I'm still so torn even though the evidence is right there in front of me

[Before you can make things better, you have to stop making them worse...]

  assault, abuse

Hello. I began following this site at the beginning of the year, but this is my first time posting.

When our relationship began she had just gotten out of a longterm long distance (and very unhealthy) relationship a few months prior and I had just ended a short fling. I'm typically the pursuer and so it took me by surprise that her flirting was so sincere and direct; I was attracted to many things about her and hooked on an intensity that matched mine. We had long conversations into the night and she let me know upfront that she had been diagnosed with BPD and what life could look like together. She walked me through some warning signs and tips, telling me she had a "demon" (which at the time I thought was for poetic effect), and so I foolishly thought I was prepared.

After a few weeks of courtship and mixed signals we decided that neither of us was in a healthy place to be together. We already felt like we were falling in love but her sudden mood swings were triggering for me, having gotten out of an abusive relationship a few years prior. I went on a trip out of town for a week and the first night there we had a long, tearful conversation about "not now." That didn't last long after I returned, however, and a few visits as "friends" slowly slid back to the ways things were before. At this time she was working with a therapist and a psychiatrist, but after a few failed attempts to find medicine that didn't make her sick or too drowsy to function she gave up on the later.

To make a long story shorter, because of COVID she ended up moving in with me. Her terrible job made her stress constantly and she began smoking and drinking regularly, even on the clock. I began doing everything I could to soothe her, including the chores, not asking for rent money, and many times swallowing frustrations or pain I felt. She would take out her frustrations on me, and one of her favorite topics to pick at was my previous relationships with men (she's a lesbian, I identify as a queer woman). The rage would often build up all day and sometimes it would implode into deep depressive episodes that were only the tip of a suicidal iceberg. Some moments she would even threaten to leave and I would, in a panic, beg her to stay.

A few months later was the first time I was aware of encountering the "moods with personalities" as she describes them. I don't think that's accurate; her eyes, voice, and mannerisms change when these personalities come out, they refer to themselves and each other as different names than hers, and they don't always seem triggered by a mood. This is when the physical abuse set in: her angriest personality (which she meant by a "demon") has shoved me into walls and doors, lightly punched my face, forced me to perform sexual acts either with threats or sheer strength, and once held a knife to my throat and dared me to call the police. After most incidents my partner either couldn't remember or only remembered bits and pieces.

I was afraid and ashamed and didn't want to burden my closest people with this information so I kept it to myself until one night I came home and she wasn't there and wouldn't answer her phone. I thought she was dead and called my best friend and confessed what had happened, too beside myself with grief to think. It turned out she had just gone for a drive to calm down and didn't think it was necessary to let me know.

I've been seeing my own therapist for over a year and after telling her about the knife incident she began softly but firmly nudging me towards breaking up or at the very least not sharing the same living space. I resisted, locked into codependency and afraid of triggering the angry personality. However, a few months ago my partner quit her job and the constant rage spiraled into utter suicidal depression. There were just enough "good" moments to breed hope and this coupled with my job that requires intense, exhausting caregiving meant I just never felt like I had the energy to leave.

About a month ago I finally couldn't take being her emotional punching bag anymore; we began fighting almost constantly as I pushed back against the hurtful remarks and emotional disregard. After talking it through with my therapist, I finally told my partner that we should separate. Afraid for my own mental and emotional health during the break up, I called my parents and was honest about my year.

If the depression was heartbreaking before, this was an utter meltdown. She even begged me, something she had never done before. She was like a child being abandoned all over again. Every day there would be a point where she would message me that she gave up or I "won" or some other darkly foreboding phrase that would mean she wanted to end her life. I even caught her searching for guns. At some point, I became so overwhelmed I finally was honest about everything I had been experiencing that year. Shockingly, she stayed quiet and listened, apologizing.

After she talked with her therapist about what I said she seemed to be on a good road. She understood why we needed to separate and was making a plan to start looking into medication and meditation again. She was affectionate in a way she had not been all year, both physically and verbally. When I wanted to make a decision, instead of just letting me defer to her she would ask what I actually wanted. Despite struggling with talking about emotions, she did her best to tell me what she was feeling. We felt closer than ever and I really began to feel genuine hope that repairing could be possible in the future. Admittedly, I was also relieved that I would not have to go through the pain of parting so soon.

This past week, I visited my parents for Christmas and after some deep and thoughtful conversations, they reminded me that the situation was still unhealthy and a momentary honeymoon period did not guarantee my safety. Between my stressful job and stressful home, my life was not sustainable and I needed to get some breathing room between both. It was like with enough distance I could see my life from a third party perspective and could see all the ways it was unhealthy and dangerous. We made a plan to set a move out date for my partner and I felt encouraged and safe.

However, when I got home my partner was immediately distraught when I tentatively suggested the move out date. She seemed to think that separation was no longer on the table and I admit I probably gave mixed signals with not wanting her to leave. The idea of being alone again, without her "only" support system made life seem pointless. She began talking about taking her life again but this time it was calm and with purpose as she gently tried to reassure me it was going to be okay and that she we should enjoy the time we had left. In the middle of the night she left to go sleep in her car and I didn't realize it until hours later, practically begging her to come back home.

Through the night and next day she talked about needing to go to places to clean herself up and started making plans to give away her things. Panicked, I called my parents and told them I didn't know how much time I had until she would actually carry out her plans and it was suggested that I contact the local emergency crisis center. I'd called once before for information but it had been months and I was hoping someone would walk me through an emergency plan.

Unfortunately the operator told me he would have to call the police if he didn't hear from her and I was given a countdown to get home (I was in the store when I had called). I was horrified at the thought of the police for racial reasons but also because she had told me early on never to call the police lest she attempt suicide by police. I rushed home and had to wake her up. She'd been sick all while I was gone so she was still very weak and I tried to reassure her into voluntarily going with me to the facility. When we got there, there was only one entrance because of COVID and two of the noisiest tantrums were happening right inside. She was anxious already but loud noises really trigger her and it was the worst way to try to convince her to talk to the counselor. After the nurse took her temperature, I didn't even get a chance to hug her or kiss her goodbye; they made her empty her pockets, walk through a metal detector, and then on down the hall to a different area. It happened so fast that by the time I got to the car I had finally processed enough to start falling apart.

All last night she called me off and on swinging between distressed, betrayed, and pained abandonment. We had promised to spend New Year's Eve together (partially so that I could guarantee that she would be alive when I returned home) which is also our anniversary, and the decision to hold her in a hospital means that we won't be together for those days.

Right now she's in an in patient facility through the weekend and I can't stop answering the phone, even though I know my parents are really pushing for no contact. As I'm writing this I can feel that objectivity and knowing what an unhealthy situation this is, but the minute she calls I know that my heart is going to melt for the first person who actually imagined a future with me and shared a life with me. She says the facility is awful; the staff are uncaring, there's screaming from other patients, and everything seems dirty and cold. They didn't even have menstrual pads when she asked for them.

Please help me, my mind and heart are so torn and I'm scared of what will happen when she's released. I have managed to get her family and her therapist's numbers but I'm not sure how to keep both of us safe and healthy.

[AnonEMoose]

  assault, abuse

Hello. I began following this site at the beginning of the year, but this is my first time posting.

When our relationship began she had just gotten out of a longterm long distance (and very unhealthy) relationship a few months prior and I had just ended a short fling. I'm typically the pursuer and so it took me by surprise that her flirting was so sincere and direct; I was attracted to many things about her and hooked on an intensity that matched mine. We had long conversations into the night and she let me know upfront that she had been diagnosed with BPD and what life could look like together. She walked me through some warning signs and tips, telling me she had a "demon" (which at the time I thought was for poetic effect), and so I foolishly thought I was prepared.

After a few weeks of courtship and mixed signals we decided that neither of us was in a healthy place to be together. We already felt like we were falling in love but her sudden mood swings were triggering for me, having gotten out of an abusive relationship a few years prior. I went on a trip out of town for a week and the first night there we had a long, tearful conversation about "not now." That didn't last long after I returned, however, and a few visits as "friends" slowly slid back to the ways things were before. At this time she was working with a therapist and a psychiatrist, but after a few failed attempts to find medicine that didn't make her sick or too drowsy to function she gave up on the later.

To make a long story shorter, because of COVID she ended up moving in with me. Her terrible job made her stress constantly and she began smoking and drinking regularly, even on the clock. I began doing everything I could to soothe her, including the chores, not asking for rent money, and many times swallowing frustrations or pain I felt. She would take out her frustrations on me, and one of her favorite topics to pick at was my previous relationships with men (she's a lesbian, I identify as a queer woman). The rage would often build up all day and sometimes it would implode into deep depressive episodes that were only the tip of a suicidal iceberg. Some moments she would even threaten to leave and I would, in a panic, beg her to stay.

A few months later was the first time I was aware of encountering the "moods with personalities" as she describes them. I don't think that's accurate; her eyes, voice, and mannerisms change when these personalities come out, they refer to themselves and each other as different names than hers, and they don't always seem triggered by a mood. This is when the physical abuse set in: her angriest personality (which she meant by a "demon") has shoved me into walls and doors, lightly punched my face, forced me to perform sexual acts either with threats or sheer strength, and once held a knife to my throat and dared me to call the police. After most incidents my partner either couldn't remember or only remembered bits and pieces.

I was afraid and ashamed and didn't want to burden my closest people with this information so I kept it to myself until one night I came home and she wasn't there and wouldn't answer her phone. I thought she was dead and called my best friend and confessed what had happened, too beside myself with grief to think. It turned out she had just gone for a drive to calm down and didn't think it was necessary to let me know.

I've been seeing my own therapist for over a year and after telling her about the knife incident she began softly but firmly nudging me towards breaking up or at the very least not sharing the same living space. I resisted, locked into codependency and afraid of triggering the angry personality. However, a few months ago my partner quit her job and the constant rage spiraled into utter suicidal depression. There were just enough "good" moments to breed hope and this coupled with my job that requires intense, exhausting caregiving meant I just never felt like I had the energy to leave.

About a month ago I finally couldn't take being her emotional punching bag anymore; we began fighting almost constantly as I pushed back against the hurtful remarks and emotional disregard. After talking it through with my therapist, I finally told my partner that we should separate. Afraid for my own mental and emotional health during the break up, I called my parents and was honest about my year.

If the depression was heartbreaking before, this was an utter meltdown. She even begged me, something she had never done before. She was like a child being abandoned all over again. Every day there would be a point where she would message me that she gave up or I "won" or some other darkly foreboding phrase that would mean she wanted to end her life. I even caught her searching for guns. At some point, I became so overwhelmed I finally was honest about everything I had been experiencing that year. Shockingly, she stayed quiet and listened, apologizing.

After she talked with her therapist about what I said she seemed to be on a good road. She understood why we needed to separate and was making a plan to start looking into medication and meditation again. She was affectionate in a way she had not been all year, both physically and verbally. When I wanted to make a decision, instead of just letting me defer to her she would ask what I actually wanted. Despite struggling with talking about emotions, she did her best to tell me what she was feeling. We felt closer than ever and I really began to feel genuine hope that repairing could be possible in the future. Admittedly, I was also relieved that I would not have to go through the pain of parting so soon.

This past week, I visited my parents for Christmas and after some deep and thoughtful conversations, they reminded me that the situation was still unhealthy and a momentary honeymoon period did not guarantee my safety. Between my stressful job and stressful home, my life was not sustainable and I needed to get some breathing room between both. It was like with enough distance I could see my life from a third party perspective and could see all the ways it was unhealthy and dangerous. We made a plan to set a move out date for my partner and I felt encouraged and safe.

However, when I got home my partner was immediately distraught when I tentatively suggested the move out date. She seemed to think that separation was no longer on the table and I admit I probably gave mixed signals with not wanting her to leave. The idea of being alone again, without her "only" support system made life seem pointless. She began talking about taking her life again but this time it was calm and with purpose as she gently tried to reassure me it was going to be okay and that she we should enjoy the time we had left. In the middle of the night she left to go sleep in her car and I didn't realize it until hours later, practically begging her to come back home.

Through the night and next day she talked about needing to go to places to clean herself up and started making plans to give away her things. Panicked, I called my parents and told them I didn't know how much time I had until she would actually carry out her plans and it was suggested that I contact the local emergency crisis center. I'd called once before for information but it had been months and I was hoping someone would walk me through an emergency plan.

Unfortunately the operator told me he would have to call the police if he didn't hear from her and I was given a countdown to get home (I was in the store when I had called). I was horrified at the thought of the police for racial reasons but also because she had told me early on never to call the police lest she attempt suicide by police. I rushed home and had to wake her up. She'd been sick all while I was gone so she was still very weak and I tried to reassure her into voluntarily going with me to the facility. When we got there, there was only one entrance because of COVID and two of the noisiest tantrums were happening right inside. She was anxious already but loud noises really trigger her and it was the worst way to try to convince her to talk to the counselor. After the nurse took her temperature, I didn't even get a chance to hug her or kiss her goodbye; they made her empty her pockets, walk through a metal detector, and then on down the hall to a different area. It happened so fast that by the time I got to the car I had finally processed enough to start falling apart.

All last night she called me off and on swinging between distressed, betrayed, and pained abandonment. We had promised to spend New Year's Eve together (partially so that I could guarantee that she would be alive when I returned home) which is also our anniversary, and the decision to hold her in a hospital means that we won't be together for those days.

Right now she's in an in patient facility through the weekend and I can't stop answering the phone, even though I know my parents are really pushing for no contact. As I'm writing this I can feel that objectivity and knowing what an unhealthy situation this is, but the minute she calls I know that my heart is going to melt for the first person who actually imagined a future with me and shared a life with me. She says the facility is awful; the staff are uncaring, there's screaming from other patients, and everything seems dirty and cold. They didn't even have menstrual pads when she asked for them.

Please help me, my mind and heart are so torn and I'm scared of what will happen when she's released. I have managed to get her family and her therapist's numbers but I'm not sure how to keep both of us safe and healthy.

[Mutt]

Hi AnonEMoose



I'd like to welcome you to BPDFamily, I'm sorry for the circumstances that led you to our site here, I am gald that you have found us. There is hope.

As I'm writing this I can feel that objectivity and knowing what an unhealthy situation this is, but the minute she calls I know that my heart is going to melt for the first person who actually imagined a future with me and shared a life with me.

I think that your post describes the struggles of being in a r/s with a pwBPD, I am also gald that you had the courage to join the group after lurking the site for several months. You can see your story played out in the stories of other posters on the forums. I can hear how difficult and suffocating it is to be in this r/s and exciting it is that you have someone that you loved dearly. As you probably already know it feels like you're on an emotional roller coaster - every can feel like the highest highs and the lowest lows experienced in the same day.

Please help me, my mind and heart are so torn and I'm scared of what will happen when she's released. I have managed to get her family and her therapist's numbers but I'm not sure how to keep both of us safe and healthy.

She is in safe place at this moment - she's feeling really low and is getting the help that she needs. I'm sorry that you're going through this it has to be difficult to hear the feedback on the facilities that being said it's the best place for her for now. You have a T, when is your next appointment with the T? You have a support group here there is always someone to talk to or you can always join another discussion. It sounds like you a decent r/s with your parents, do you have a close confidant in real life?

Your T may have given you similar information I'll provide some resources for you that are on the site and off the site as well.


Duluth Model

Mosaic Assessment

www.thehotline.org

[Sontag]

Gosh, my heart bleeds for you, what a profoundly painful situation. I can relate to you in quite a bit of it - the struggle between wanting to retain and continue to develop such a deep and seemingly irreplaceable connection and that gnawing feeling that this really may not be the best for you nor end well, which is why you hesitate to tell anyone the whole truth. And then you do tell the truth and feel like you have somehow betrayed your partner. I don't have any answers for you, but I can tell you that for me, I'm plodding along in CoDependency groups. I realize that I am so utterly codependent that I will literally sacrifice my life or put myself in harm's way to avoid hurting/abandoning/rejecting other people in general, and multiply that times infinity when it comes to my last partner. I actually gave up a 30-year career and company that I had founded due to her demand and guess what? On the very day that I did - and there was no going back - that was the exact day that she left me. She told me that I was "useless". For years that has haunted me, no one has ever told me anything like that in my life. And it is such a strange thing to say to someone - especially someone whom you acknowledge had "loved you more consistently and deeply and knew you better than anyone in your life" (her words, not mine). The problem, of course, isn't that she actually said it - the problem is that I actually believed it...

I recently realized that I had completely misinterpreted what she had said. I thought that calling me "useless" meant that I had absolutely no value in the world and I internalized that so deeply. I literally went from being extremely high profile and world-class in my field for decades to becoming completely isolated and basically going broke. I now have to completely reinvent myself at a later stage in life that I could never have imagined. But I see now that what she meant was that I was no longer of any use TO HER. Think about that...I no longer had any use to her. Her love for me was equivalent to my usefulness in her life. She always use to gaslight me when I'd ask her about her behavior and she would say, "Jesus, why do you always think it's about you? It's not about you! You're such a narcissist!" And you know, she's right - it was NEVER about me, or who I was as a person. I didn't know it at the time (and did not find out until about 2 years later) that I had no use to her because she had already entered into another relationship. She was long gone. And yet even knowing that she was going to leave me, she didn't bother to stop me from blowing up my career and she very easily could have said something to prevent me from doing it. And despite it all, she broke up brutally and abruptly and absolutely ghosted me. She split. Literally. Split.

That was the most important relationship of my life up to this point in it. It was deep, and profound, and I grew a lot. She was absolutely brilliant, passionate, provocative, affectionate and heartbreakingly sweet - and was equally a total condescending, tough, entitled, critical, hypocritical, narcissistic pain in the ass. And she was the love of my life. It's taking me YEARS to get past this and to tell you the truth, I don't have that much time left on the planet. She got the best years of my life.

And here's what I learned: First and foremost, I am overwhelmingly codependent. Other people are far more important to me than I am to myself. For the life of me, I cannot find a balance between empathy and appropriate boundaries. This is a long effing road because half the time I just can't comprehend the fact that setting boundaries is not about keeping others out, it's about keeping yourself intact. But it still feels "mean" to me and therefore unacceptable. As a child, there was absolutely no one in my life that I could trust so I could either mistrust everyone or try desperately to find the good in people and ignore the bad. I chose the latter. I used to feel quite good about seeing the good things in people - it gave me a sense of pride in that I felt like I was a good person. But now I realize that for me it is not a choice - I HAVE to see the good in them in order to keep my world intact and therefore I ignore ALL of the bad, the warning signs, the direct messages to me like, for example, "I use sex to get close to and control people". That's what she told me right in the beginning of the relationship. You know how I heard that? I thought, "Wow, she's so brave in her honesty, what an incredible person!" (Are you laughing yet?) I think that healthy people would think, "RUN!" But not me, and I spent years accepting really bad behavior (never violent thank God, just a lot of yelling and brutal criticism on her part) for those exquisite moments of feeling truly seen and loved. But that's not really what it was and I'm still fighting the reality of that. It was just her way of reeling me back in so that she was the one in control and assured that I wouldn't leave her because of her nasty behavior. (I hate that word "nasty" but honestly, that combination of condescension and contempt fits perfectly).

So the second thing that I've learned is that you are ALL of that right up until they find someone else to "meet their needs". It does not matter what you shared; how much of yourself you gave; what you went through together; what you sacrificed, or even what you once meant to them. The moment they find an alternative - and believe me, they are totally loyal until they are suddenly not - you'll find the most brutal exit ramp you've ever experienced. No closure. No contact. They're done.  And, by the way, YOU are the one who is effed up and needs help - not them. In her case, damn, she was RIGHT! I DO need help, especially after THAT relationship! And even as I write this I feel guilty for saying anything bad about her! Come on, you gotta laugh...

Of course I don't know if this is your situation or not - but I recognize your devotion and compassion in the face of constant threats and abuse.  From the beginning of our relationship I always knew that there would be a rough landing. But somehow I thought that by asking about it in particular, by talking about it, by identifying it - "I can forgive your eff-ups as you request but please if the time comes that we have to say goodbye, please be gentle, please give me some compassion because it's going to be really tough for me" that's the interesting thing about many people with BPD: Their honesty is astounding. They ask for grace. They often warn you in advance so of course you look out for them and use a lot of care for particular issues. But when you ask for something yourself? Because you asked...It. Is. The. Last. Thing. You. Will. Ever. Get.

Okay I'm not even going to go back and edit this thing because I know a lot came out spontaneously. Wish me luck with the Codependency stuff - sometimes it feels silly as heck. And stupid, too. But I'm sometimes stupid, and silly, and always codependent so I must be in the right place! I want to tell you, "You're worth it" but you know, I don't even feel like I'm worth it myself. I'm still trying to understand what that means. It sounds like such a platitude. But man, I would love to be able to feel less like a hemophiliac in a world full of sharp knives...

[Turkish]

Please help me, my mind and heart are so torn and I'm scared of what will happen when she's released. I have managed to get her family and her therapist's numbers but I'm not sure how to keep both of us safe and healthy.

To be blunt, you've been threatened with potentially deadly violence. You may be able to help her, but the first rule of "first responders" is to be safe yourself before you can help others.

I encourage you to read Mutt's links, but you also need a safety plan.

https://bpdfamily.com/pdfs/safety-first-dv-1.pdf

Can you do that and tell us what you think?

[B53]

Sontag,
That brings tears to my eyes and pain to my heart. There could never be laughter.

You have both been through so much.

I went to CODA for five years. My T asked me to give it at least 3 meetings. The first time I went, after it was over, I got in my car and cried. All these people where in pain and I was already hurting, how could I face their’s  (codependent) too. I kept going, made friends and started to heal. I watched as people came in broken and saw them get better with the help of others. Like this place, people were there for me.

AEM, this is a great place, we are here for you!

[AnonEMoose]

Happy New Year, everyone. I'm going to try to respond as best I can.

She is in safe place at this moment - she's feeling really low and is getting the help that she needs. I'm sorry that you're going through this it has to be difficult to hear the feedback on the facilities that being said it's the best place for her for now. You have a T, when is your next appointment with the T? You have a support group here there is always someone to talk to or you can always join another discussion. It sounds like you a decent r/s with your parents, do you have a close confidant in real life?

Thank you, Mutt, for your encouragement. Unfortunately my T has been having some issues with the phone service (I think it's the program they're using), so sometimes when I call for an appointment it doesn't go through and the office is closed until 1/6. I left another voicemail so I'm hoping I can schedule something next week. And I do have a best friend who has been supporting me as well, so I do have additional support even though both are long distance.

And, by the way, YOU are the one who is effed up and needs help - not them. In her case, damn, she was RIGHT! I DO need help, especially after THAT relationship!

Thank you for sharing your story, Sontag, and I'm so sorry for all of the heartbreak you've endured. It really reminds me not to trust my feelings entirely; so many of the things you described about your approach to people I can relate to and that's why this phrase you said has actually given me something concrete to hold onto (with Turkish echoing it)--- the fact that I can't help her while I need help myself (intellectually I know that I'm not a professional and that our relationship is too dysfunctional for me to support her, but those concepts feel so nebulous when she's right there and asking for ME to help her).

Can you do that and tell us what you think?

Thank you for this resource, Turkish, and I'll let you know what I develop. I skimmed the packet but I'm going to do an in depth look this weekend and share it with my support system. I really wish I'd had this link earlier in the year but I admit that I don't know that I'd have used it like I will now.

I went to CODA for five years. My T asked me to give it at least 3 meetings. The first time I went, after it was over, I got in my car and cried. All these people where in pain and I was already hurting, how could I face their’s  (codependent) too. I kept going, made friends and started to heal. I watched as people came in broken and saw them get better with the help of others. Like this place, people were there for me.

I had never heard of CODA but I'm glad you brought this to my attention, B53. I also will try to be mindful that being around hurt people like me will trigger that reflex to want to care for their pain--- I can already see me unconsciously wanting to take on a caretaker role and that's a good thing to prepare for.

As of right now she hasn't called me for 24 hours but I'm lucky in that I have a lot to keep me busy until she's released, so I'm trying not to worry about it and taking it one day at a time.

[AnonEMoose]

An update

Things escalated way more than I anticipated, but luckily I am safe and alive.

She was released this past Sunday morning and instead of trying to go to her family's like I urged, the hospital called her a lyft to the airport so she could wait for me all day. She was clingy when I finally arrive, but it was late, I was feeling weak from cramps, and I tried to prepare to go to work the next day so I tried to just focus on the end goal. I had cleaned a lot and moved a good portion of her things to where she had initially started packing which momentarily triggered some sadness but I did my best to soothe and diffuse. I learned that the hospital had been able to prescribe her some medication, so that felt like progress and a relief.

I was supposed to have a photoshoot the next night (yesterday night as I write this) but when I got home she was in the bedroom in the dark, sobbing. She hadn't eaten or drank anything all day and so I tried my best to encourage her to do that. Earlier in the year she had showed me her mother's engagement ring that she had inherited and it fit me surprisingly well. That night she insisted on giving it to me but said she wasn't proposing, she just knew she wasn't going to give it to anybody else. She then admitted she had something she needed to tell me and tried to gently confess that she had made an "impulse purchase."

I knew immediately that it had to be a gun, and I started asking questions about where it was, how long, etc. She said it was in the trunk of her car (not easily accessible, she parks in a separate parking lot) but it didn't have any ammo. Up until this point I had thought that it would be extremely difficult for her to obtain since she had always ranted about the background checks, but it looks like that hadn't been an issue. I started stalling: I suggested we go pick up her medication and I drove her to the pharmacy. Once she was inside, I called my mom and let her know what I knew. The plan was to pack for the shoot as normal but to include enough so that I could be away for a few days, then find a hotel in a different city. The shoot was late, so I was filling the time as best I could making dinner and watching TV.

What I didn't know was that in those few hours my parents had talked to a few different professionals, which ended up with the police being sent to the house. I think I mentioned this before, but this is absolutely the last thing that would feel safe for either of us because of our race (I didn't know that my mom had both tried to call and text to warn me and that she was very careful to mention this to the dispatcher). The two officers separated us and eventually I gave them enough information that they took my gfwBPD? exwBPD? to the hospital. At least this time I got to hug and kiss her goodbye.

I went to try to open her trunk and it was stuck, as it had been all year, and wouldn't open. That's when I started to have the creeping realization that she wasn't being honest with me--- not just hiding, but outright lying. I got back to the house and when she called she told me it wasn't in the car, that she'd told me that so I wouldn't freak out. I started looking through her things while she tried to make me promise not to tell anyone if she told me the location. I found the empty bag and the instructions as well as a lock. My heart froze; up until now I'd really hoped that it might be a bluff. After pushing back that she had broken boundaries and that my name was on the lease, she revealed it had been right under the bed the whole time (at least a week since she'd gotten it, which I'm pretty sure was when I was out of town the first time) and I found a full box of bullets with it, all easily accessible where she'd been all day.

I was urged to get out of there immediately and I'm in a safe location with my parents on the way. She does not have a key to the house. I know that it must be obvious to so many experts, but I'm in complete shock and can just barely actually process that it's real. I called her T to let her know what happened (my own T is still on vacation) and I'm planning on finally calling her family, mostly because I've been told I can't legally remove or have anyone else remove the gun. Mostly I'm just grateful both of us are still alive.

[Mutt]

I was urged to get out of there immediately and I'm in a safe location with my parents on the way. She does not have a key to the house. I know that it must be obvious to so many experts, but I'm in complete shock and can just barely actually process that it's real. I called her T to let her know what happened (my own T is still on vacation) and I'm planning on finally calling her family, mostly because I've been told I can't legally remove or have anyone else remove the gun. Mostly I'm just grateful both of us are still alive.

Wow that's a scary situation but I'm glad to hear that you're safe and sound. It sounds like your navigating a difficult situation fairly well but I would think that underneath it all it has to be tough. I'm glad that you got it off of your chest. I'm glad to hear that you shared it with family and her T and yours soon when they are back from vacation. It's that time of the year unfortunately but I would that you connect with them soon. Please find some time for some self care and take really good care of yourself.

[formflier]

[ I've been told I can't legally remove or have anyone else remove the gun. Mostly I'm just grateful both of us are still alive.

Have you had a conversation with a lawyer about this?

If not, please do so before you make ANY decisions based on what you have been told about the law.

Please protect yourself.

Best,

FF

[Turkish]

My mostly anti gun elderly mother bought a shotgun at a garage same some years ago for protection. I made sure she didn't have shells, and it went into one of her hoard bedrooms. Illegal sale and purchase here in Cali... friends later "borrowed" it and didn't return it, also illegal here, but it was gone.

Your priority is being yourself safe. Do you have an idea on the disposition of the pistol? Given her instability, I wouldn't trust being safe. The pathetic thing about background checks in the USA is that the vast majority of the cases where people lie on the forms aren't prosecuted or followed up upon. And in the case of my mother who lived in a rural area, people get firearms under the radar despite private sales without going through a dealer with a background check and waiting period being illegal here for 30 years or more.

[AnonEMoose]

Hi, all. A couple updates: the weapon has been disposed of legally and all of her belongings have been handed over to her family who have been incredibly understanding and supportive.

When I say I am "safe," I mean I have changed locations and my family is with me, so there is added protection and distance.

Right now I'm reeling from how much my life has been turned upside down; so many emotions to process, so much grieving, but I'm trying to take it one step at a time.