflect the fact that you have no respect for boundaries and can't handle the word "no". That's a you problem. Also the fact that you were never "my man" adds to the stupidity even more so congrats on being a complete clown. You wanted to try and make me feel guilty for "making you look like a fool" and "embarrassing you" but like, you're great at that on your own. You don't need any help from me on that front. Me calling you out on it is just that, you handle the "making yourself look like a complete jackass" thing just fine on your own. Perhaps you should consider joining the circus and changing your name to Grillboy the One Man Shitshow.