Firstly, some background:
We had been together for almost eleven years.
We had lived together for almost eight years.
We had dated, briefly, in college.
She had never lived on her own.
She had been a fairly sick child and was taken care of as her mom came from an abusive childhood and wanted to ensure that her children were always well taken care of.
She had never had to do chores as a kid (her own laundry, mow the yard, take out the trash, etc.).
She didn't have to get a job while in school (high school or college) to pay any bills.

I come from a fairly broken home, my parents divorced when I was a baby as my dad was a workaholic/alcoholic and my mom was/is a very lazy, non-motivated type of person (much like my, so-called, ex). I lived with my mother until I was ten. Shortly before I moved in with my father, my mother (who hadn't held down any job for more than six months) caused us to get evicted from yet another house/apartment and refused to get a job so that we could have a place to live. After several months of staying at my grandparents (her parents), I made the decision to move in with my father (who had been in a pretty horrific drunk-driving crash a year-and-a-half earlier), who was now in recovery. I had a fairly rough childhood thanks to my father's iron hand (which I'm thankful for now, but it wasn't easy living up to his expectations while I was a child). And I grew up a pretty angry person with some, deeply-rooted, emotional and relational problems (trust issues, abandonment, anger, etc.). My anger is usually not apparent as I can be outwardly happy, funny, and, apparently, quite the charmer (other's words, not mine). But, once I unleash the beast, it takes an army to stop it (once, while in college, I caught one of my exes in the act of cheating and I beat up the guy and put him in the hospital; I wouldn't have stopped if not for the six neighbors of hers that pulled me off of him). I've mellowed, somewhat over the years due to much introspective thought and the many hours of therapy that I've attended during my lifetime. Yet, the anger still remains.

My g/f used to tell me that she was very scared of me and that she didn't know if she could be with someone that is so angry. This would lead to me bottling up my anger for several months and not ever saying anything negative about what she was/wasn't doing. Once it reached its tipping-point, I would unleash a torrent of obscenities and personal verbal attacks at whomever triggered my anger. It was usually her that I would get angry with (we treat the ones that we love the most, the worst). As I said before, my anger was not unjustified as she rarely helped around the house, she never helped to pay for improvements on the home (while this, alone didn't bother me, as I owned the house, I would have appreciated it if she were to just offer the help and/or money). Add to this the fact that she has her own depressive issues, and you can see what a powderkeg we had.

She used to just crawl into bed immediately after getting home from work and just lay there, watching shitty television (The Real Housewives, Top Chef, etc.). I had tried getting her to join me in being active, but her depressive activities brought me down and, since I wanted to spend time with her, I joined her in bed...every day. Then, almost every weekend, she would go to her mother's house and spend the entire weekend over there. When I would ask her what time she was going to be home on Sunday, as I wanted to know whether or not I should wait to eat dinner with her, she would never give me a solid answer. It's not that I needed her to be home at a certain time, I just wanted to know so I could adjust my plans, if necessary. There were several times that she told me that she would be home by 7:00 and then show up at 9:00. After that happened several times in a row, I stopped asking her when she would be home and instead just go ahead and cook/go get dinner for myself. A couple of times, she came home in the middle of me eating and would get upset that I hadn't waited for her or called to see if she wanted anything. All of that usually didn't bother me, but after eight years of this behavior, I was justifiably upset/tired. I never got mad at her for not being there to eat dinner on Sundays with me, I just got upset that she wouldn't do what she said she was going to do (be home at the time that she specified). On the weekends where she didn't give me an answer, I would simply say okay and make my plans accordingly.

About six months before she left, she had decided that her depression was far too great for her to handle anymore and she took some time off of work to join a day/outpatient program (at her therapist's recommendation) and get help. She told me that she had been thinking about how to kill herself with the medications that she was taking (OD, in other words), I took her medications (one of which was clonipin) and told her that I would lock them up and give her as many as she needed each day until she (or her therapist/psychologist) told me that she was no longer suicidal.

While I applauded her efforts, I disliked the fact that she was taking time off of work as being active helps to curb depression (empirical evidence, studies, and personal experience have taught me this). But, I supported her decision as I wanted her to be the strong, happy person that I had once knew. During the time that she was off work (initially, it was supposed to be six weeks), she went to her day program six hours a day, then just came home and laid around. I had taken on extra responsibilities at work to help pay for the financial discrepancy that existed now (being on disability, she wasn't getting her full paycheck) and, as such, was working almost a hundred hours a week (some weeks, slightly over a hundred). I didn't have any problem with this as it wasn't a requirement (we both made enough money to pay for all of our amenities, but I wanted to ensure that we could continue to live this way should she lose her job, which I knew was coming). After two-and-a-half weeks in the outpatient program, her insurance ran out and she had to stop going to to it (but she kept going to her weekly therapy sessions, which I thought was a good thing)

Since she wasn't really doing anything to help around the house, I began to resent her and my anger boiled beneath the surface.

Then, she started hanging out with the aforementioned friend. This friend is married, has a boyfriend, and is cheating on said husband and boyfriend with, yet another, man. Just they type of person that I really wanted her to hang out with. I never said anything about my feelings about her friend, I just tried to support her. Then, she started going out with this friend every Friday night. Since I work on Saturdays (and Sundays), I would ask her what time she would be home so that I will know when to expect her. Only one time did I ask her to be home at a specific time, as I had to get up very early the next day and drive four hours to a meeting in another state. Every time she told me when she would be home, she was late. The time that I asked her to come home early? She was late. I began to think that she was cheating on me and my anger slightly boiled over. I never accused her of anything as I had no proof. I never did anything to snoop on her as that is not how I am. I never tried to control her by telling her not to go out, to be home at a certain time for no reason, and to not hang out with her new friend. I also never called her while she was out to see when she was coming home as I am not that type of boyfriend.

Yet...

She began to tell me how controlling I was and that I never wanted her to go out with her friends. I took it all in stride and explained the situation to her. The fact that I was working so many hours, the fact that I was doing almost everything and asking for very little in return, the fact that I had serious issues with her drinking and driving, and the fact that I was alone every weekend (although, sometimes, I would hang out with some friends, but almost all of them are in relationships, married, have children, etc.). She said that I was trying to manipulate her and that she didn't like that. I let the argument go and watched as my anger boiled hotter and hotter and hotter.

During her time off of work (now extended to twelve weeks, a.k.a. short-term disability), she had decided to look for another job as she was uncomfortable working with the guy that she had been working with (a married man who, while a bit creepy, wasn't really a problem that any HR department couldn't have handled). I supported her and even called in a few favors to get her on the short-list for jobs where some friends and family work. Of course, being off of work for twelve weeks leads people to not want to hire you, but I kept supporting her emotionally so that she might find a better job.

She decided that, while off of work, she would go ahead and have a couple of elective surgeries to help her breath and sleep better (she didn't get a lot of sleep because of her nasal passage swelling and because of her adenoids and tonsils being so large). After the surgery, she went and stayed with her mom for almost three weeks and hardly ever called me (I was so busy trying to make enough money to pay the bills that I probably wouldn't have had enough time to talk to her anyway). After she came home, I asked her when she was going to go back to work and she told me that she was going back after our vacation at the end of June (she said that, if she were to go back, they would not allow her to go on vacation, which made sense to me). After we got back from our vacation, I asked her again and she told me that she had converted to long-term disability and wasn't going back to work until her therapist told her she could (which I still completely disagree with as, without anything else to do during the day, she would just wallow in her own self-pity and depression, making things much worse than they actually were). She also said that they needed to get her meds right before she went back (since she was no longer suicidal, I had given control of her medications back to her, btw). I never asked her if she was staying in contact with her HR department as to her employment status or anything, as I didn't want to seem like I was accusing her of anything.

I finally lost it one day when she asked me to go to the post office and get some stamps for her while I was at work. I went on my lunch hour (which caused me to not be able to eat lunch as that's when the post office is busiese) and got her some stamps. When I got home with the stamps, she asked me to put them on an envelope that she had put a job application into. Then, she asked me to take it to work and mail it for her. We don't get mail at my shop as it is all forwarded to our P.O. box and, as such, the mailman never comes by. I then realized that she had been just sitting around the house all day and that she hadn't done a damn thing except watch television and play video games. I walked into the bedroom, turned off the tv, and just stood there, staring at her in bed. I asked her why she couldn't mail it and she said that she hadn't felt like it and that her back hurt. I looked at her for a moment, then I told her that she needed to stop being so fucking lazy and accept responsibility for her life and do something. She immediately started crying, probably because I was yelling all of this at her and I guess that I'm scary when I'm yelling. I calmed down and apologized and explained the situation to her (the lack of a postman and such). She said that she would mail it the next day (which didn't happen, btw).

A few weeks later, she got fired. The HR department at her job sent her a letter explaining that, since she had not remained in contact with them, they assumed that she was just taking advantage of her disability and that they no longer required her services.

Out of fear, she didn't tell me for a few days and, when she did, I didn't flip out on her like she expected. I, instead, told her what we should do to make what little money she had left last as long as possible. I also told her that she needed to get another job A.S.A.P. and that she couldn't, "hold out for a management position," as-it-were (basically put, that she, most likely, wouldn't get her dream job and that she should continue to look once she got a new job). I didn't kick her out, I didn't tell her, "I told you so." I didn't yell at her and berate her. I simply told her that she needed to do more.

Three days later, on our way back from picking up dinner, she made the comment that she, "had been abused," and that, "I had been controlling during the entirety of our relationship." I realized that, at times, I had been verbally abusive to her as I was extremely resentful of her and that I didn't know how to handle those feelings like a proper adult. Instead of apologizing, I got very quiet after she said that. After we ate, I was going to go into my office at home and look at some real-estate contracts (one of the other jobs that I had started while she had been off of work) and she asked me what was wrong. We had a long conversation and she said that she had decided to move out as our relationship had become so toxic that she couldn't handle it anymore. She stated that she needed to find herself again and that she needed to become a person that I could respect. I was emotionally devastated and angry and hurt and betrayed and all of the shitty emotions that one feels when a relationship is ending. I knew it was for the best though.

The next day, she moved all of her things out and moved back in with her mom and stepdad.

The next week, I began to take all of the blame and put it on myself.

Two days after that, one my friends and my family forced me to go to the lake (Tenkiller Lake) for Labor Day and spend time with them (I'd already made plans to go with said friend but wasn't really feeling up to it). Everyone that I know, and I do mean everyone, began to tell me that I wasn't really the problem. Sure, they all agreed that I hadn't handled the situation the best, but that I handled it the only way that I knew and that I had, arguably, done the best thing. They told me that I was, indeed, a good person and that I needed to let her go if I really loved her.

The week after Labor Day, I began seeing a therapist again.

The week after that, I began to realize just how I had fucked up and just how she had fucked up (it is a two-way street, after all).

Fast forward to today.
She and I have been talking and seeing each other again (nothing really serious as I don't want to be with an unemployed person). She hasn't really changed her behavior a lot and I'm not really okay with that. The difference now is that she knows that I'm not okay with it and that I'm not going to put up with any of the crap before (toward the end of her living with me, I began to refuse to do things for her). We are still, technically, together. I'm not sure for how long though as she is still mostly doing things the same way that she did before she moved out. She has lots of aspirations but very little motivation to accomplish them. I'm not the most ambitious guy in the world, but I'm highly motivated. If she doesn't start enacting positive change, I'm not going to hang around, no matter how much I love her.


All in all, while breakups are very difficult, it might be for the best for you. I'm glad that you are seeking help as it will only make you a happier person in the end. I hope that my story has helped you, but, if it hasn't,

Firstly, some background:
We had been together for almost eleven years.
We had lived together for almost eight years.
We had dated, briefly, in college.
She had never lived on her own.
She had been a fairly sick child and was taken care of as her mom came from an abusive childhood and wanted to ensure that her children were always well taken care of.
She had never had to do chores as a kid (her own laundry, mow the yard, take out the trash, etc.).
She didn't have to get a job while in school (high school or college) to pay any bills.

I come from a fairly broken home, my parents divorced when I was a baby as my dad was a workaholic/alcoholic and my mom was/is a very lazy, non-motivated type of person (much like my, so-called, ex). I lived with my mother until I was ten. Shortly before I moved in with my father, my mother (who hadn't held down any job for more than six months) caused us to get evicted from yet another house/apartment and refused to get a job so that we could have a place to live. After several months of staying at my grandparents (her parents), I made the decision to move in with my father (who had been in a pretty horrific drunk-driving crash a year-and-a-half earlier), who was now in recovery. I had a fairly rough childhood thanks to my father's iron hand (which I'm thankful for now, but it wasn't easy living up to his expectations while I was a child). And I grew up a pretty angry person with some, deeply-rooted, emotional and relational problems (trust issues, abandonment, anger, etc.). My anger is usually not apparent as I can be outwardly happy, funny, and, apparently, quite the charmer (other's words, not mine). But, once I unleash the beast, it takes an army to stop it (once, while in college, I caught one of my exes in the act of cheating and I beat up the guy and put him in the hospital; I wouldn't have stopped if not for the six neighbors of hers that pulled me off of him). I've mellowed, somewhat over the years due to much introspective thought and the many hours of therapy that I've attended during my lifetime. Yet, the anger still remains.

My g/f used to tell me that she was very scared of me and that she didn't know if she could be with someone that is so angry. This would lead to me bottling up my anger for several months and not ever saying anything negative about what she was/wasn't doing. Once it reached its tipping-point, I would unleash a torrent of obscenities and personal verbal attacks at whomever triggered my anger. It was usually her that I would get angry with (we treat the ones that we love the most, the worst). As I said before, my anger was not unjustified as she rarely helped around the house, she never helped to pay for improvements on the home (while this, alone didn't bother me, as I owned the house, I would have appreciated it if she were to just offer the help and/or money). Add to this the fact that she has her own depressive issues, and you can see what a powderkeg we had.

She used to just crawl into bed immediately after getting home from work and just lay there, watching shitty television (The Real Housewives, Top Chef, etc.). I had tried getting her to join me in being active, but her depressive activities brought me down and, since I wanted to spend time with her, I joined her in bed...every day. Then, almost every weekend, she would go to her mother's house and spend the entire weekend over there. When I would ask her what time she was going to be home on Sunday, as I wanted to know whether or not I should wait to eat dinner with her, she would never give me a solid answer. It's not that I needed her to be home at a certain time, I just wanted to know so I could adjust my plans, if necessary. There were several times that she told me that she would be home by 7:00 and then show up at 9:00. After that happened several times in a row, I stopped asking her when she would be home and instead just go ahead and cook/go get dinner for myself. A couple of times, she came home in the middle of me eating and would get upset that I hadn't waited for her or called to see if she wanted anything. All of that usually didn't bother me, but after eight years of this behavior, I was justifiably upset/tired. I never got mad at her for not being there to eat dinner on Sundays with me, I just got upset that she wouldn't do what she said she was going to do (be home at the time that she specified). On the weekends where she didn't give me an answer, I would simply say okay and make my plans accordingly.

About six months before she left, she had decided that her depression was far too great for her to handle anymore and she took some time off of work to join a day/outpatient program (at her therapist's recommendation) and get help. She told me that she had been thinking about how to kill herself with the medications that she was taking (OD, in other words), I took her medications (one of which was clonipin) and told her that I would lock them up and give her as many as she needed each day until she (or her therapist/psychologist) told me that she was no longer suicidal.

While I applauded her efforts, I disliked the fact that she was taking time off of work as being active helps to curb depression (empirical evidence, studies, and personal experience have taught me this). But, I supported her decision as I wanted her to be the strong, happy person that I had once knew. During the time that she was off work (initially, it was supposed to be six weeks), she went to her day program six hours a day, then just came home and laid around. I had taken on extra responsibilities at work to help pay for the financial discrepancy that existed now (being on disability, she wasn't getting her full paycheck) and, as such, was working almost a hundred hours a week (some weeks, slightly over a hundred). I didn't have any problem with this as it wasn't a requirement (we both made enough money to pay for all of our amenities, but I wanted to ensure that we could continue to live this way should she lose her job, which I knew was coming). After two-and-a-half weeks in the outpatient program, her insurance ran out and she had to stop going to to it (but she kept going to her weekly therapy sessions, which I thought was a good thing)

Since she wasn't really doing anything to help around the house, I began to resent her and my anger boiled beneath the surface.

Then, she started hanging out with the aforementioned friend. This friend is married, has a boyfriend, and is cheating on said husband and boyfriend with, yet another, man. Just they type of person that I really wanted her to hang out with. I never said anything about my feelings about her friend, I just tried to support her. Then, she started going out with this friend every Friday night. Since I work on Saturdays (and Sundays), I would ask her what time she would be home so that I will know when to expect her. Only one time did I ask her to be home at a specific time, as I had to get up very early the next day and drive four hours to a meeting in another state. Every time she told me when she would be home, she was late. The time that I asked her to come home early? She was late. I began to think that she was cheating on me and my anger slightly boiled over. I never accused her of anything as I had no proof. I never did anything to snoop on her as that is not how I am. I never tried to control her by telling her not to go out, to be home at a certain time for no reason, and to not hang out with her new friend. I also never called her while she was out to see when she was coming home as I am not that type of boyfriend.

Yet...

She began to tell me how controlling I was and that I never wanted her to go out with her friends. I took it all in stride and explained the situation to her. The fact that I was working so many hours, the fact that I was doing almost everything and asking for very little in return, the fact that I had serious issues with her drinking and driving, and the fact that I was alone every weekend (although, sometimes, I would hang out with some friends, but almost all of them are in relationships, married, have children, etc.). She said that I was trying to manipulate her and that she didn't like that. I let the argument go and watched as my anger boiled hotter and hotter and hotter.

During her time off of work (now extended to twelve weeks, a.k.a. short-term disability), she had decided to look for another job as she was uncomfortable working with the guy that she had been working with (a married man who, while a bit creepy, wasn't really a problem that any HR department couldn't have handled). I supported her and even called in a few favors to get her on the short-list for jobs where some friends and family work. Of course, being off of work for twelve weeks leads people to not want to hire you, but I kept supporting her emotionally so that she might find a better job.

She decided that, while off of work, she would go ahead and have a couple of elective surgeries to help her breath and sleep better (she didn't get a lot of sleep because of her nasal passage swelling and because of her adenoids and tonsils being so large). After the surgery, she went and stayed with her mom for almost three weeks and hardly ever called me (I was so busy trying to make enough money to pay the bills that I probably wouldn't have had enough time to talk to her anyway). After she came home, I asked her when she was going to go back to work and she told me that she was going back after our vacation at the end of June (she said that, if she were to go back, they would not allow her to go on vacation, which made sense to me). After we got back from our vacation, I asked her again and she told me that she had converted to long-term disability and wasn't going back to work until her therapist told her she could (which I still completely disagree with as, without anything else to do during the day, she would just wallow in her own self-pity and depression, making things much worse than they actually were). She also said that they needed to get her meds right before she went back (since she was no longer suicidal, I had given control of her medications back to her, btw). I never asked her if she was staying in contact with her HR department as to her employment status or anything, as I didn't want to seem like I was accusing her of anything.

I finally lost it one day when she asked me to go to the post office and get some stamps for her while I was at work. I went on my lunch hour (which caused me to not be able to eat lunch as that's when the post office is busiese) and got her some stamps. When I got home with the stamps, she asked me to put them on an envelope that she had put a job application into. Then, she asked me to take it to work and mail it for her. We don't get mail at my shop as it is all forwarded to our P.O. box and, as such, the mailman never comes by. I then realized that she had been just sitting around the house all day and that she hadn't done a damn thing except watch television and play video games. I walked into the bedroom, turned off the tv, and just stood there, staring at her in bed. I asked her why she couldn't mail it and she said that she hadn't felt like it and that her back hurt. I looked at her for a moment, then I told her that she needed to stop being so fucking lazy and accept responsibility for her life and do something. She immediately started crying, probably because I was yelling all of this at her and I guess that I'm scary when I'm yelling. I calmed down and apologized and explained the situation to her (the lack of a postman and such). She said that she would mail it the next day (which didn't happen, btw).

A few weeks later, she got fired. The HR department at her job sent her a letter explaining that, since she had not remained in contact with them, they assumed that she was just taking advantage of her disability and that they no longer required her services.

Out of fear, she didn't tell me for a few days and, when she did, I didn't flip out on her like she expected. I, instead, told her what we should do to make what little money she had left last as long as possible. I also told her that she needed to get another job A.S.A.P. and that she couldn't, "hold out for a management position," as-it-were (basically put, that she, most likely, wouldn't get her dream job and that she should continue to look once she got a new job). I didn't kick her out, I didn't tell her, "I told you so." I didn't yell at her and berate her. I simply told her that she needed to do more.

Three days later, on our way back from picking up dinner, she made the comment that she, "had been abused," and that, "I had been controlling during the entirety of our relationship." I realized that, at times, I had been verbally abusive to her as I was extremely resentful of her and that I didn't know how to handle those feelings like a proper adult. Instead of apologizing, I got very quiet after she said that. After we ate, I was going to go into my office at home and look at some real-estate contracts (one of the other jobs that I had started while she had been off of work) and she asked me what was wrong. We had a long conversation and she said that she had decided to move out as our relationship had become so toxic that she couldn't handle it anymore. She stated that she needed to find herself again and that she needed to become a person that I could respect. I was emotionally devastated and angry and hurt and betrayed and all of the shitty emotions that one feels when a relationship is ending. I knew it was for the best though.

The next day, she moved all of her things out and moved back in with her mom and stepdad.

The next week, I began to take all of the blame and put it on myself.

Two days after that, one my friends and my family forced me to go to the lake (Tenkiller Lake) for Labor Day and spend time with them (I'd already made plans to go with said friend but wasn't really feeling up to it). Everyone that I know, and I do mean everyone, began to tell me that I wasn't really the problem. Sure, they all agreed that I hadn't handled the situation the best, but that I handled it the only way that I knew and that I had, arguably, done the best thing. They told me that I was, indeed, a good person and that I needed to let her go if I really loved her.

The week after Labor Day, I began seeing a therapist again.

The week after that, I began to realize just how I had fucked up and just how she had fucked up (it is a two-way street, after all).

Fast forward to today.
She and I have been talking and seeing each other again (nothing really serious as I don't want to be with an unemployed person). She hasn't really changed her behavior a lot and I'm not really okay with that. The difference now is that she knows that I'm not okay with it and that I'm not going to put up with any of the crap before (toward the end of her living with me, I began to refuse to do things for her). We are still, technically, together. I'm not sure for how long though as she is still mostly doing things the same way that she did before she moved out. She has lots of aspirations but very little motivation to accomplish them. I'm not the most ambitious guy in the world, but I'm highly motivated. If she doesn't start enacting positive change, I'm not going to hang around, no matter how much I love her.


All in all, while breakups are very difficult, it might be for the best for you. I'm glad that you are seeking help as it will only make you a happier person in the end. I hope that my story has helped you, but, if it hasn't,