A Look Back at My Relationship with Katie
I met Katie on Match.com, one of the primary dating options in Mormon-laded Idaho Falls. She was a single mother with a six-year-old son, working her way through college. She was pretty, brash, personable, and incredibly driven. She was also three years older than me, which would later become an issue.
In the beginning, our relationship was great. We'd hang out and have sex, and it felt like nothing else in the world mattered. But reality always set in. She would go home, and I'd be left alone in my apartment—or not really alone, since I had my friend, alcohol, to keep me company.
As time went on, I met her son. She warned me that he had severe emotional issues (she was correct) and occasional (frequent) violent outbursts, and to be honest, he and I never really got along. It's hard to say, but he wasn't an easy kid to like. He was emotional, rude, dramatic, explosive, and often hurtful to his mom. While all of these things drove me crazy, I said nothing at first.
Months passed, and as I felt more comfortable, I began to speak my mind about he treated her. This never went well. Her son would freak out, Katie would freak out, and everyone ended up miserable. If you take that one event and imagine it happening three times a week over three years, you'll get an idea of what our daily life was like.
The Toll of a Toxic Cycle
It was difficult to watch the stress her job and her son took on Katie. When we were stressed, we drank. When we were happy, we drank. We found an excuse to drink for every occasion. My own drinking progressed until I became very sick. I spent months in the hospital with several medical scares that nearly killed me. I missed months of work and worried if my life would ever be the same...but also worried it would be exactly the same.
During this time, Katie got a new job. It was great news—a huge pay raise—but it meant many more hours. She became a different person. "Stressed" doesn't even begin to describe it. Her fuse became incredibly short, and angry outbursts became the norm as did "wine nights.
I tried talking with her about it a few times, but the conversations always went poorly, so we stopped talking about anything. We ignored it, and I drank even more, even though I knew I shouldn't have. We'd "break up" a few times, and many of my things would get broken outside my dump of an apartment, but then we'd get back together. Despite everything, no one was happy.
"Not happy? Buy a house! Not happy? Get married!" Makes sense, right? That's what we planned to do, and as the days got closer, I began to wonder, "Is this what I want for the rest of my life?" Sadly, I contemplated these decisions while drunk, which only made things 1,000% worse.
The Aftermath
On April 25, 2018, I pulled the plug on everything: the job, the wedding, the house—everything. After four years, I was done. I was drinking myself to death. I was miserable, unhappy, and 1,600 miles away from all my friends and family. I left almost everything I owned behind, still not sure if I'll ever see any of it again. I got in my car and tried to go home.
In the aftermath, Katie hates me, and rightfully so. I burned all my professional bridges in a place I called home for a few years.
What now? That's an excellent question. I'm trying to figure that out. Sometimes, knowing what you don't want is just as important as knowing what you do want. At least, that's what I'm telling myself to get through tonight...it's 3:17AM.
