Like every good doom spiral, mine began with ignorance. I ignored his chronic unemployment and flagrant abuse of the unemployment system (which I find particularly disgusting now). I tried to ignore the endless hours of World of Warcraft and his increasing inability to ever get out of bed. That one was difficult, since he often chose to play or go on "raids" instead of hanging out with our real friends. I ignored that I was, essentially, living in his room under a pile of dirty dishes and dirty laundry. No surprise here: I found myself emotionally spiraling out of control very quickly.
Oh, and I was still a student. Therefore, I found myself commuting to class more often, missing class more often due to the commute, paying for an awesome apartment I never slept in, and trying not to get the botulism from the rotting food left in dishes all over his bedroom. We didn't do much of anything anymore. He never "took me out," there were no more cute surprises, and all effort on his end came to a halting, jerking stop. But wait a second, it's a lie to say we didn't do much of anything. We fought. OH and I cried. A LOT. Like, constantly.
I was so confused. He has been passionate, he had worked so hard for me, and now that he had me he paid almost no attention to me. When he DID pay attention to me, it was usually out of annoyance. He told me I was crazy, and I believe him. However, I kept fighting for those golden moments where he seemed to care. I practically moved in with him, thinking that it might draw us closer together, only going home to Berkeley when our fights spiraled far enough out of control that he would tell me to leave.
So I thought, hey, I am never in Berkeley these days! Why am I paying for an apartment here?! I mean, duh, right?! So I got rid of my apartment and moved into his bedroom/my mom's house officially. Most of the time I was with him, but sometimes I went home to cool off. I begged him to get a place with me. For some reason, I thought that if he agreed to move in with just me, he'd remember how much he loved me. He'd remember how awesome I was. Or I'd remember why I was doing this. He did NOT want to move in with me (wisely) and so I did what any rational irrational girl would do, I badgered him constantly about it. Finally, he gave in!
He continued to sleep all day, play WoW, and collect unemployment dishonestly. I say dishonestly because he never truly looked for work. I mean, he thought he was a genius! He had so many creative business plans! It was only a matter of time before things worked out. He would just collect unemployment, claim he was looking for work, and use it to buy useless shit until his dream career fell out of the sky. On the other hand, I continued to commute to school and pay: rent (1125/month), PG&E, Comcast, you name a bill, I paid it all by myself out of my inheritance. I'm sure my grandpa would be happy to know I wasted all his money on a duder this awesome.
Also awesome? I was losing my mind. Slowly but surely. He ignored me, didn't do shit, and was generally a waste of space. Anytime I got upset about these things, about the inequities, he told me I was insane, that he couldn't deal with me, and that he was not going to talk to me. I'm not shitting you, dear readers, when I say that he never once had an adult conversation with me. He never even had a conversation with me of any kind. Period. If "we" had an issue, "I" had an issue, and he was definitely not going to care. I went to sleep in tears more often than not, and he just cold-shouldered me. It was clearly the most awesome relationship OF ALL TIME.
*=DSM still stands for Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, criteria for classifying mental disorders.
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