I’ve been stuck, deep in thought this morning over specific conversations I’ve had in the past with the one person in this world who knows me best. We’ve had a ton of arguments over the years and tend to be overly honest with one another, probably due to the longevity of our friendship. Throughout the years I became defensive and outright unreachable when I felt he had overstepped the boundaries or completely crossed the line. Some of our arguments pissed one or both of us off enough to not speak for days, weeks, and sometimes even months. I have felt hurt and betrayed by some of the things has said to me and there have been times he caused me to completely shut down; I often refused to give his words any thought or weight and easily swore to him and myself that he was just trying to hurt and control me.
One of the most painful things he said was that I was living like a battered house wife and would stay in the same spot unless I woke the hell up or ended up severely hurt. I thought the only reason he would say such a mean thing was because he was mad that I wasn’t crumbling at his lines. I proclaimed that I wasn’t battered, that Huz loved me and he had no reason to say such terrible things. We didn’t speak for weeks and when I was throughly convinced that he was insane and spoke with him again we didn’t talk about it much. By then, after I knew how to respond I just blew off any mention of the conversation and stopped crying to him about the problems at home. We finally did talk about it seriously years later though… Once the protective order was in place he offered to sleep on my couch with his gun, just so he would know the kids and I would feel safe. When I refused he tried to insist that we come stay with him, cat and all. I thanked him for the concern, quietly pushed him away and still didn’t fully acknowledge how well he knew me.
Something else he said to me recently was that my medication wasn’t safe and that he didn’t want me to take it because of the horrible side effects. He said I wasn’t mentally stable and throwing the possibility of suicidal tendencies into the mix wasn’t to anyone’s benefit. I had already confessed to him one night, only a few months before, that I had almost killed myself in March when Huz wouldn’t lay off of me. It was the night before I wrote my Tale of Two Cakey’s post but after the post had gained recognition, I focused on the feeling of success and pushed away the fact that I was so depressed and desperate to get out of the situation I was in that I could do such a thing. I told him I did it just to get Huz to shut up and off of my back during an argument. I tried my best to convince him not to worry about me but knows better. When we were at dinner one night, I accidentally brought up that my pills were making me woozy and he immediately asked me if I was taking the ones he told me not to take. I know he was angry that I didn’t listen to him so I quickly changed the subject, mad at myself for bringing it up. He let it go verbally but the look on his face has since been stuck in my head; it was one of pure concern and disbelief. In my mind, I told myself that he had no idea what he was talking about. He’s a software engineer, not a doctor and surely he was trying to control me. I finally admitted to him two nights ago that he was right, I need to get off of these pills, they are messing with my mind the way he said they would. I tried to ease his mind with my action plans for when such thoughts arise and I promised to wean myself of the pills.
The last thing he “accused” me of was an eating disorder. I swore to him and myself, again, that he was purposely trying to hurt me after he called me underweight and unhealthy. It was a few days after the medication incident, when he brought it up that I had clearly lost more weight since he last saw me the month before when I was already too thin. I convinced myself he said this because I had just told him that I had run into and spoken with Huz for the first time since the incident and we that we were on civil terms. Within minutes he was talking about my weight and for some reason these comments hurt me the worst of all. I felt like he was attacking me and my appearance, my body, of which I felt I had no control. The look on his face from a few nights before when we talked about my choice to take the medications flashed into my mind and I became fully convinced that he was trying to control me, the way Huz had done for so long. I didn’t speak to him for 6 weeks. We didn’t talk about it again until I brought it up the other night, when I told him the realization I faced last week.
There have been a million other discussions and fights about things throughout the years. Truthful accusations that I refused to own up to, some things I don’t remember, and some things I don’t want to disclose. And through all of this time, after all of these years, I believed he was trying to hurt me with each of the “mean” things he’d accuse me of. I pushed him away as far as I could over the years, but I suppose I might have only made him stronger. He is the only one who knows me so well, inside and out, the good and all of the bad. He’s tried so hard to help me all along and never flinched once when I tried to push him away. He has stuck by me in a way no one else could have and I finally see that it’s because he cares and hoped that eventually I’d come to grips with the sad truths I so hated to hear.
I concider myself lucky to have that kind of friend; everyone should be so lucky. I’m grateful for him being around for all of these years, listening to me go back and forth. Listening to me cry in pain and heartache, taking all of my insanity and anger that I projected onto him. Even after I accused him of so many terrible things throughout the years, and outright and openly never trusted him or his intentions. He never gave up on me, even when I made it such an easy thing to do. He could have easily thrown his hands to the sky and left me to my misery, but he never did, not for long anyhow. I really wish I would have listened to what he was really telling me during all of this time. I really wish I could tell him how sorry I am for being such a stubborn wreck and for not trusting him. I really wish that I could explain to him that I have finally realized his unconditional love and thank him for it because it’s so much better than I ever wished it to be.