3.6.05

Standing Up

I feel:: anxious

I broke up with Ryk on Monday night. He went on a long rant and listed for me (thanks) all the things he thought he did or gave up for me in order to continue our relationship. He kept telling me that I was displacing my anger towards him. He kept saying that my anger towards him originated with the abuse that others have inflicted on me. Which is total bullshit. I got angry and told him to quit psychobabbling. He actually told me that I compared him to other men I have dated sexually and relationally, which I have never done. It's him who always compared me to Misty. He denied ever trying to manipulate me. I was incredulous and yelled back at him,"Are you on crack?!" I tried to keep the whole thing civil and I told him that it was just time for us to quit. I told him that our relationship hadn't been working for me for awhile and that I wanted to stop. He wanted to know why because he said what I told him wasn't logical. Does everything always have to be logical?
At the risk of making myself seem like a nosy bitch, I'll recount what happened a few nights before. It was Saturday night and Ryk had his kids, as per usual. I came over and hung out for awhile. We were laying in his bed trying to get his son, Richard, to go to sleep. He wouldn't so I got up and went downstairs thinking that if I wasn't there, he might drift off. (His kids tend to get excited when they see me. I do too, for that matter.) I sat down on the sofa and started thinking about everything that had been happening throughout our relationship. I thought about how he had ruined Valentine's Day and my birthday. I thought about how he couldn't even look at me from across the table at my birthday dinner. Then, I remembered what he had mentioned to me offhandedly a couple of weeks before. He mentioned the fact that we hadn't had sex for like 2 months and that he was experiencing liquid coming out of the tip of his penis. He told me that he believed his body was producing too much sperm and since we hadn't had sex for awhile, it had built up and was pushing it's way out through the tip of his penis. I didn't think much about it at the time. I just took him at his word. (I'm an idiot.) That night, I was sitting on the sofa thinking about that and how it would be highly unlikely for that to happen. Then, I thought that the only time a man's penis leaks fluid is when they are highly aroused and erect and a little precum leaks out, or they have an std. Being that Ryk doesn't walk around with a constant hard on, I figured the latter was the case. Also, since we hadn't had sex for 2 months and when we did have sex we used condoms and since I don't have an std, I wondered how he would have gotten it. Then, I remembered some other comments that he had made offhandedly about having long phone conversations with Misty and how she was throwing herself at him sexually. I got suspicious. I looked around the living room and happened to spot his backpack. I unzipped it quietly and looked inside. I found his journal. I read it. What I found was heart wrenching and shocking to me. He had written things like that he was still sexually attracted to Misty, but he didn't want to be in a relationship with her. He just wanted her to "fuck his brains out" because he felt denied sexually and she was the best sex partner he'd ever had. On another entry, he was obviously angry and wrote about how I "made" him give up sex.(For the record, I didn't "make" him give up sex. What I told him was that since I am in therapy and all of these emotions and memories are resurfacing, that I didn't think it would be the best time for me to be having sex. That was proved several times when I had rape flashbacks while we were having sex.) He ranted for a whole page and then at the end wrote,"fuck her, I just want to be pleasured". He didn't write that he had slept with Misty, but I could figure that he had from the entries and from his confession of the leakage problem.
He came downstairs after getting Richard to sleep and by that time, I had finished reading his journal and had carefully put it back in his backpack exactly the way I had found it. He sat down on the sofa next to me and we talked for a bit. He kept asking me what was on my mind. I didn't want to tell him that I had just read his journal, so I told him that I was thinking about school and dad and some other things. I giggled and made jokes. He walked me out to my car a few minutes later and I giggled and joked again and we kissed. I felt so bad pretending like that. I felt like a huge liar. When I got in my car, all I could think about was what I read and what I had thought about. Our relationship played in my head all the way home like a bad movie. I had this incredibly heavy feeling descend on me.
Suday is a blur to me. I was so depressed as to be almost non-responsive. I could barely speak, and when I did, my voice came out sounding like a whisper. I didn't eat or go anywhere. I had to do things for my dad, of course, but I barely even spoke to him. I just did what he needed and then retreated back into my room. I realized that I was angry with Ryk sometime that night. I was so angry with him, that as I was falling asleep, I started to have this dream/fantasy of torturing him. I was in that stage of sleep where I was still aware of my surroundings, but I was just driting off. I dreamed/fantasized that I tied him up, bent him over and ass-raped him with a ten-inch strap on and no lube. He was crying and begging me to stop, but I just slapped him and told him to stop being a pussy. As if that wasn't bad enough, this dream/fantasy really aroused me. I felt like a dirty freak. It scared me that I could envision something so violent especially to someone who was so close to me. I couldn't get it out of my head for the rest of the night and only slept a few hours and that fitfully.
This came out in our fight we had Monday night. I wasn't going to tell him, but he badgered me and and I finally spat it out angrily. When he asked me why I would envision something like that, I told him,"I really, really wanted you to know what it felt like to be raped and helpless." He said,"Why?" I replied,"Maybe then you would ask me questions like if I can remember how big the dicks are of the guys who raped me."
Monday, Tanya called and convinced me to meet her for coffee at Books-A-Million. I told her all about what had happened. I even told her about my dream/fantasy. I tried to convey to her just how bad I felt, but she laughed and told me that everyone has thoughts like that. I hated myself so much. As I was driving home that night, I called Ryk because he had called me earlier while I was having coffee with Tanya. We small talked for awhile and I finally, after about 20 minutes, mustered up enough courage to tell him that I didn't think we should see each other anymore. Well, that conversation turned into a huge fight and I was sitting in the Wal-Mart parking lot in my car on my cell phone for like 45 minutes.
I have only spoken to him a couple of times since then. I went to therapy yesterday and told my therapist all about what had happened. I have also told her about the other things he has done and said that have caused me concern. She told me yesterday that he is an emotional abuser. I had to agree with that, but I didn't want to believe it. He is so subtle and I don't even think he knows he's doing it. I went back over these things in my head that he had done or said to me and realized that she was right. She told me that I looked sad and asked me why. I said,"Well, if he is an emotional abuser, then that means that I haven't changed at all from the person I used to be. I still attract abusive men."
Ryk called me several times on Tuesday, but I didn't answer. I was so heavy feeling and when I wasn't out doing things for my dad, or in class ( I did actually manage to go to class.), I reverted to the non-responsive state from the day before. Wednesday was the same. Yesterday was the day when I started to feel better, like I had made the right decision. He called me 6 times yesterday. I didn't answer and I haven't listened to his voice mail. My therapist says I should just not respond to him at all, because if I do, he will think that he is getting in good with me again.
I hope you guys don't think I'm the biggest bitch ever. Nelson, I know Ryk is your best friend, but I hope you won't tell him any of this. I considered deleting you from my lj because you are his best friend, but then I realized that you were my friend before I even knew Ryk. Also, I didn't want to hurt your feelings. I hope you don't think badly of me.

Edit: Ryk just came over and wanted to talk to me.I went out on the front porch and I told him I didn't want to talk to him, that he shouldn't have come out here and that he should leave. He just stood there ranting at me and didn't leave. So, I told him to leave again and that I didn't want to talk to him, but he didn't leave, he just kept talking. I told him again to leave and that I didn't want to talk to him. He didn't leave. I stepped back inside the house and told him that I didn't want to talk to him and that he should leave. Then, I shut the door and locked it. I was pretty shaky, so I called Tanya and was talking to her for about 20 minutes or so when she asked me to go to my window to see if he was still there. He was. She was like,"Call the police. Right now." I put the phone down and went into the living room and told my dad what was going on and that he wouldn't leave even though I had asked him to several times. He said,"You want him gone? I'll make him be gone." He called 911 and 3 Shannon Hills police units arrived at my house not too long after that. One of the policemen came in and talked to me. He wanted to know what was going on. I told him everything. He said there would be a report of this filed at the Shannon Hills police department, so that made me feel a bit better. The policemen went back outside and then I heard Ryk's car door slam really hard. I peeked out through the blinds and he was gone, but the 3 cop cars were still parked in front of my house in the street. I'm still shaky. There's a part of me that feels good about standing up for myself. This is the first time I've done that with a guy that I've dated. There's another part of me that is thinking things like,"What if I made a mistake?" and "What if he really loves me and what if no one ever loves me again?" I'm trying to tell that part of myself to shut up.
I just took a Vicodin. I'm going to go to sleep and hopefully not dream.

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