Assailant or Assaulted?

Thank you all so much for welcoming me here, and for your support. I was referred to this site by someone who had issues with personality disorders with her family members in the past. She, and a few others in my life have asked if I was experiencing gas lighting. Right now, I don't think I know what to think about anything, or if I have a true sense of my reality and memories. I am currently traveling, and not seeing a therapist. I have no idea where to start, but I do have this mass jumble of words:

Trigger warnings: Possible sexual assault, reckless drinking, questioning reality

The last part regarding sexual assault was hard to account and I ended up pasting my words from writing this out in the past. I'm sorry if it doesn't make any sense.

I had a partner in my life for almost a year. I had always thought of him as practically incapable of hurting anyone, especially intentionally. We seemed happy, and his family really took me in and called me family. I was so involved in their family events, and I was panicking and trying not to get too attached, asking not to be called family when I simply was not permanent family to any of them. At that point in my life, I was so scared about not being enough and for all of the instability that comes with impending college graduation and preparing to be the only person in my family living in this country.
The first time I remember crying and feeling confused, I felt like he lied to me about something in a past relationship he had previously. I was so sure he had told me something had not happened, but when I asked for clarification, he told me the opposite and told me he had never told me what I thought he had. I thought I remembered a conversation about it, and it made a difference to me.
Another time we disagreed, a few months later, I found it so strange that he didn't seem to to have been listening to what I was actually saying to him, and seemed to be arguing against something I hadn't said, but the opposite of what I was saying. It was strange to me, and loved ones of mine that he didn't seem to be listening to me, so we all thought it best for me to try and communicate with him. He opened up with me about a traumatizing experience from his sister's past relationship, and apologized that he didn't seem to be able to hear what I was saying, instead of the opposite of what I was saying.
With his family, I began feeling more and more like use collateral to get him to go places they wanted him to. I didn't like that feeling, and felt even more insecure than I had. Things would sometimes happen that I would get upset about, like my name being misspelled on his mother's album, or subtle racist remarks that would unsettle me, etc. I felt less at home with them, when I used to feel so complete.
I dislocated my knee at the end of April and became rather depressed. During this time, I guess my partner and I caused some tension because we went to an event I wanted to go to (I could finally walk without an immobilizer that weekend, yay), instead of going straight to their home for their party and music video shoot. When we arrived late at night, I guess they forgot that I could not climb ladders in my injured state, so the sleeping arrangement they set up for me would not work. I just started crying feeling so stupid and helpless in the car, and kept my poor partner awake for longer than I should have because I couldn't bring myself to do anything besides cry. I was cranky with his family the following morning and I regret that still a lot. I sent apologies out to most people close in my life a few days later apologizing for acting moody and not handling my first injury of that caliber very well.
My partner came home one evening rather distant and seemingly distraught. He told me his mother had a conversation with him about how I act and how I may be troubled, have subconscious issues, and may not even love him. She discussed actions with him that I did not do (at least not consciously), and I was so distraught. When I reached out to his family, they set up a family meeting I didn't really feel comfortable with, but ultimately went to and communicated as best as I could at. They talked about how they wanted him to take care of himself, and feared he wasn't as joyful as he used to be and wasn't taking care of himself while caring for me. His mother, a behavioral psychologist, said she was choosing to practice conservatism, and suggested my partner does the same. They all said they trusted my intentions, but his mother could see bits of me. They were proud of me for coming out and talking. I had always asked my partner how he was, consistently begging him to communicate more with me and asking him to check in with himself, so I felt worried and clueless about what else I could do. My partner and I sometimes disagreed after that meeting... I didn't feel it was their place to be judging me as they had, and felt I knew my actions and intentions best. He said he didn't believe people didn't know themselves best because others could see parts of them that they couldn't.
I found myself trying to convince him and his family in the months that followed that I was worthy of being loved, did not need to be feared, and could hopefully be a part of their lives as I used to be. I still would ask my partner things I felt he had been keeping from me, and getting the truth out of his mouth that way. I would often be in bed at those points, maybe not fully clothed, and would end up way more upset about him hiding things from me, or lying to me/breaking promises. Things like not being sure he was in love with me, and other things that are too blurry to remember confidently.
He went on tour with his family for a little bit at the start of summer and we weren't really talking much. When he came home though, we seemed to be fine. Not really clothed and in his bed the morning of my birthday, I asked him if he had lied to me about something, and he said "yes." I spent most of my birthday crying and feeling so distraught and betrayed. Again. He told me how I made him feel and how that made him betray our commitments and my trust. I did not attend his birthday celebration two days later with his family, apologizing that I feared I would burst into tears at his event and would not want to be a downer at his party. He seemed cheery and fine, pretty much supportive that I was not attending. I drank and cried a lot and ended up blaming much of my despair on my PMDD symptoms and resolved that whatever I had done to make him feel like he had to lie was eating away more at me, and nothing beautiful could come of me not forgiving him, instead of forgiving him and trying to work harder with him. Again.
In July, I was working insanely long hours, and I was really struggling with my PMDD symptoms to an extreme I never had. That wasn't a secret to anyone around me (I sincerely have no secrets). I saw him distraught again and asked him what was wrong. He didn't tell me until I was pretty much having a panic attack about him hiding something from me again and worrying that I had done something and he didn't like me anymore. He told me he was diagnosed with an STI, and when I asked how that happened, he told me I was his only option. I had no explanation or knowledge. I'll never forget how he sounded and turned away when he said that at least he knew now that I didn't know something and was hiding things from him. I am still so upset that he thought I would ever hide something that could affect him like that. I was always trying to be so careful and was so protective of him... We all saw him as so malleable and innocent, even though he's clearly an adult and is capable of making his own judgements and decisions. I was completely out of my clear judgement and mental state was much weaker due to PMDD, and I was so distraught. He asked me to get tested and I agreed to. I had no explanation for the diagnosis aside from the real possibilities of childhood sexual assault/abuse. I felt as if I had been diagnosed with an irreversible STI, that I had been carrying it for year asymptomatically and without knowledge for most of my life, that this STI was brought about through assault, not love, just horrid behaviors, that I had given this STI to someone I loved more than anything, and I could not do anything about it. My partner left me in his room to talk to his mom about the diagnosis, but was otherwise said things like he it didn't matter to him where the STI came from or that he had it, and that he didn't hate me and his family didn't hate me. I begged and begged him not to leave me alone and told him I was really scared and unstable... At least I remember doing that. He left though and I ended up taking a few pills recklessly to numb pain. He knew that when he came back and I told him I was fine (I was). Unfortunately, he kept leaving me alone that evening despite my expression of fear, and I also drank quite a bit, crying hysterically into a pillow and talking to it and falling asleep. This was horrifying. Obviously this was my responsibility to do whatever it would take to never put myself in danger of acting recklessly out of despair again. My partner left to go teach at a song writing retreat at his family's place (a couple hours away), and I went to lots of doctors, for blood tests, a physical, and consultations on how to better manage my PMDD. I did so much research on the STI we apparently had, and learned that the CDC doesn't recommend asymptomatic testing due to a large turn out of false positives. I asked him about the conversations he had with his doctor, if he knew his result numbers, what brand of test he had, what lab his results were processed in, and if he knew how the tests work/the statistics of their results. He didn't seem to be knowledgeable about any of these things. After many phone calls and a blood test a cast mate comforted me through, I came back with negative results. He didn't seem nearly as excited as I was, and was more concerned about the way I handled the whole situation on the first night. I started taking supplements in addition to my medication and wrote a guidebook on the disorder I have... I don't think he's ever read it. When he came back for a few days in between retreats, we looked at the rest of the tests he received. He didn't receive testing for really anything common, as I guess he thought he had, so we went and got a full basic screening. I received and HPV vaccination, and encouraged him to get one too. He didn't want to at the time, and I also don't think he ever did get one despite saying he wanted to get one, and my multiple suggestions of locations and appointments. I was so worried and distraught about hurting him and giving him any diseases or infections and hurting him unknowingly again in any way.
In August, there was a whole twisting thing of him going to the show I was working on, and deciding last minute not to because the commute, and me asking again to communicate the best he can with me about his intentions and what he actually wants to do. A couple hours after I asked that adamantly of him, he started telling me he didn't feel comfortable about staying on our lease that was to start a couple weeks from then. I was in a car accident at the time and with the lease beginning in two weeks, I wasn't able to give much besides trying to assure that I am not an unsafe person to be around and will be as supportive as I can within financial boundaries.
When we next saw each other in late August, we both could say we didn't want the relationship we had for different multiple reasons. I was consistent in saying that I wanted to see if anything would blossom between us, and he kept saying he only wanted to nurture our friendship. Out of a lot of instinct and being a generally loving person, I was still affectionate with him, but never in a way that was pursuing him, or was not seemingly mutual. We engaged intimately that evening and was upset about that. I was relieved he didn't feel taken advantage of, but when I shared my feelings with him, he made a comment about me being shirtless at the time (I still don't know or remember why at all I wasn't wearing a shirt). I felt really self conscious, rejected, and dirty, that he responded with that comment and cried and expressed that with him. We both drank the evening that followed, he seemed more affected by the alcohol than I did. I felt so laser focused on making sure he didn't get sick and to not touch him intimately or do something stupid, I don't know if I was technically nearly as drunk. I started reading to him out loud and he removed his shirt. I froze throughout all of this, still just reading out loud, confused. He started caressing my legs and his hands went up my dress and started playing with my underwear. I thought I remembered his hands going further up my dress, but this memory is weak. I remember the feeling of him playing with my underwear and touching my stomach and reaching further into my underwear line. I had been brushing his shirtless side and chest the night before while reading and similarly continued further down his pant line as he continued to pull down his pant line until we engaged further and I asked for his consent. I did not remove my clothes or react aside from confused breaths. I didn't know what I should have done at the time. I was in love with him and happy to be seemingly loved, but didn't want to engage again because this time alcohol was involved, he explicitly had said he didn't want to, and I didn't want to go through feeling cheap or rejected again... So I kept freezing. I sat up once, but he didn't stop so I just lay back down and kept reading, knowing if he didn't mean it, he'd stop. He stopped and rolled on his side away from me, saying he didn't feel well maybe due to the alcohol. I read about 100 pages to him after that. I rubbed his side and brushed his hair when I knew he was still awake. When he was sleeping, I'd check his temperature, but otherwise did not touch him. The next morning he was upset that we engaged again, and I didn't know what to say, but I felt terrible. I didn't feel I had done anything the second night, and I was confused and almost angry. I responded by saying it was ok with me if he wanted to sexually engage with me and not be in a relationship with me, but begged him just not to say he wouldn't so I wouldn't freeze up or feel terrible about myself and feel like I'm doing something terrible and question what to do. He didn't want that though, he just insisted he didn't want to be with me intimately at all. I didn't feel comfortable saying "ok" because I felt I would be in the same place again and again. I left for a trip and after I saw him again I realized I was horrified of him and was involuntarily shaking. I lined out the actions and felt like what happened the second night was really wrong. We had argued about it a little bit, but I was thinking it more as cowardice than assault. I begged him to communicate with me for weeks, but when he would communicate with me instead of reject communication or tell me he wasn't going to do anything to make me feel better, we would argue with vastly different narratives. The last thing I have archived in terms of arguing about events includes his claim that I had slept next to him shirtless the second night and "didn't know how my shirt came off." I corrected him, and remember feeling furious at the time, but did not reflect that in my writing.
He left and wrote something to me full of things that didn't add up at all, his family I guess it pushing that I am not mentally stable, and the friends we had apparently did not believe me.

Now, I'm just afraid. I'm afraid I do not know my own actions and reality. I'm afraid I am a horrible person, and I am afraid I actually assaulted him by making him uncomfortable and not respecting his boundaries or listened to him as he has claimed.

Thank you for letting me write out so much.



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