I thought about using a throwaway for this but fuck it, I control my life now.

This is actually how my son was born.

I had been with this lady, lets call her Stacy, she was crazy, but I wasn't exactly stable either, I was really into painkillers at the time, and I was not doing very fantastic at life. I had a stable job, a shared rent house, a car, but no equity, no savings, (drugs are expensive) and a general feeling of wanting to die.

This general feeling of wanting to die was mostly due to the excessive painkiller use, and I was on Probation at the time, but that is a separate story of stupidity. Anyhow I wasn't exactly the most emotionally available person, I worked all the time, because rent+drugs=slavery. When I was home I was reading, or sleeping, or being a generally miserable cunt.

Now Stacy, Stacy, has no job, she just goes to school, she stays with me, rent free, and for a while, we were happy. Until my general priggishness pushed her away. Anyhow, she cheated on me. I caught an STI because of it. I broke up with her, I asked her to leave.

I get treated. I grieve. I become less like a human and more like a miserable, hollowed out, skeleton who has trouble processing mentions, emotions, priorities, the basics of human interaction. I get put on mail in probation, the easiest there is. I don't mail in. I just want to sleep. Maybe never wake up.

So I tried to end it the only way I knew how, I took a lot of painkillers, and drank whiskey till I couldn't see straight.

I wake up in the morning. I'm disappointed. I'm alive.

Stacy is naked beside. WTF? what happened? Did I call her? My phone is shattered. I wake her up. I ask her to leave. I haven't eaten in a couple of days, I'm starving, and so hungover I can't think. She starts to laugh at me. I start to get angry but my head spins, I fall back onto the bed. I realize she is undressing me. I moan out a please help me. I think I'm dying. I wake up. I'm naked. She's gone.

A few days later, she calls my job and asks to sit down with me. She says, "I'm late."

I cry. This is not what I needed. She asks for money. I give her some. Go back into work and my PO is there wondering why I haven't mailed in.

I go to jail. Then rehab. While I was in rehab my consular, helped me realize that the way she had always treated me, was not like a partner but as a servant.

I have no idea where to end this.

Anyone who has dealt with something like this knows,it's how you cope. I'm getting better, I still avoid relationships with women because I'm not ready. I want to get a little bit better before I try that again.