Reposting for #WhyIStayed Caleb wanted to change. He got therapy. He went to anger management. He did everything right. We were allies. Together, we were going to fix this problem. He started taking medication shortly after our sixth anniversary. Every time he was violent with me, he would go to a psychiatrist who increased his dosage. I thought the psychiatrist could fix him. He wasn’t supposed to drink on the medication, but he did. One night, he was in a stupor and staring at something. “What are you looking at?” I asked. “Myself,” he said. “That’s me sitting in that chair.” He pointed at an empty chair across the room. “That me is laughing at me.” His eyes were confused, sad. “Are you manipulating me?” I asked, worried. “I’m not the one who manipulates you,” he said. He gestured toward the chair again, his voice quickening, earnest almost. “He’s the one who manipulates you. It’s not me.” I was so tired. I didn’t know what to say. “You should go to bed.” His eyes turned from sadness to rage. He stood up and went to the stairs, then turned back to me and said, “I hope you get chlamydia and die.”
Posted on: Thu, 11 Sep 2014 21:26:58 +0000
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