So, day before yesterday, I confronted the Boyfriend about his food addiction. We talked about how dangerous it is, how much it hurts me. He made a commitment to seek help. He took the first steps.
Yesterday, he came home after work. Started making quesadillas. One, two, three. I knew where this was headed, and I asked him to stop.

Last night was the first night he's ever been verbally abusive. It was my fault that he had to eat to fill the void, I was being such a bitch to him, demeaning him, taking all his control away from him. He didn't believe me when I said "I love you". He didn't want my help or my encouragement or my company. I was attacking, accusing, and ruining him.
None of which is true - all of which he said.

Mom has been in recovery for about a year now. She has been in therapy, she has lost eighty pounds, and we are becoming friends. I talked to her about it from the bedroom while he slept on the couch. I talked to her, crying and wondering what I did to cause this.

She talked me through it. It's not my fault, all I can do is be supportive of his recovery. I love him, and he loves me.

But I also have set up a safehouse that I can go to if I get scared.

So now, I am just tired. I want to sleep through this whole process. I want to wake up and have him be better.

I am so damned scared that I'll fail him. But you know what? It's not my fault. I haven't done anything wrong. And I'm not sorry for anything, because there is nothing to be sorry for. I am doing the right thing. I am not damaging him. Everything is going to be okay.
xo

RETREAT - ATTACK