"I found out that the $500 I wired my then-girlfriend for her friend's 'emergency dog surgery' was actually used to bail out the guy she'd been cheating on me with. He was arrested on a felony substance charge.
To make it worse, the guy was a pale, skinny guy with black dyed hair who sang in a death metal band in a small town. He had three kids by three different women, lived with his mom, had multiple drinking and driving convictions so he couldn't get a license, and no car, of course. That stung. I cut my losses and ended it right then.
Still, it hurt. I was head over heels for this girl, but now I'm glad I found out before I bought a ring.
And call it karma, but he actually dumped her a month after I left her."
"My girlfriend of three years used to threaten suicide all the time when anything didn't go her way. The last straw was when she asked me what time I was going to head home. I told her I would in a few minutes since it was getting late. The waterworks and shouting began like a crack of thunder.
She was yelling and crying about how I wanted to leave her, which was completely true, though I never said it. I picked her up, and held her saying 'No, no, of course not.' Then she claimed I had slept with other girls, which I most certainly had not.
When I kept trying to comfort her, she broke away from me, grabbed a knife, and put it to her wrist. She started screaming about how she would kill herself to show me how much she hated/loved me. She was in full-on crazy mode, and something in me snapped. I said, 'Okay, do it.' She said, 'What?' I repeated myself. I said, 'I'm tired of you going bonkers and threatening to kill yourself. So, if you're going to do it, do it.'
Her face completely changed, I suppose upon realizing that this tactic would no longer work with me. Then, she looked at the knife, looked at me, and took a lunging stab at me. The knife caught me in my upper left chest. It only went it about 1/8 to 1/5 of an inch. I pushed her back, looking at the wound on my chest. I was flabbergasted. Just staring at her, trying to think of something to say. Finally, the only thing I could think of came bursting out of me, 'It's crap like this.'
Then, I turned and walked out of her life forever."
"I knew I HAD to end things if I ever wanted to be happy again.
I was 17, had just had a baby with this guy six months prior. We had been together for four years, and we lived together in an apartment that I busted my butt to take care of all day every day while he smoked pot and played video games in our bedroom.
We would get a weekend off when his mom offered to take baby sometimes, and we happened to get one weekend that coincided with one of our favorite bands coming to play a show in our city. I bought the tickets and we made plans to go with friends. He wanted to sneak drinks in so he didn't have to pay for it there, of course, because I had a bag I was the one who actually had to bring it in.
They searched everyone's bags to avoid this and confiscated the flask. Not a big deal, just a few shots lost. He LOST IT and started screaming at me that I always ruin everything and how he could never have fun when I'm around because I was such a big waste. People could actually hear him over the music that was playing and some even started staring. I started to cry before I realized where I was.
This band had been my favorite band since I was 12. I had waited for YEARS for this experience and was not going to let this abusive jerk face ruin it for me.
I should also add that he had some mental issues including things with being in public, he always expected me to be RIGHT next to him or else he would flip out on me, so I calmly said: 'You know what, get lost. I'm done.'
I walked away, wiped my eyes, found my friends and tried to have a good time. He followed and tried to keep up with me but I ignored him. He stuck near me for the whole show, but by that point, I was beyond caring. That was the last straw in our relationship. I remember actually feeling good for sticking up for myself, and then proceeding to have an amazing time.
I guess it was then that I realized I didn't need him to make me happy, in fact, he was making me unhappy and any fear of being alone was a much better alternative to being told I'm worthless and occasionally getting punched in the face for saying the wrong things. I haven't seen or spoken to him since. He does not want anything to do with our son, but his mom is still involved.
I've met someone new and have been with him for almost three years now. My son calls him daddy and he is wonderful. He is the exact and complete opposite of his father."
"My significant other (we will call him John) and I began dating a few months after my then fiancé and I had just broken up. The guy had left me because he wanted to see what else was out there since he and I had dated for several years and were high school sweethearts. Pretty heart-breaking, but understandable.
I was, of course, an emotional wreck, felt like I was disgusting and not capable of keeping the man in my life happy and fulfilled. I had the lowest self-esteem I had ever experienced in my life and felt like a shattered woman. John helped me through the difficult time and through it, our relationship began to develop.
Anyways, John and I were dating for a few years, and I couldn't have been more in love. We connected on a much deeper emotional/spiritual level, understood each other better than our families ever did, and had done everything for each other. Everything was perfect. I made several sacrifices for him while he re-built his life from past addictions (which he initially hid from me and I forgave), helped him rebuild his finances (since he was over $15,000 in debt at the time), and supported him while he worked odd jobs (I had an established career while he struggled to find a secure job). I definitely felt this was alright because you have to give in a relationship, and like I mentioned, we did anything for each other.
Fast-forward to the present: We've moved three states away in order for him to pursue a career that he finally had an opportunity for (which was fine because I also benefited from it). We've lived here for four months now, away from all family and friends, so involved in our relationship and reveling in how amazing it is to be with each other. Until last week, that is.
Come to discover, he has been soliciting women on Craigslist, getting women's phone numbers from his odd jobs he's been working, and has been trying to sleep with women he's met (I know this because I've read the e-mails and text messages). On top of it, he had been lying about who he had been contacting (saying he was talking to his guy-friend when he was propositioning his ex, etc) since we had begun dating.
His response when confronted? 'Well, it's not like I ACTUALLY slept with any of them!'
Yeah, that's pretty much when I knew I wanted to leave him."
"I had been solely responsible for the emotional labor for years, but I stayed because I cared. He cheated on me and had no interest in fixing things. He lied to me, gaslit me, manipulated me, and didn't care a bit when I told him he was hurting me. Even still, I cared about him and set aside my issues for his benefit. He didn't reciprocate. I saved him from suicide three times this year alone, but when his parents blamed me for his problems, he was more than happy to not stand up for me. I still tried. He told me it didn't even occur to him to think about me. I got upset, and he tried to blame me. Everything had to be about him, he couldn't stand any attention being on me. Even so, I thought he could recover and do better. I made a plan even. I gave him support and presents and attention because I knew what it was like to be abandoned when your mental health was bad.
But when he told me he didn't love me anymore and said all kinds of horrible things to the point where I wanted to kill myself, it finally sank in. He didn't want to get better, he just wanted me to shut up. He didn't want to grow up. He didn't want to face his problems ever.
He intentionally caused me to panic and then lied about having to go out of town just to avoid me. He'll probably get wasted and hook up with a random girl because that seems to be the sort of person he's become.
He hates himself, but he took it out on me. I don't feel that I ever mattered to him. I asked him for help and he ignored me every time.
I finally saw him. The man I loved is dead if he ever existed in the first place. I wish so badly that wasn't the case, but it's time I faced reality. The man I loved is gone. I don't think he wants to come back, and certainly not for me."
"When I was dealing with depressive symptoms over the course of a year, my girlfriend at the time went on a rant one day.
It included how she didn't believe depression is real, that I should 'get over it' or 'stop thinking about it since it is in my head,' and how it was becoming an inconvenience to her. I guess the last part is fair since nobody wants to be around someone who doesn't lift them up, but the way she said all of it gave me the idea that she isn't that invested in the relationship.
A few months later, I broke up with her. This was three years ago. Now, I'm studying at a great university, have rebuilt existing friendships, made new ones, and my relationship with my family is great.
In a way, I have that failed relationship to thank for it. I have never been happier."
"I found out my girlfriend had been sleeping with one of my friends. She left her Facebook logged in on my laptop, with a chat window open with him.
They had been talking about their relationship and everything they were going to do. I saved the conversation and when I confronted her about it, she completely denied it over and over again. When I showed her the actual conversation, she accused me of making it up and continued to deny it.
I knew she had problems with lying to me before but the cheating and not admitting it when I had obviously caught her was too much. I couldn't deal with it any longer. It was obvious she didn't even care enough anymore to be sorry for her actions.
Then the next two girls I dated, the first cheated and got pregnant. The other was cheating and was planning on moving out of state with him.
I have lost all faith in finding a woman who cares."
mr. teerapon tiuekhom/Shutterstock
"I knew the gig was up when she introduced me to her new boyfriend during Christmas dinner at her parent's house.
We had been dating for two years. I went through a bout of depression and she decided that I wasn't giving her enough attention. She asked her parents if she could 'invite a friend with nowhere to go for Christmas.' We'll call him Jeff.
It was fun, we played cards against humanity, and Jeff seemed like a good guy.
Four days later, she dumped me for being 'too depressed,' and six days after that, she was dating Jeff. She later told her best friend (who I was also good friends with) that she and Jeff had been having a romantic relationship for a few months.
Thankfully, her best friend has a level head and reamed her out for it. They're not friends anymore."
Marcos Mesa Sam Wordley/Shutterstock
"I was with my ex for three years, two of those were an on again/off again relationship (I have commitment issues). Anyway, in the three years we were together, he worked very hard to get me to trust him and open up to him. I fell madly in love. He became my best friend and I grew to love him more than I had loved anybody before.
The only problem was, during the last year (when we became official), he would occasionally, about every four or five months, become distant and withdrawn and he'd disappear for a couple of weeks. I began to suspect that he was cheating, so I tried to cut it off, but each time he'd tell me how much he loved me and couldn't live without me, that he would never cheat on me and I was the only woman in the world for him. I believed him, like a fool.
Long story short, I did some intensive internet stalking and I discovered his bachelor party invitation....dated one year and one day (TO THE DAY) before we met.
Yup, he met me one year and one day AFTER his one year anniversary. I knew I had to leave him. He begged me to forgive him and told me he fell in love with me and didn't want to lose me. But I knew there was no going back.
This was two years ago, and I still have a broken heart."
"My dad was in a horrible motorcycle accident that left him hospitalized; EXACTLY like you see in the cartoons and movies. Full body cast, one leg up in the air, the whole nine yards.
His wife at the time (in no way related to me, I wasn't even born yet) came in some time after he woke up; she sat down and calmly told him how she didn't love him anymore, how she hated his entire family, how she had been cheating on him for quite some time, and several other rather horrible things while he was laid up and unable to even talk back thanks to a messed up jaw. She told him she was getting a divorce, then got up and left.
He finally got out of the hospital several weeks later and came home to a house empty of everything but his half-starved, dying-of-thirst greyhound.
Luckily, Allie the greyhound lived for several years after this. In fact, when my father died, a monument of her was made and placed with his tombstone on the gravesite; he was very, very close to her."
"My ex-boyfriend was a chronic pot smoking Charles Manson archetype. I used to smoke pot regularly, but I came to a conclusion that it should only be used if I have some sort of minor ailment like nausea, otherwise it unleashes painful PTSD flashbacks.
He and I were together for close to four years. I confided in him that I had been severely abused as a child but I don't think he understood the mental torment I faced. He was one of those diehard pot advocates who would zealously promote its usage for everything including mental illness, which I think is reckless. He grew up listening to baby Mozart, went to private school, had rich parents, and never got spankings. He never experienced an ounce of trauma. He clearly couldn't relate. I rarely saw him sober, he was always lighting up when he came over (even though he was already stoned) then promptly try to hook up when I clearly wasn't up for it. He'd pressure me a lot to smoke with him because 'it'd make everything better' or 'it'd help to talk about your trauma.' Even though I'd tell him countless times to not pressure me because weed has evoked fear/negative thought loops and I can be self-sabotaging.
Alas, he decided he was going to spike my avocado smoothie (hides the taste well) one day because I guess I wasn't performing adequately in bed and needed a bit of highly concentrated oil to liven up my performance. I freaked out, had a panic attack, started hyperventilating, had hallucinations, and instead of trying to help, he drove me home unsure of what to do.
My mindscape turned Lovecraftian. I was having rapid-fire flashbacks of traumatic events all at once; I really thought I was never going to recover from that. Weirdly enough, our relationship didn't end there because he was extremely manipulative and possessive. Considering the abuse and the nervous breakdowns I've had, my mind wasn't that strong of a fortress. He'd convince me that my mother was a bad person, that all my friends are bad, and that only he could help me, that no one else loves me but him. He exacerbated my predisposed paranoia to the point where I retreated and became a hikikomori for a while, only letting him enter my room whereby he'd pressure me to smoke and hook up.
My ex was into really young girls and some creepy foreplay. His browser history pretty much consisted of flatchested models being 'abused.' I felt like I was not good enough for him, inadequate.
I finally snapped out of it a week ago after he started getting increasingly violent with me, screaming at me for little things and pushing me around. I also gave him an ultimatum to cut back on weed or I was leaving, and he ignored me. But then I realized, even if he did stop, forget him. For four years, I was stuck in a rut of paranoia and sadness, but now I think it's safe to say I'm no longer under his spell.
Let's hope I get through this."
"In my first serious, long-term relationship, we were 11 months apart in age and I was older. I went away to college and we both chose to go to the same school. I was working 'part time' and picking up as many hours as I could, basically working 40 hour weeks without benefits. I was also taking 21 credit hours during my first semester as anything over 18 was 'free.'
This was in 2001, so cell phones weren't a big thing. I had one that made local calls and my boyfriend sent me a $20 calling card so I could talk to him. He'd call me when he knew I was at work and it started getting more and more agitating. My cell phone was kept in my locker and the day I 'snapped' was when I'd told him I was going to work and I had a six-hour shift and three missed calls, all with increasing frequency of annoyance with me and ending in 'you are probably out with some guy' sob story.
I realized the relationship was unhealthy and sent him a letter telling him this. He never responded or called me.
A month later, I got an email from a female friend of his I'd never met. She said she was told by him that if anything happened, she was to tell me. Turns out he tried to commit suicide and was in the hospital. I was pretty upset, called my parents, called his dad... cried... and he called me once he got out of the hospital.
Everything was blaming me and at one point he threatened to kill himself if I didn't agree to date him again. I managed to talk him out of it and swore off relationships for a while. I met my now-husband a month later and started dating him three months after that.
Six months into my relationship, my ex randomly messaged me saying he was going to kill himself. Fortunately, my new boyfriend knew I'd dealt with this before and he called my ex's dad, who said my ex was sitting next to him on the couch on his laptop watching TV and they'd have a talk.
I know my ex had a lot of therapy and seems to have worked his issues out. We can talk now and it is a cordial relationship, but I don't consider him a friend really, just a guy I knew."
"I was super depressed my freshman year of college and started dating this guy who wanted us to get married ASAP and move in with his parents. There were so many red flags, but it all sounded good to me at the time.
The summer after freshman year, I went home and saw the doctor and got on some new antidepressants, and within three days felt a million times better. I actually started thinking about the future and what I wanted to do with my life. I called my boyfriend (who also had gone home to his own state for the summer) and shared my new dreams and how much better I felt.
He was disappointed. Literally disappointed that I felt better and didn't want to come live in his parents' basement and learn to cook all his favorite foods from his mom.
It was like a switch flipped and I realized how manipulative and controlling he was and how much he was taking advantage of my depressed state to mold me into his dream woman (which was some sort of Susie homemaker/adult star combo).
I broke up with him very shortly thereafter."
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