future_retro
On the Prowl
Hi guys,
I've been a member here for years, have read these forums for years and have posted occasionally in relation to other people's problems. Right now, I'm feeling extremely down about a relationship break-up so I thought I'd post about my issues and see what advice comes up - because I could do with some help right now. Any replies/suggestions are most welcome, and thanks very much in advance to anyone who can contribute. Here goes...
In mid July last year I met a guy off Gaydar - let's call him Kyle. I'm 36, he's 41. We swapped pics and found each other attractive. I really liked what Kyle wrote in his Gaydar profile - he seemed like such a nice, intelligent, insightful guy; he had similar hobbies and interests; he stated that he had similar values to me in terms of monogamy. (I know monogamy isn't for everyone but it's important to me - it's just the way I'm wired.) Anyhow, we initially hit it off very well and chatted a lot on the phone by email, text and Facebook for a couple of weeks. I really started falling for Kyle. At the end of July we met up one night for the first time and it was FANTASTIC. We met for dinner, spent a whole night talking for hours and hours, kissed at the end of the night and then Kyle dropped me home. Although I was mindful that we were only just beginning to get to know each other, I felt I'd just met the type of guy I'd been looking for since, well, forever... the type of guy I could imagine settling down and building a life with: nice, respectful, smart, good looking, fun, etc. . We met for a couple more dates and on the third date I went back to his place and we 'did the deed'.
This was the beginning of a whirlwind romance and over the next couple of months we spent huge amounts of time together talking and getting to know each other; having fun, going out to dinner, watching movies, sex, just snuggling up on the couch, and so on.
Some background info here: When I first met Kyle, I was temporarily housesitting at my parents' house while they were away on a 6 month holiday in Europe. My parents were departing for their holiday in April, and since they wanted someone to look after their house while they were away and the lease on my apartment had expired, I moved into their place with the plan that I'd move out and find a new place to live when they came back in October.
October came, and me and Kyle were still going strong. I had been spending a lot of time at his place anyway, and he at mine. He was looking for a flatmate, I was looking for a place to live, and since we were spending so much time together anyway it just seemed to make sense that I move into his place. In November I moved in with him.
Not long before I moved in, Kyle confided in me that he was suffering from depression and anxiety. I had sensed that there were some issues, and knew he'd been through a tough time over the past couple of years (his Dad had passed away the year before and he'd taken care of him in his final days; he went through an acrimonious relationship break-up the year before and so on). This didn't matter to me because I too struggle with depression and am on an anti-depressant called Cymbalta (that's the brand name - the drug's real name is duloxetine). And I think that everyone - every single one of us on this planet - has our own issues and our own problems, and that's part and parcel of being human. So it really didn't bother me.
It turned out that Kyle's depression was especially serious though. He had been on an anti-depressant called Pristiq (AKA desvenlafaxine) which wasn't working for him. Around October his doctor switched him to another anti-depressant called Prothiaden (dosulepin). This didn't help him much either, so the doctor added Lithium into the mix, which apparently boosts the action of the Prothiaden. At some point (I can't remember when exactly, but I think late November) the doctor added Ritalin to the mix, for reasons I'm still unclear on. So by November, Kyle was on a cocktail of three different psychiatric medications: Prothiaden, Lithium and Ritalin.
Kyle had also been technically unemployed since February. When I say unemployed, I don't mean he wasn't working at all - he lost his job in February (he was a Human Resources Manager earning about $150,000 per year) and had been doing a little HR work on a contract basis since then - but not enough to comfortably pay the bills. But I didn't care about that. He was smart, capable and professional, and it was only a matter of time until he found full-time work.
I was earning a wage of $50,000 so I couldn't afford to support him financially (though would have loved dearly to if I could). But at least by living with him I could help ease his financial burden by paying half the rent and half the utility bills.
Unfortunately, shortly after I moved in, cracks began to appear in our relationship. Kyle's contract work started to dry up and he became increasingly frantic about what he was going to do for money. He had never been good at saving money, had always lived large, had a lot of outgoing expenses he was locked into (credit card repayments, car repayments, etc.) and was getting desperate. I couldn't really help him financially but I tried to be as encouraging as I could. However, we began to argue a lot about little things. I felt that he started snapping at me for no reason, and was moody and shitty for no reason. When I say "for no reason", I mean to say I knew there were reasons (he was very stressed about finances, etc.) but felt I was being unfairly targeted.
To make matters worse, I'm a pretty hot-tempered person. When someone attacks me, I have a habit of retaliating back five-fold (which is something I'm trying to change because I know it just makes things worse). So we got into a pattern where he was snapping at me and where I'd snap back with even more cutting and hurtful things. Which I'm not proud of.
After each argument, he would hold a real grudge and every single time, the only way it ever got resolved was for me to apologise for my part in the argument. Kyle would say stuff like "This relationship isn't working, I want you to move out" and I would cajole him, apologise for everything and patch things up - and so we'd make up and the relationship would continue. It wasn't ideal, but I just thought we were going through a rough patch as all couples do (and for good reason because of the enormous pressures we were under). And I believe that commitment is very important and that in the absence of violence and physical abuse, a couple should do whatever they can to work things out.
From this point we seemed to be locked into a pattern where things would be alright for a week or two, then we'd have a big fight and things would be awful for a day or two, then we'd make up and carry on.
But by January this year I was starting to get really tired of it all, and my mood started really crashing.
It all finally came to a head on Wednesday last week when I suggested that he apply for a HR position I'd seen in the paper. It was 'only' paying $70,000 per annum, which was less than half the salary of his last job, but I thought in the absence of anything else, it was worth a try. He could always work his way up in the company or apply for a more lucrative position elsewhere down the track. Besides, $70,000 is hardly a bad salary (at least in my opinion). Kyle didn't see it that way and basically went off his head - he started screaming at me that I didn't know what I was talking about, had no experience in HR, that I was "telling grandma how to suck eggs" and much more. He went on and on about how he wasn't stupid, and how he hadn't spent 15 years in HR to be taking junior roles that paid a a pittance. He kept telling me that I knew nothing about the industry and that I wasn't helping by making "stupid suggestions".
At this point my temper kicked in and I said: "If you know so much about the HR industry, how come you can't get a job in it?" I know it was a hurtful thing to say but I couldn't help myself.
On Thursday (a national holiday here, Australia Day), I had basically decided that the relationship had become impossible and I was going to pack up and move out. But I thought I'd give it one last try. Kyle went out for the day and when he got home, I tried to talk to him. I told him that I loved him, that I didn't want to fight with him, and apologised for hurting his feelings. His response was just to start complaining about how I'd made a very hurtful comment, and that he'd had every reason to get angry because I was making "stupid suggestions". That was the last straw for me and I decided to move out. I told him this and his response could not have been more nonchalant. He was glad I was leaving. Something snapped inside me, and I told him that instead of blaming everyone and everything else for his predicaments he should look in the mirror. I told him that instead of complaining about me all the time, he should look at himself. I told him that he was always calling his sister "crazy" but that this was coming out of the mouth of a man taking three different psychiatric medications. I told him that he was always making fun of his other sister for "being a slut" (she's been married three times) but that he's had far more partners than her. I said that he should stop projecting his own issues onto other people and start looking at himself for once. I was so angry and I felt so hurt by the whole situation that I said I never wanted to see him again, and that night I moved out with the help of family and friends.
Since then, I've come to the conclusion that I did the right thing. The relationship was just not working and I think it was counterproductive for both of us. I don't think Kyle is in the right headspace for a relationship right now, and to be honest I don't think I am either.
But I feel so very sad about how the relationship ended. Despite everything I really, really love the guy. I would do anything to make everything OK for him. I wish I could. I know we can't be in a relationship but at least I hope we can be friends someday. So yesterday I sent him and email to this effect. I told him that I cared for him very much and still wanted to be friends, but needed some time to get over the relationship before I could do so. I said I would contact him again down the track once my romantic feelings had subsided, probably after Mardi Gras or after Easter.
Then tonight - and this is where it gets *really* hurtful for me - I did something very regrettable, for which I'm deeply ashamed. It's also hurt me a great deal but I guess I deserve it.
Background info: over the past few months, Kyle had become increasingly unable to do things for himself, and kept procrastinating and avoiding things. It got to the stage where I would do them for him: I would call up creditors for him, pretending to be him and making payment arrangements. He would ask me to open up his mail, emails and text messages because he couldn't bear to deal with the latest demands for money from creditors. I would write responses to these people for him. I helped him organise things and get them into order. The end result of this was that I know the password to his email accounts.
So tonight, because I hadn't heard back from Kyle and because I was worried that he might have committed suicide or something (he had implied a couple of times he might commit suicide as "a way out" of his problems) I logged into his email account to see if there'd been any activity on it. At least if he'd read my email I knew he'd be OK. It turns out that yes he'd read it and it was in the Deleted Items bin. Since I was in the account, I couldn't help myself, and I went into his Sent Items to see what he had told people about our break-up. He'd sent several emails to his friends advising that I'd moved out. This is what the emails said (I won't quote the entire emails, just the parts that relate to me):
To his sister: Peter moved out yesterday - bad temper and neediness meets total apathy - not good. NB: I'm back to paying the full $550 per week rent.
To a friend: Peter has moved out - looking for more commitment then I was prepared to offer.
To another friend: Peter has moved out - looking for more commitment then I was prepared to offer.With Peter's departure (really think I may have dodged a bullet there).... he was volatile emotionally and my tolerance of drama is waaaay down - anyhoo, with him gone and me facing bankruptcy, I obviously need a flat mate - short term would be great, but longer term also fine (but I really don't know what can be expected over coming months, so short windows are easier to manage at the moment).
To his niece: Peter moved out a couple of days ago..... He is pretty high-strung sometimes and I can't muster the interest required to maintain a relationship.... so you knwo where that kind of pairing goes.
To another friend: So Peter left in a huff on Thursday (Happy Australia Day).He has emailed since but I am honoring his very determined request to sever all contact with him and his friends/relatives which is a shame - because his brother is sooo cute!
I know I brought in on myself, I know it was a terrible invasion of privacy to read his emails and I know that when you go looking for trouble you usually find it - and I will never, ever again invade his privacy in such a way. I have learnt my lesson. But it's too late, the damage has been done, because I feel so incredibly hurt now. It seems he thinks the break-up was mainly my fault. I feel used, like I was little more than a convenience who paid half the rent. And I feel like when he told me things like "I love you" and "My life would suck without you" that he was lying. I feel like he just didn't care about me. I feel like the main thing that he's sad about is that he won;t see my cute gay brother anymore. And I feel that there's no way we will ever be friends down the track (he said as much to one of his friends). I also don't know why he told people I was looking for more commitment "then I was prepared to offer" because we never really discussed commitment.
On the flip-side, he may feel very rejected, angry and hurt himself (after all, it was me who essentially called the relationship off and said I was moving out) and maybe he was just putting on a brave face to other people when he sent the above emails.
Or maybe at this point he does genuinely want to cut all ties with me right now but might feel differently down the track?
So what do I do at this point? I guess I'm leaning towards two things:
1. Try and write the whole thing off, learn the lessons I can from it (I'm sure there are many, many lessons in this whole experience for me) and try to forget about him.
2. Put the whole thing out of my mind as much as I can for now, and then when I'm feeling better and 'over' the situation (perhaps in a few months' time) contact him to see how he's going and see if we can establish some sort of friendship then?
Or maybe there are other solutions that I've just not thought of?
Any answers to these questions, or advice/perspective on the whole situation much appreciated.
Thanks for reading my post - I know it's a very long one.
P xxx
I've been a member here for years, have read these forums for years and have posted occasionally in relation to other people's problems. Right now, I'm feeling extremely down about a relationship break-up so I thought I'd post about my issues and see what advice comes up - because I could do with some help right now. Any replies/suggestions are most welcome, and thanks very much in advance to anyone who can contribute. Here goes...
In mid July last year I met a guy off Gaydar - let's call him Kyle. I'm 36, he's 41. We swapped pics and found each other attractive. I really liked what Kyle wrote in his Gaydar profile - he seemed like such a nice, intelligent, insightful guy; he had similar hobbies and interests; he stated that he had similar values to me in terms of monogamy. (I know monogamy isn't for everyone but it's important to me - it's just the way I'm wired.) Anyhow, we initially hit it off very well and chatted a lot on the phone by email, text and Facebook for a couple of weeks. I really started falling for Kyle. At the end of July we met up one night for the first time and it was FANTASTIC. We met for dinner, spent a whole night talking for hours and hours, kissed at the end of the night and then Kyle dropped me home. Although I was mindful that we were only just beginning to get to know each other, I felt I'd just met the type of guy I'd been looking for since, well, forever... the type of guy I could imagine settling down and building a life with: nice, respectful, smart, good looking, fun, etc. . We met for a couple more dates and on the third date I went back to his place and we 'did the deed'.
This was the beginning of a whirlwind romance and over the next couple of months we spent huge amounts of time together talking and getting to know each other; having fun, going out to dinner, watching movies, sex, just snuggling up on the couch, and so on.
Some background info here: When I first met Kyle, I was temporarily housesitting at my parents' house while they were away on a 6 month holiday in Europe. My parents were departing for their holiday in April, and since they wanted someone to look after their house while they were away and the lease on my apartment had expired, I moved into their place with the plan that I'd move out and find a new place to live when they came back in October.
October came, and me and Kyle were still going strong. I had been spending a lot of time at his place anyway, and he at mine. He was looking for a flatmate, I was looking for a place to live, and since we were spending so much time together anyway it just seemed to make sense that I move into his place. In November I moved in with him.
Not long before I moved in, Kyle confided in me that he was suffering from depression and anxiety. I had sensed that there were some issues, and knew he'd been through a tough time over the past couple of years (his Dad had passed away the year before and he'd taken care of him in his final days; he went through an acrimonious relationship break-up the year before and so on). This didn't matter to me because I too struggle with depression and am on an anti-depressant called Cymbalta (that's the brand name - the drug's real name is duloxetine). And I think that everyone - every single one of us on this planet - has our own issues and our own problems, and that's part and parcel of being human. So it really didn't bother me.
It turned out that Kyle's depression was especially serious though. He had been on an anti-depressant called Pristiq (AKA desvenlafaxine) which wasn't working for him. Around October his doctor switched him to another anti-depressant called Prothiaden (dosulepin). This didn't help him much either, so the doctor added Lithium into the mix, which apparently boosts the action of the Prothiaden. At some point (I can't remember when exactly, but I think late November) the doctor added Ritalin to the mix, for reasons I'm still unclear on. So by November, Kyle was on a cocktail of three different psychiatric medications: Prothiaden, Lithium and Ritalin.
Kyle had also been technically unemployed since February. When I say unemployed, I don't mean he wasn't working at all - he lost his job in February (he was a Human Resources Manager earning about $150,000 per year) and had been doing a little HR work on a contract basis since then - but not enough to comfortably pay the bills. But I didn't care about that. He was smart, capable and professional, and it was only a matter of time until he found full-time work.
I was earning a wage of $50,000 so I couldn't afford to support him financially (though would have loved dearly to if I could). But at least by living with him I could help ease his financial burden by paying half the rent and half the utility bills.
Unfortunately, shortly after I moved in, cracks began to appear in our relationship. Kyle's contract work started to dry up and he became increasingly frantic about what he was going to do for money. He had never been good at saving money, had always lived large, had a lot of outgoing expenses he was locked into (credit card repayments, car repayments, etc.) and was getting desperate. I couldn't really help him financially but I tried to be as encouraging as I could. However, we began to argue a lot about little things. I felt that he started snapping at me for no reason, and was moody and shitty for no reason. When I say "for no reason", I mean to say I knew there were reasons (he was very stressed about finances, etc.) but felt I was being unfairly targeted.
To make matters worse, I'm a pretty hot-tempered person. When someone attacks me, I have a habit of retaliating back five-fold (which is something I'm trying to change because I know it just makes things worse). So we got into a pattern where he was snapping at me and where I'd snap back with even more cutting and hurtful things. Which I'm not proud of.
After each argument, he would hold a real grudge and every single time, the only way it ever got resolved was for me to apologise for my part in the argument. Kyle would say stuff like "This relationship isn't working, I want you to move out" and I would cajole him, apologise for everything and patch things up - and so we'd make up and the relationship would continue. It wasn't ideal, but I just thought we were going through a rough patch as all couples do (and for good reason because of the enormous pressures we were under). And I believe that commitment is very important and that in the absence of violence and physical abuse, a couple should do whatever they can to work things out.
From this point we seemed to be locked into a pattern where things would be alright for a week or two, then we'd have a big fight and things would be awful for a day or two, then we'd make up and carry on.
But by January this year I was starting to get really tired of it all, and my mood started really crashing.
It all finally came to a head on Wednesday last week when I suggested that he apply for a HR position I'd seen in the paper. It was 'only' paying $70,000 per annum, which was less than half the salary of his last job, but I thought in the absence of anything else, it was worth a try. He could always work his way up in the company or apply for a more lucrative position elsewhere down the track. Besides, $70,000 is hardly a bad salary (at least in my opinion). Kyle didn't see it that way and basically went off his head - he started screaming at me that I didn't know what I was talking about, had no experience in HR, that I was "telling grandma how to suck eggs" and much more. He went on and on about how he wasn't stupid, and how he hadn't spent 15 years in HR to be taking junior roles that paid a a pittance. He kept telling me that I knew nothing about the industry and that I wasn't helping by making "stupid suggestions".
At this point my temper kicked in and I said: "If you know so much about the HR industry, how come you can't get a job in it?" I know it was a hurtful thing to say but I couldn't help myself.
On Thursday (a national holiday here, Australia Day), I had basically decided that the relationship had become impossible and I was going to pack up and move out. But I thought I'd give it one last try. Kyle went out for the day and when he got home, I tried to talk to him. I told him that I loved him, that I didn't want to fight with him, and apologised for hurting his feelings. His response was just to start complaining about how I'd made a very hurtful comment, and that he'd had every reason to get angry because I was making "stupid suggestions". That was the last straw for me and I decided to move out. I told him this and his response could not have been more nonchalant. He was glad I was leaving. Something snapped inside me, and I told him that instead of blaming everyone and everything else for his predicaments he should look in the mirror. I told him that instead of complaining about me all the time, he should look at himself. I told him that he was always calling his sister "crazy" but that this was coming out of the mouth of a man taking three different psychiatric medications. I told him that he was always making fun of his other sister for "being a slut" (she's been married three times) but that he's had far more partners than her. I said that he should stop projecting his own issues onto other people and start looking at himself for once. I was so angry and I felt so hurt by the whole situation that I said I never wanted to see him again, and that night I moved out with the help of family and friends.
Since then, I've come to the conclusion that I did the right thing. The relationship was just not working and I think it was counterproductive for both of us. I don't think Kyle is in the right headspace for a relationship right now, and to be honest I don't think I am either.
But I feel so very sad about how the relationship ended. Despite everything I really, really love the guy. I would do anything to make everything OK for him. I wish I could. I know we can't be in a relationship but at least I hope we can be friends someday. So yesterday I sent him and email to this effect. I told him that I cared for him very much and still wanted to be friends, but needed some time to get over the relationship before I could do so. I said I would contact him again down the track once my romantic feelings had subsided, probably after Mardi Gras or after Easter.
Then tonight - and this is where it gets *really* hurtful for me - I did something very regrettable, for which I'm deeply ashamed. It's also hurt me a great deal but I guess I deserve it.
Background info: over the past few months, Kyle had become increasingly unable to do things for himself, and kept procrastinating and avoiding things. It got to the stage where I would do them for him: I would call up creditors for him, pretending to be him and making payment arrangements. He would ask me to open up his mail, emails and text messages because he couldn't bear to deal with the latest demands for money from creditors. I would write responses to these people for him. I helped him organise things and get them into order. The end result of this was that I know the password to his email accounts.
So tonight, because I hadn't heard back from Kyle and because I was worried that he might have committed suicide or something (he had implied a couple of times he might commit suicide as "a way out" of his problems) I logged into his email account to see if there'd been any activity on it. At least if he'd read my email I knew he'd be OK. It turns out that yes he'd read it and it was in the Deleted Items bin. Since I was in the account, I couldn't help myself, and I went into his Sent Items to see what he had told people about our break-up. He'd sent several emails to his friends advising that I'd moved out. This is what the emails said (I won't quote the entire emails, just the parts that relate to me):
To his sister: Peter moved out yesterday - bad temper and neediness meets total apathy - not good. NB: I'm back to paying the full $550 per week rent.
To a friend: Peter has moved out - looking for more commitment then I was prepared to offer.
To another friend: Peter has moved out - looking for more commitment then I was prepared to offer.With Peter's departure (really think I may have dodged a bullet there).... he was volatile emotionally and my tolerance of drama is waaaay down - anyhoo, with him gone and me facing bankruptcy, I obviously need a flat mate - short term would be great, but longer term also fine (but I really don't know what can be expected over coming months, so short windows are easier to manage at the moment).
To his niece: Peter moved out a couple of days ago..... He is pretty high-strung sometimes and I can't muster the interest required to maintain a relationship.... so you knwo where that kind of pairing goes.
To another friend: So Peter left in a huff on Thursday (Happy Australia Day).He has emailed since but I am honoring his very determined request to sever all contact with him and his friends/relatives which is a shame - because his brother is sooo cute!
I know I brought in on myself, I know it was a terrible invasion of privacy to read his emails and I know that when you go looking for trouble you usually find it - and I will never, ever again invade his privacy in such a way. I have learnt my lesson. But it's too late, the damage has been done, because I feel so incredibly hurt now. It seems he thinks the break-up was mainly my fault. I feel used, like I was little more than a convenience who paid half the rent. And I feel like when he told me things like "I love you" and "My life would suck without you" that he was lying. I feel like he just didn't care about me. I feel like the main thing that he's sad about is that he won;t see my cute gay brother anymore. And I feel that there's no way we will ever be friends down the track (he said as much to one of his friends). I also don't know why he told people I was looking for more commitment "then I was prepared to offer" because we never really discussed commitment.
On the flip-side, he may feel very rejected, angry and hurt himself (after all, it was me who essentially called the relationship off and said I was moving out) and maybe he was just putting on a brave face to other people when he sent the above emails.
Or maybe at this point he does genuinely want to cut all ties with me right now but might feel differently down the track?
So what do I do at this point? I guess I'm leaning towards two things:
1. Try and write the whole thing off, learn the lessons I can from it (I'm sure there are many, many lessons in this whole experience for me) and try to forget about him.
2. Put the whole thing out of my mind as much as I can for now, and then when I'm feeling better and 'over' the situation (perhaps in a few months' time) contact him to see how he's going and see if we can establish some sort of friendship then?
Or maybe there are other solutions that I've just not thought of?
Any answers to these questions, or advice/perspective on the whole situation much appreciated.
Thanks for reading my post - I know it's a very long one.
P xxx
