Advice Goddess: Martyr She Wrote
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{mosimage}You note that every other woman has left him, like it’s some accomplishment that you’re still there. Sorry, but “Woman survives on barely any dignity for five straight years” isn’t quite on par with “Woman trapped in car for five days stays alive by drinking her own urine and eating the headrest.”
You spin what you had with him as some great love story, and that’s not totally off. Your denial of reality is right out of “Titanic” -- the scene where DiCaprio’s character is about to freeze to death in the North Atlantic, but first manages to mutter, “I don’t know about you, but I intend on writing a strongly worded letter to the White Star Line about all of this.” Next, you claim he’s “a good guy.” How so? When he’s screaming and maybe even throwing things at you, does he stop for a moment to write a check to the American Cancer Society?
Of course, you were never “the one,” just the one who paid his VISA bill. And guess what: He hates you for it and probably hated himself for needing you too much to ditch you. You weren’t his girlfriend; you were his caseworker. You don’t love him; you enable him. And, you weren’t with him for who he is but for who you’re not. To be fair, you two do have one big thing in common: a really low opinion of you.
Don’t get your hopes up about the ADD meds, which were apparently sold to you as the Glinda the Good Witch of pharmaceuticals. They might help him be more focused and less impulsive. Like psoriasis, the guy’s bound to come back. In preparation for his return, change the locks, change your phone number and pledge to stay out of relationships until you couldn’t imagine putting up with a guy like him.