He told all of his family and friends that I asked for a divorce because he was deploying to Afghanistan and that I was a crazy controlling witch. The real reason we were divorcing was because he was texting girls he met online and telling them he loved them and wanted to be with them. I also found his online dating profile on my laptop, and when I confronted him about it, he said his friends made the profile as a joke. The profile used the same username and password that he used for everything.
The final straw was when I came home from a trip to see my family and walked into our bedroom to find another girl’s clothes. I asked whose they were and why they were there, and he said he had gone to the bar with some people from his troop and she was too intoxicated and had to spend the night. Apparently he slept on the couch. I asked what she left the apartment wearing, and he gave her my favorite pair of sweatpants to wear home.
I never got those back either. The cheating was bad enough, but giving away my favorite sweatpants, too? The man really wanted the divorce paperwork expedited. My roommate had a crazy ex who would call him twenty times and leave five voicemails a day.
This had been going on for about a week, and I asked him if he had ever listened to the voicemails or called her back, and he said, “Hell no, she’s just being crazy as crap. ” The following week I talked to her roommate and asked why she was calling him so much. It was because he had taken her purity and she wanted it back. Besides that, the actual reason was that the night they broke up, he apparently went to her house, took a bath, smashed all her windows, and slashed all her tires.
Never knew my roommate was broken up so hard by it, nor had the anger to actually act on it. I was in an abusive marriage for a bit. Emotional and psychological abusers work very hard and very effectively to control the narrative. My ex-wife knew exactly what angles to take to isolate me from support systems.
Stuff like convincing me my family didn’t support my hobbies and never allowed me to be me, but she went one step beyond that. Once she had me not bothering to call home basically ever, she started reaching out to my mother while I was off work. They’d have heart-to-hearts, and she’d sympathize with my mother about me never calling and claimed she was very concerned that I was falling away from the faith. My family is religious.
She had my mother worried sick and praying for me constantly and had me isolated and unable to set the record straight. First they disable your ability to affect how people perceive things, and they become the sole narrator. When I divorced her, I lost every single mutual friend we had, and that was fine. I didn’t have the energy to battle the narrative.
I don’t know if this qualifies as crazy, but I reported my ex’s video to YouTube from like forty different accounts to get it taken down. Why, you ask? Because I was like sixteen, and he had been secretly recording intimate moments on his MacBook without my knowledge and then compiled it into a five-minute highly inappropriate video that asked me to prom at the end. He then posted it on Facebook and his crappy YouTube account for everyone to see.
All clothes were on during it, but it was still pretty raunchy. And I got ripped on pretty hard for it that summer at my job. I pretended to laugh it off, but every night I was going home and making a new YouTube account to report the video until it got taken down, because he refused to delete it. I don’t even think people in my life know that I dated this particular ex, because he was so terrible that I never ever mention him.
My ex and I started dating when I was about nineteen. He was a few years older, but nothing crazy. From the vantage point of being a bit older and more self-aware, I can now confidently state that I was out of his league. At the time, however, I had very fragile self-esteem.
Understatement right there. I thought he was amazing. He’s not. He’s so incredibly average in every single way, and there’s not a remotely interesting bone in his body.
He is extraordinarily manipulative though. When we started dating, he would ask me to come over every night, never wanting to not have me around. Within two months of dating, he asked me to move in with him. Naturally, I thought this meant that he was really serious about me, and since I don’t really know what love was, I assumed I was in love with him.
So we moved in together, and his true side came out. He would regularly physically abuse me and force himself on me. I didn’t think it was that word then because I loved him, but he was violently forcing himself on me. I told him that I didn’t like it when he did that, and he said it was his right, and he wouldn’t want to have intimacy with me otherwise.
I was essentially always crying and covered in bruises. He told me every single day that I was worthless and no one would ever love me, and I one hundred percent believed him. He would cheat on me at her home loudly, and then tell me it was because I wasn’t attractive enough for him. I would have random breakdowns at work, couldn’t handle social interactions, dropped out of school, and eventually reached a severe mental health crisis and tried to harm myself.
But our plumbing was always screwed, and I couldn’t get a full tub of hot water. It was probably less than tepid, so I didn’t bleed out fast enough. When he came home, I wasn’t conscious but still alive. He pulled me out, slapped me awake, and told me that I was so useless I couldn’t even do that right, and just left the house.
I don’t know why, but that hit some kind of a switch in my brain, and I called a good friend of mine. We hadn’t spoken in months because my ex had made it impossible for me to socialize. I told him to come get me. When he showed up and saw me, he started packing all of my stuff into his car and moved me out of the apartment that night.
I’ve never spoken to my ex again. He, however, tells everyone that I was a nut job, I was clingy, I wasn’t adventurous in bed, and that I had the audacity to just move out without telling him and making him pay all the rent. Hey Ryan, you can go screw yourself, you sociopathic piece of crap. Thanks for the support, guys.
I eventually sought out counseling and slowly pieced my life back together. I’m now happy and dating an incredible man who loves and respects me. More importantly, I love and respect myself. Unfortunately, my story isn’t that uncommon, especially when women are young and come from a history of abuse.
It’s easy to fall into these situations, and once you’re there, it feels like you have no options. I don’t know exactly how I managed to break out of it, but all I can say is that therapy can be really wonderful for a lot of people, and you should seek it out before your situation gets really dark. I wasn’t cool with moving from being her boyfriend to being her side piece while she tried to get back with her ex. She explained to him that I was just a nobody in her life for the two years we dated while she waited for him to come back to her.
And then I got to hear from her after I found out a bunch of crap that his friends thought she never loved anyone after him and how I was just a placeholder, and she agreed with him to me that it was true. Somehow we dated for another six months. I’m most likely clinically stupid, still dated another month or two after I was seriously threatened during an argument, and ended up in jail for calling the police and then not telling them what happened. Yep, definitely stupid.
Happily single for two years now. This story is obviously a lot more complicated than this. In hindsight, these were some of the bigger issues during that period of the relationship. There was also a crazy ex in the story, which is why I haven’t dated since.
I always felt like my craziness was due to things out of my control in the relationship, but given that I’m so much happier now than I was then, I’ve been staying away from getting too close to anyone. I wouldn’t wish what happened to me in that relationship on my greatest enemies, but I did love her, and I hope she’s happy now. Not me, but a client. I know her ex’s friends call her the crazy ex.
As a couple, they were together almost thirty years. Very conservative, religious, and he had a great banking job, and she was a stay-at-home mom who volunteered for the church. Nice house, great kids, decent American cars, just really great on the surface. After twenty-eight years, all the kids are grown, she got a job at a little boutique designing yoga pants and whatnot.
Anyway, she gets a job, it barely pays anything, but then she files for divorce. It turns out all this time her husband has been a miser. That may not seem so bad on the surface, but he was a horrible miser. Washing the aluminum foil to reuse it.
A little bit of recycling is fine. Reusing it till it’s falling apart is not reasonable. Didn’t go to the doctor, wouldn’t get braces for the kids because it was too expensive. No vacations, no pets, no luxuries of any kind.
The reason she knows how to design is because she had to sew everything in their house. The reason she got into running was because it was the only activity she could do that was free. Now they have the nice house and the decent cars, not one cent of debt, and tons of savings and retirement accounts. The guy’s been socking away money for years and telling his wife that she’s nothing but a bloody drain on his resources.
No way will he pay for the kids’ college funds. The minute she files for divorce, everyone turns on her. You’re not supposed to get divorced in their religion, and how crazy is she? She’s got a husband with a job and a nice house, and she’s leaving all that?
What? Furthermore, in this state, for a marriage of long duration, it’s assumed that the assets will be split fifty-fifty. The courts believe that a non-working spouse’s donations to the marital estate are as good as an employed spouse’s donations. So, my client gets half the savings, half the value of the nice house, half the retirement account, and she gets a little alimony for a few years.
First thing she does is go out and rescue a mutt. Every time I see her, she looks happier and happier. She’s going to be okay. Her clothing line is starting to take off, but last time I saw her, she said she ran into one of her ex’s friends and he started chatting at her that she ruined her ex, she’s awful and deserves to go to hell.
His wife is pulling him away and saying, “Honey, don’t. The crazy witch isn’t worth it. ”
I was told I was a crazy ex once. He said I was too attached, whiny, all of that crap.
I’ve never been that way, really, but he would be really distant with me, then get intoxicated or something and cry and tell me how much he loved me, so I was constantly getting sent mixed signals, and it was honestly driving me crazy. He would also hang out with his really attractive ex who dumped him and who, as far as I know, he never really got over. But I was fine with it because if he was super vulnerable, it would be all, “I love you. You mean so much to me.
” Also, he was the dude who took my purity, so that was super weird. He just generally brought out a lot of insecurity in me that manifested in some crappy and pathetic ways. Turns out he was cheating on me with his ex, random girls, and one of my best friends, so yeah. I was whiny, needy, had frequent emotional outbursts.
Even after finding out a lot of that crap, I still begged him to take me back for like a week. Luckily, this experience taught me a lot about self-respect. I’m now pretty skeptical when guys say they have a crazy ex unless she’s really done something crazy. Some people can be really awful, but they also see many cases of people really being driven crazy temporarily by getting manipulated.
I have a friend right now who’s in a spot like that and even calls herself crazy, but her guy is sleeping with half the block and then tells her he loves her. Makes a person weird. She cheated on me several times. At least three different guys that I know about, anyway.
I made the colossal mistake of forgiving her each time. I had self-confidence issues and figured that if I let her go, I was letting go of the last pretty girl that would ever want me. Instead, it turned into the crazy controlling boyfriend that every girl seems to encounter at one point or another. I wanted to know where she was, who she was with, et cetera, at all times.
Was she drinking? How old were the people she was with? Just all kinds of crazy manipulative crap. I finally broke up with her because, even through all of this, she absolutely wouldn’t break up with me, which was more manipulative crap.
As long as she was home, I was an absolute angel to her. I wasn’t even aware that I was doing that one. Took me about three months after the breakup to come to terms with the fact that I was a huge douchebag to her. I was that guy that you’ll probably tell everyone who will listen about because he was insane.
I ended up in a new relationship three years later, and it was great. Lasted two and a half years, and we broke up amiably due to life stuff we can’t really control, but I am happy to say I’ve never been that guy again. I am the crazy ex of an alcoholic. Everyone watched me cry when he would go to the bars, thought that I was jealous and horrible.
Saw me gain tons of weight from quitting all forms of exercise and staying up all night waiting for him, eating popcorn or cereal or chips to stay awake. From the outside, I looked like a nutcase. He’d go to a party, would start to become that guy, the one making a scene due to being intoxicated. I started trying to stop him from getting to that point and was looked at like a party pooper, ruining everyone’s fun.
Calling him when he was out drinking to beg him to come home made me an annoying witch. For sure, I was crazy. Toward the end, I hardly slept. I lost my job.
I couldn’t believe it when he cheated on me. I got even more nuts. His friends didn’t believe me. His family didn’t want to hear it.
I was a crazy witch. What they didn’t want to see was the fact that he never stopped drinking at the party or the bar. It would go on elsewhere or all night at home. I’d have to come get him in the middle of the night after a stranger, a bouncer, or a hospital ER called me.
Then it killed him. Finally, people believed me. Suddenly I was no longer a crazy nut witch, but now I was angry. Where were all these people when I was begging for help?
I lost touch with most of them. His family couldn’t bear my presence. I knew what they didn’t want to know. I went even crazier for a while, but it was inward, and no one blamed me for it.
Took a solid year of absolute hell to deal with it. That’s the cruelest plot twist. Everyone called her crazy until the exact thing she was warning them about finally happened. All right, well, since she referred to me as one, I guess I can participate.
I lived with my ex for over nine years. We did everything together. She was my best friend, literally the most important person in my life. I was closer to her than I’ve ever been to anyone by a significant margin.
I truly loved her like she was my wife or my family. It’s been three years since we broke up, and the idea of dating someone else still feels wrong to me. That’s how committed I was. If you’ve ever really loved someone for a long time, then you know I’m not exaggerating.
We didn’t grow apart. We got along just fine when we were together, laughing and joking, similar sense of humor, similar values, similar life goals. Never got boring. Never ran out of things to talk about.
Our bedroom was never dead. Nothing significant happened to break us up. You just have to take my word for it. I’ve explored it with three different therapists, and they all agree with me about what happened.
That’s a different discussion, though. The thing is, when she decided to break up with me, it was like a switch was flipped. All of a sudden, I wasn’t an individual. I was just her ex, an idea, a complete stranger.
I was her best friend for almost a decade, but suddenly it was like she didn’t even know me. It was like that entire decade, something profoundly meaningful to me, had been erased overnight. Not only that, but so much effort, time, and devotion I could have been spending energy on myself instead of her. She was almost gleeful about the breakup, like it was funny.
She showed no sadness whatsoever. Since the morning she broke up with me three years ago, I’ve spoken to her for maybe a total of three hours. Also, if there was anything negative about our relationship, it’s that she wouldn’t stop talking to her ex from junior high. We’re in our twenties, and this dude comes knocking at her window in the middle of the night because he’s still obsessed with her.
He even groped her while I was in there one time, and she had to leave the apartment, but despite all my complaints, she wouldn’t stop being friends with him. The day we broke up, this dude is over at her work trying to get back together with her. It’s worse than that, but it would take too long to type it all out. Anyway, she’s still friends with him, but I’m her crazy ex.
Why? Because I became extremely emotional over the breakup and sent her lots of texts and called her many times to try to talk to her about what was going on. She also stole my dog. Did I break anything?
No. Did I show up at her apartment? No. Did I contact her relatives?
No. Did I threaten her? No. I was crazy for feeling feelings about losing the most important person in my life.
She also gave her cat away, who we had for five years, and when I called to find out where the cat was, her intoxicated friends who she had known for like two weeks answered the phone and wouldn’t let me talk to her because I’m the bad guy for being her ex. I never got the cat back. These people were in their late twenties. He cheated on me for the entire two years of our relationship.
He used his computer as a TV. Left it open after he left for work, and she started sending him inappropriate photos while I was having coffee and watching something while eating breakfast. When I confronted him, he blamed me for snooping in his Facebook and said he’d known her longer. He then lied to all his friends, said I was crazy, controlling, and never wanted to have intimacy with him.
All of these things were opposite to the truth. Over the course of our relationship, we went on vacation, and he went without me. I was actually uninvited on the first year after him initially telling me it was our trip to celebrate both of our anniversaries. Wanted me to quit my university program despite getting honor level marks, and he had performance issues related to performance anxiety.
We had intimacy as much as he was able. I haven’t spoken to him or his friends since the day we broke up. Haven’t thought about it in ages, but I’m sure his social circle still believes whatever he told them about me. I couldn’t care less.
I’m pretty sure my ex-husband’s family still thinks I’m a completely insane drama queen who was just with her son for his money and was sleeping with the whole town. Basically, it was an abusive marriage, and he tried to make himself a victim by telling everyone he only slept around because I was doing it all the time. I wasn’t. We never had money because I spent it all on bullcrap like my own vacations.
What? What little money we had, I always felt real weird spending because I hadn’t earned it myself. I paid the bills. He went out buying tattoos, going out to eat, strip clubs, video games, etc.
I did legit go on vacation once, but with my own money. He bought a house and abandoned it when we split up. He told everyone I convinced him to buy the house, but we were living out of state, and I wanted to move back home. Why would I want to buy a house somewhere I didn’t want to live for much longer?
I was apparently so incredibly strict and awful because I didn’t want him drinking so much. But he never told anyone how he came home intoxicated and tried to seriously harm me with a pillow, or that he wrecked his car because he was driving while intoxicated. Or going to strip clubs. He went to ones with private rooms.
I just accepted it and never tried to stick up for myself after we got divorced. His family can think whatever they want about me and about their son. They’re delusional. I mean, like three years after we split, he got busted by the cops for buying legal substances and soliciting escorts.
He’s on wife number three and he’s thirty-one, so whatever. I’ll be the crazy problematic one. Oh, it’s fine. Number one, he really did cheat on me.
I wasn’t delusional or projecting, no matter how much he claimed that I was. Number two, I did not cheat on him and then rub it in his face. He found out somehow that four months after I dumped him, I’d slept with a mutual friend. This led to a serious mental health crisis with a letter blaming my supposed infidelity.
Number three, I never once logged into his bank account. I don’t know why anyone believes I stole money from him, seeing as he never had a job and therefore no money either. Four, yes, I did threaten to call the cops on him. No, I wasn’t planning on faking that he hit me.
He was threatening to harm himself. There are a lot of people I don’t really speak to anymore because I choose to be private, and he chose to make a lot of crap up. It’s okay, though. I didn’t suffer any great losses.
I kept his kitten and refused to give her back to him when he broke up with me. She had been exclusively living in my house for close to six months because his place wasn’t pet-friendly. I’d been paying for all her supplies, scheduling all her vet appointments, and taking care of her every day. She had formed bonds with both my cat and dog.
She was in a loving, stable environment where she would have companions when someone wasn’t home. He worked nine to ten hours a day on top of classes. Would have had her alone in his bedroom all day and barely took charge of making sure she was taken care of. When he broke up with me, he made me drive forty-five minutes to him to break up with me.
Are you serious? I kept her because his place wasn’t pet-friendly. She had been scheduled for a spay, and I went ahead and went through with it because she was a year old and still not fixed. He didn’t check on her at all despite knowing she had surgery.
That’s when I decided I was going to keep her. I put too much time, energy, and love into her just to hand her off to someone who cared more about the novelty of having a pet rather than properly caring for her. We had a very heated conversation in which he threatened to call the cops for violating a verbal contract. I told him to go ahead.
All the vet bills are in my name, as is the pet registration. He probably labeled me as the crazy ex who stole his cat, but I don’t care. She’s in a stable environment in a home where I know she’s getting the love and care she deserves. Probably my first girlfriend.
We were in college, and for most things we were each other’s firsts. First kiss for her, first significant other, first people who ever had intimacy with. However, over time, she was clearly unhappy with the relationship, and going into our senior year, we agreed to take a little break for the summer while she was out on an internship in Orlando. Well, when she was down there, she fell in love with another guy, and we broke up.
For a while before this, we would have fights, and in general I acted like a schmuck. Though to be fair, she definitely had her moments when she was mean and rude to me as well. But after we broke up, I really did become a freaking mess. Constantly texting her and would fight about how I was betrayed and all this crap.
And that all led to the point where she blocked me on Facebook and didn’t want anything more to do with me. It didn’t help though that she was also telling me how much she loved her new boyfriend, how the intimacy was so much more intimate and better, et cetera. Eventually later on though, I texted her to apologize to her for my behavior, that I was sorry and I was such a crazy and psychotic schmuck, and she apologized for the way she handled things too. We still don’t talk though, partly because even later on I made a joke about how I was better off than I was four years ago when Obama was reelected, with the implication being that I wasn’t with her anymore.
I’m not proud of myself for everything that happened, but if I had a chance to go back to the party where I first met her and, instead of trying to land the bottle of spin the bottle on her, just avoid her, I wouldn’t do it. Lots of painful lessons there, but there were some good that came out of it. I learned a lot about what you shouldn’t do in a relationship and have had a few more girlfriends since then. My last ex, I actually have a much better relationship with, to the point where she calls me her good ex because I’m not a freaking psycho trying to crawl back into every facet of her life.
I was the crazy one. I said some regrettable things about how classless it was to come to the place we both worked while I was there right after we broke up. My temper was out of control, but it was all my fault anyway. The three years we dated, she was a beautiful flower, and I was an idiot child trampling all over it.
Never did anything directly abusive, but I was nuts, just ran in circles around her. She saw a person in me that I couldn’t be. Saw the light after this, got my diagnosis, bipolar, social anxiety, etc. , and treatment, and I’m a wholly different person.
We’ve made peace. Life goes on. A guy I was dating just stopped texting me or calling me back out of nowhere. He lived in another state, so we hadn’t seen each other in a while.
He finally sent me one sentence that it was over and he was seeing someone else. I went a little nuts every time I drank and would text him. I know he was telling all our friends I was crazy, but looking back, I think I was justified in wanting more information or some closure. I was admittedly a bit crazy and not always a great boyfriend.
I was jealous and insecure due to not properly dealing with some personal issues that arose during our relationship. I proposed to her, and she said yes, but we were both young, stupid, and I didn’t have my crap together as well as she did. It eventually fell apart in spectacular fashion, and I fell apart personally too for a while. After the breakup, I got some help with my issues, got healthy and confident, dropped the whole jealous all the time thing, and had some very successful and fulfilling relationships after that.
I’ve been with someone for four years now. Just got married last year. As far as I know, my ex got married to someone else, had some kids, and is doing well herself. So it’s all good.
Oh boy, I’m crazy because when he broke up with me he told me, “I like her now too, but I can keep dating you if you want. ” And I just couldn’t handle that. That started a whirlwind of me crying and leaving rooms if I saw them together, freaking out on other people, on him, etc. And he was in general, screw this witch behind my back and to my face about it all.
Essentially, we tried to maintain a friendship, but I was overly sensitive, and he was his typical self, plus slightly more cruel so as to create more distance between us. I grew up in a strict household and clung to every single relationship that I could possibly maintain. As much as you can maybe maintain a friendship when you can only hang out with them outside of school once a month, maybe. So when we broke up, it hurt me far deeper than I expected, as he was one of the few people that actually knew me.
To lose that felt like a rejection of all of me as a person. My family didn’t know me, only my friends did. So to lose a friend felt like I was losing a part of myself. Still feel invisible if I’m alone.
I really was a crying, annoying, desperate witch though, but he was also a callous bastard about it too. She had all sorts of issues, and I wasn’t mature enough to handle them. Broke it off while visiting my parents for Christmas after we fought on Skype, and it was the last straw. Regretted it and tried to get her back when I returned, and she strung me along for a couple weeks until she completely cut off communication for a month.
Turns out she met someone else while visiting another show that needed me as backup. I’d lent her my TV, and she refused to give it back, saying it was a gift, which it wasn’t. I just had another bigger TV, and the small one didn’t fit in my room that year, so I let her have it. Took me two weeks and actual threats to get her to give it back.
Aside from that incident, I later found out she had told people I left her so I could get two weeks as a single guy to screw hot girls in my hometown, while stating I was pestering her and stalking her when I got back. Oh, and the kicker is I later see pics on Facebook with her partying with a guy who she told me had tried to take advantage of her while she was intoxicated. After I confronted her with the fact that someone I knew saw them go in a room together at a party I wasn’t at while we were together. Took me a year to get over her, but now I’m thankful she found someone else, because she was a toxic individual and serial liar.
Dodged a liar, got the TV back, and eventually got his peace too. Not the worst breakup package. I had an awful ex that I met at a very low point in my life. He was a compulsive liar and cheater.
Loved to tell lies about me all the time, including that I cheated on him. Never. That he had bought me an engagement ring. Nope.
And then the thing I found most hilarious was that he told people that I stabbed him. I’m five-foot-ten, and this guy was five-foot-five and scrawny as heck. If I did decide to stab him, he wouldn’t be walking around flapping his gums about it trying to solicit sympathy. So, according to him, I’m a crazy ex.
About five years ago, I met this guy on OKCupid, and we had absolutely everything in common on the surface. I was really excited to have met someone that I meshed so well with, so we talked for a few days and decided to meet up. Right away, a red flag started waving. He didn’t have a car because he didn’t drive, partially because he was afraid to.
He claimed he was a veteran and had been in a car bomb explosion in Iraq, though I could never find any evidence of him ever being in the military. And because he didn’t have a job and thus couldn’t afford a car. Also, I couldn’t pick him up at his house because he supposedly had a crazy roommate who freaked out if anyone came over. So for our first date, I had to pick him up from a local park.
I picked him up that first night, and as soon as he got in the car, I was hit with a strong odor of musty cat pee. Gross, but whatever. He was a nice guy, and I was going to give him a chance. Side note, turns out the smell was from his roommate’s cat who liked to pee in his leather jacket, which he continued to wear without cleaning it.
Ew. Asked him to please not wear it again around me until it had been cleaned. Anyway, we dated casually for a couple weeks, and it was fun enough, though I didn’t allow my feelings for him to develop too much, since I had a persistent feeling that there was just something he wasn’t telling me. Something big.
There were specific times he couldn’t hang out and told me to never ever show up at his house so his roommate wouldn’t flip out. He claimed his cell phone had gone shut off so he couldn’t text or call, but I’d seen him make calls and texts on it while we were together. When I commented on it, he claimed he had got a prepaid card, but it was only enough for one day. It was all just really fishy.
Anyway, one night we were hanging out at my house just messing around on the internet and watching TV. And he opened up my Facebook, and I had a friend request from some random girl. I said out loud, “Huh, who’s [name]? I don’t think I know her.
” His face drained of all color. He blurted out, “Oh crap, that’s my ex. Don’t add her, she’s totally crazy. ” So, of course, I added her, my curiosity very piqued by his extremely suspicious reaction.
I started poking around her profile, and it was an absolute goldmine. All the suspicions I had about this guy’s shadiness were immediately validated. She wasn’t his ex. She was his current live-in girlfriend, and she was six months pregnant.
Her wall was full of statuses about the two of them shopping for baby clothes, picking out names, and how he was such a good dad-to-be for putting the crib together. He didn’t have a paranoid roommate. He had a freaking pregnant girlfriend. I was furious.
I set my laptop down in front of him with her profile open and silently waited for him to explain himself. And the utter bullcrap that came out of his mouth is still burned into my brain to this day. According to him, he had broken up with her several months ago, but she apparently didn’t get it, and she wouldn’t let him leave her. He seriously tried to claim that she was forcing him to stay in the relationship and in her house against his will.
The pregnancy was an accident. He didn’t want the baby and had no intention of sticking around to help raise it. And for the life of me, I can’t understand why the hell he thought abandoning an innocent child would make me want to be with him. He only lied to me because he was afraid I wouldn’t date him if I knew he had a girlfriend.
Well, duh. He began to cry hysterically and begged me not to break up with him. And when I said there’s no way I’d ever be able to trust him, and thus there couldn’t be a relationship, he got mad at me, called me mean, and threw a screaming, stomping fit. Kind of scared me, because he was acting like he might actually hit me.
It was unreal. Needless to say, I dumped him. We were still connected on social media, mainly because I wasn’t a very active user and didn’t get on often enough to maintain my lists very well. I logged onto Twitter one day, about two weeks after the breakup, and saw a bunch of butt-hurt rants he posted about cold-hearted witches, and that men only lie because women are so cruel to them when they do tell the truth.
Just pathetic man-baby bullcrap. Then I saw his latest tweet that he posted eleven days after the breakup, where he announced that he was engaged. Oh my. Eleven days after I supposedly broke his heart, he’s already engaged to some woman he met online and had not yet met in real life.
I probably shouldn’t have, but I replied to the tweet with something like, “Wow, that didn’t take long. Who’s the lucky lady? ” with a laughing face emoji. When I logged onto Facebook later that day, I saw a post from him where he named me specifically and warned all his friends and family that his crazy, psychotic, obsessed ex-girlfriend was talking and pestering him, and if I tried to contact them, to call the police on me.
He also sent me a long rambling message where he called me all sorts of names, accused me of stalking him, and threatened to get a VPO against me if I ever tweeted at him again. All I could do was laugh. I peeked at his profiles for a couple more weeks after that, and he continued to post more ridiculous bullcrap about how crazy I was and how I broke his heart and ruined his life with my meanness. His pregnant girlfriend actually contacted me shortly after the breakup and told me I wasn’t the first girl he had cheated with, and that he had never once tried to break up with her.
She had broken up with him once she found out about me. I guess I was the last straw. She said he took several weeks to get the hell out of her house after she dumped him, and during that time he seriously asked her to go stay in a hotel for a week so his fiancee could come visit him in her house. I can’t even make this crap up.
So that’s how I became the crazy ex to a lying, cheating, self-pitying schmuck. I was living with my then boyfriend, who was diagnosed bipolar with PTSD. He had cyclothymia, so we were a moody duo. He was doing nothing with his life besides indirect marketing, making pop-up ads, sleeping all day, playing video games all night.
I was going for my masters at NYU, doing a twenty-one-hour week internship, and working full-time on top of that. It started with him not being home when I was home. I started to get lonely, had friends come over to keep me company while he was gone. He told me he was out playing Magic with his friend, who was a female that he told me he had feelings for.
Every night he would come home later and later. Sometimes still wouldn’t be home when I woke up at six. So obviously I thought he was cheating. He would also get very mad if I had friends or family over while he wasn’t there, but would also make them leave upon him returning.
We broke up because I couldn’t handle him being with his friend he was in love with, and I wasn’t allowed to see my friends. I was literally having panic attacks every two hours, but still lived together during finals week. And this is when I sabotaged the apartment before I moved out. I had gorgonzola in the air vents throughout the apartment and under the couches, loosened all of the visible pipes, didn’t wash any dishes during my last week there, put glitter in the laundry detergent, oil in the dish soap, and before I walked out, left his toothbrush in the toilet and the fridge and freezer doors wide open.
They’d just gone food shopping. We were in an open relationship. Most people assume that I cheated on him, and when I try to explain, people don’t understand the concept behind an open relationship. Intimacy is a natural desire, and he refused to give it to me.
We talked about it and came up with the idea of an open relationship. I broke up with him soon after because of other things. All of it is complicated even when explaining it in person. It only made sense to me and my ex.
I’ve never gone into an open relationship with anyone else. We were both very open-minded. My ex called me crazy. My ex was the hottest woman I ever dated.
Doctoral student, worked in a daycare and loved kids. Went to the gym daily and kept her body perfect by supplementing with a strict diet. Physically and on paper, she was so many things I wanted. But she was incredibly selfish, self-centered, and overall a mean person.
We were only seeing each other for two months, but we were exclusively seeing each other. We talked almost every day. I put thought into our dates around her interests and preferences. She lived an hour away.
I put in the work, but she didn’t. I lost my job at the end of January. I went two days without talking to her because she was going through something she wouldn’t tell me about. Let her know I was okay, but really wanted to see her.
Said I had to come to her days later. Fine, no problem. I just want to see you. The day of her date, she blew me off.
I was frustrated. Next day I called her thinking it might be time to dump her. She did other sketchy crap prior. And I find out she’s in my hometown that day.
One of her best friends was feeling sick, had a tummy ache, and she decided to come see her. What the hell? I ended up dumping her via text because screw her. She deserved no better.
She called me that night saying I was over dramatic and crazy. Okay, so there’s nothing left to talk about. She tried texting and getting back together with me two months later. I gave her an opportunity to come meet me for coffee in my area if she was really sorry, and she didn’t take it.
Tried to call me on my birthday. Nope. She may have thought of me as her crazy ex, but my ex was an immature witch. Dated this girl for about a month last summer.
She got mad that I didn’t like what she bought me for my birthday. Some fancy t-shirt and a nice bottle of cologne, both things I simply don’t wear. A week or so after that, we were talking through the work week while I was driving, and she was complaining how I’m never open enough and never tell her about my feelings. That weekend we had a party at the house, and her and I spent three to four hours sitting on my tailgate just talking about my past, growing up, time spent in the army, a general bit of everything.
The next night she breaks up with me, and the next morning, before I’m even awake, she’s begging me to take her back, how much she cared about me, all this BS, and I told her tough crap. The whole next week she’s texting me how she’s late, the baby is mine, pulling the pregnant card to try to get me back. I simply told her that she wasn’t fooling around, she’d better get a good lawyer and have them contact me, because she was in for a custody fight. She shut up pretty quickly after that.
Come Halloween, my friends invited her out to party with us. They didn’t know about the whole pregnancy BS, and she screwed a buddy of mine on my couch after trying to get back in my bed. She was bragging about it, and I told her it was pretty fishy and that I didn’t give a crap as long as they didn’t leave a condom in my couch.