Post by echo on Jan 25, 2010 7:38:10 GMT -8
I am here for help and to warn others. I literally loved my "boyfriend" to death. I say boyfriend with caution because we were in a relationship for 3 years and he was about as unavailable as they come. Our first date he said he was mess and that he would hurt me. Of course being co-dependent, I thought this poor man just needs someone to love him. The mental abuse I endured for the good of the cause cost me my family, friends, reputation, and job. He was an alcoholic and abused xanex and sleeping pills. I had 2 alcoholic fathers and thought I could handle it. Silly me. He would never even call me his girlfriend even though he took care of me financially and sexually. Even so, I wanted to be his wife. I knew it would be a marriage filled with drama and me getting the short end of the stick but no matter what he did to me I loved him so much I wanted that prison sentence of marriage. He would toy with me on his binges and speak of marriage and love but when he sobered up he acted as if he didn't know who I was. The drinking/pill abuse became more than I could handle. I begged his family to help but they had endured many more years than me the effects of his drinking and were getting tired of it. I remember his brother looking at me when I begged him to talk to his family and give my "boyfriend" and intervention like "look lady, get used to it and deal with it or move on". That was the Thanksgiving binge. On December 20, 2009 he did propose to me, more seriously this time, and I told him to talk to me when he was sober. On December 23, 2009 I found him dead. The toxicology report isn't back yet but there is no doubt in my mind that the drinking and pill abuse was the cause of death. He knew what he was doing to himself and kept saying he would never make it through December. Although I was the one to take care of him, feed, him, bath him, love him when everyone else gave up on him, including his family, I was quickly informed I wasn't his wife and was treated like I was less than a fling. His family won't even return my calls even though I returned theirs when they wanted information or wanted to know where something was. I was so devastated I tried to die to be with him. I knew I couldn't commit suicide but I tried desperately to will myself to death. I know I could not have wished or willed for death anymore than I did. You see, I didn't fear death, but I feared "living" life this way, living life alone. I Finlay realized that if I was still here than it wasn't up to me to decide. I am now trying to help me. I have found a co-dependent support group which I will go to this week. I am reading anything I can on the subject and have already learned so much. I m grateful to know that I m not alone and that there are resources like this to help me heal.