A needle of Hope
amid a haystack of Chaos.

My Date Night Horror Show; hope I see the kids again ;/

Created: Friday, April 20th, 2012
02:46:02 UTC

It all started so well.

My love and I have a scheduled Date Night. No matter what, we ardently strive to set aside Thursdays for a date unless there are pretty large extenuating circumstances (sickness, emergency, etc.). I've been doing this with lovers throughout my life. It gives a certain cadence to every relationship: Pretty much no matter what, every week love is reaffirmed in a fun-filled activity.

Tonight was another spectacularly failed Date Night. See, when date nights fail, they fail *hard*, at least with this woman.

I had decided to take her to the movies; we hadn't been in about 2 or 3 months. My problem is that w/ her new job she's pretty unreachable as, she says, they don't allow personal calls or emails. Works well enough for me, as I rarely have to put up with the constant re-dialer effect whenever she has a crisis or goes into her manic period in the last month.


We just moved and don't have Internet at our place yet. So, I planned this date while I was work. I carefully picked four movies with show times around 7-8 PM, careful to pick at least one thing she'd be excited about.

I texted her a reminder about Date Night around 2 PM and she responded around 5:48, I guess when she was leaving work. She said, "Sounds GREAT! I fracking love you!!" <-- her sentiment seemed way too high, so I thought she may be in her manic mode (usually lasts only a few hours; then the rages). She got home around 6:45.

As we were on the road to the theater, I said, "Why don't we get fast food, so we can make it to the movies on time?" She **flipped** out. I mean, she went from excitedly telling me about work one minute to screaming at me the next, flip out. How **dare** I take her to fast food on a *datE* night, she bellowed. How **dare** I not plan a good meal into the date!

OK, so I know you can't rationalize with BPs in their rage fest mode. They, at least she, loves to be raging at me. I can tell a certain glee in her eyes. It's hard to see, but I see it. I think it's why she flips into a happy person so fast afterwards, you know? Getting her narcissistic supply at my expense, I guess.

Mostly tho, she ranted and raved about how I was **SO STUPID** that I couldn't memorize all the movie times for the four movies. That I obviously hadn't planned it out, and that this is how I always treated her: Like shit.

Reflection, anyone?!?!

She went on and on, ranting like a lunatic with me only inches away, unable to leave, you know? She whips into a Subway and screams, GO INSIDE TO YOUR PRECIOUS SUBWAY! BUT BETTER EAT IN THERE!

I opened the door, and while I was getting out, she just kept yelling at me about all sorts of stuff, like how I hadn't planned the date, how I didn't know exactly what time the movies started, etc. Just bullshit. A young woman pulled up right next to us and opened her door... She gasped and her eyes looked at me, looked at my love, when she heard this talk about date night, she looked disgusted. Then my lover was like GET IN! GET IN NOW! and started backing up with me having one leg out and one leg in. I got in. Maybe it wasn't the best decision, ok? But I didn't have a phone, I didn't know where I was, and I didn't want to be stranded in a new side of town at dark.

I found myself finally getting really really really really really reallly really seeing-red angry when she moved on to all facets of how I supposedly sucked. After hearing five or six insults too many, I held my hands over my ears and started chanting and then singing.

O my god, it **enraged** her!!! I could hear her SCREAMING but I raised my voice every time I could make out a phrase. "Lousy lover", "hypocrite", "loser", and "ITS OVER!!!!! ITS TOTLTALLY OVER!!!!!!!!" Those were pretty much mostly what I heard over a total of 10 minutes of detaching like I did when my dad used to do the same shit to me growing up.


I felt pretty successful when she pulled into our apartment spot and got out. I'd DONE IT! I had almost totally detached and only my arm and ego were sore from the beatings! I wasn't enraged! For the first time, I had managed to greatly block these volleys of insults.

In the few seconds of peace after she had exited, I went into survival mode and quickly locked the doors. I just knew she'd be back any second to try to do god knows what. I always imagine she's going to physically hurt me, tho she rarely does. But tongiht she was reallllly off her rocker, so I don't know. This hurts me, this lack of knowing!! I SHOULD KNOW IF SHE'S GOING TO HURT ME OR NOT! Maybe I'm just paranoid?! She hasn't hurt me in over a year I think. <-- that's what i was thinking.

Then I thought, Man! I don't deserve this! What the hell am I doing here?! Why does she always have to ruin stuff? Is this my breaking point? Am I finally going away despite never seeing my step-kids at least for a few years? <-- my spirit answered, no, I'll stick around and through even worse for them, to help them and to be able to spend time with them.


All that happened in just under two minutes. Then I heard high heels clacking across the pavement. My body instinctivley braced for a blow. Why do I brace for blows? Why do words sometimes *feel* like punches?

She started hollering at me through the window...I started my mantra again. She started BELLOWING!!! Our neighbor came out, big 6'3 black woman I'd be afraid to mess with. "What's going on?!?! Is everything OK?" My love shouted, "MIND YOUR OWN [explicative] BUSINESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" And then yelled at me, "ITS OVER!!!!! ITS TOTALLLY OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" and stormed off.

Then she turned around and screeched, "YOU'RE NEVER SEEING [my step daughter] AGAIN!!!!" Probably because she knows that's one of the main ways to hurt me. After all, I'm just a "step". When she broke up with me one time in front of them *years* ago, when they were all much more fragile, I wished, I wished, I wished I could tell them why it was happening, that I wanted to be in their lives always, that I wish I could adopt them, that I wish they had a better dad, that I wish *i* could be their dad.

Almost every week recently, I tell them (individually) that I'm so honored to meet them, even honored to be in their presence, and help them out and teach them and love them. That I'm so happy they exist and that I look forward to seeing them grow up even more, that I'm soooo proud of the young adults they already are.

As far as I know, it's the only validation they get. I worry without me they're all goign to be so much more disadvantaged. I Know I'm in a messed up relationship, ok? i know it's definitely not healthy (i've been sick 2x this month and ahven't slept well in 6). But dammit! I'd live another 5 years of this to make sure they have a fairer chance, and because a few days of hell each week is worth a few hours of being with them.

At least that's what I tell myself. and all of us seem to be better for it. For that reason, and that reason alone, I hope it's not over.

But she's ended it or threatened to so many times over the years that I'm emotionally immune to it now. After having the ring thrown at me so many times, I just accept it, and move on.

If it is over, I will try to get with their dad to work out some sort of visitation rights. I will mourn the loss, pray for their futures, strive to see them weekly by being a chauffeur to new extracircular activities I finance, and pray that that will be enough.

I have to let go and let God. Like I always do.

Oh! And I'm *very* thankful my friend lets me bunk at his house so often these days! I would be a total mess if I had to stay in taht house with her seething and then, spontaneously, acting all chipper and then getting sour again that I couldn't drop a grudge (e.g. get over the psychological torment I'd just gone through) in 20 minutes.



It's also very very very hard that you can't even explain ANY Of this to the kids until they're MUCH older, like 15 or 16.

You should probably do the selfish thing and stay out. I'm totally conflicted by this, however. I fracking love the kids and actually know the abuse is worth knowing and loving, teaching and helping them.

So, if you want to risk being that messed up, go ahead and date a BP with kids. Don't say I didn't warn you. I wish someone would have warned me.