Until roughly a year ago, I had fooled myself into believing that I was in a relationship with a guy I had met at a bar when I was 19. This so-called relationship consisted of a lot of sex in private and him treating me very badly in public to the point where we rarely spoke unless it was to initiate sex. Within a month of meeting him, he had totaled my car in a drunk-driving accident where I was injured and he left the scene. We didn’t speak for nearly three months after that — and then I saw him at the bar again. And in my head, I felt that we had this strange magnetism…and then things began again. As the story unfolded, I learned second-hand that he had a severe cocaine problem, drank to the point of passing out every day, and slept with any man or woman who crossed his path. Great choice, huh?

This continued for several YEARS. At one point, I discovered I was pregnant and had an abortion without telling him, fearing it would end our “relationship.” Then not even a year later, the same thing happened. (FYI, the first time I was not on birth control — but the second time I was, and am not sure how it happened.) I was devastated.

I didn’t think I could have another abortion but I didn’t really think that I was capable of raising a child at 22 with a man who I knew did not really love me and also had no discernible source of income. So, I told him I was pregnant, in the hope of support. He freaked out. I had hoped that he would have handled it better than he did — but he told me to go the doctor, told me he wanted proof, that he thought I was lying, like this was something that I had wanted. So I went to the doctor — I made an appointment for an ultrasound and invited him to come with me. He did not answer the phone on the morning of the appointment, so I took my best friend with me. As my friend was driving me home, I called him and told him I wanted to talk. He kept delaying it, saying he didn’t have time, and I basically flipped out and told him to call me when he grew up and wanted to discuss this.

After a lot of anguish, I decided that the best choice would be another abortion. I did not let him know of my decision — I thought he had made it obvious that he did not want to be a part of anything. Like an ass, I went back to the bar. I just couldn’t stay away from him. Worse than that, I slept with him several times after the second abortion. I think I was just hoping against hope that he might actually love me. But of course, he did not. It took me a long time to get there, but I am. I have also barred myself from ever going to that bar ever again or ever talking to anyone with whom he has close ties.

So, after a lot of backstory, here is the problem. I am convinced that I am incapable of a real relationship. I am not unattractive but I am not conventionally attractive and tend to be insecure about my looks. Part of his charm was that I was always drunk with him, and I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve had sex sober. I want to get past this, and I don’t know how. I believe that guys are attracted to me when they are drunk but then want nothing to do with me when we are sober. This makes me wary of the drunken one-night stand. I am over that phase in my life — and tend to refer to my ex as a continuous one-night stand.

I can’t put down my barriers and trust someone. I’m deathly afraid of getting hurt, of being emotionally rather than physically intimate with someone else. Worse yet, I am dreading a conversation about children and disclosing my past abortions. I don’t regret them — I know it was the best decision that I ever could have made but it still hurts. I wonder if this type of problem comes from having emotionally distanced myself from my parents at a young age. I have little memory of my childhood and am trying to repair the distance between my parents and myself, while I am physically distant from them. It is difficult and I’m not sure where to begin.

And while I am quite aware that I need therapy badly, I must say that I have tried it several times. I do not trust the therapists and I do not disclose full information, which makes it less helpful. I am ready to try therapy again, though I’m not sure that I’m ready to try the antidepressants again (as I have been handed them like candy in the past). I do not know how to go about picking a therapist. Do I just say, “Hey, I don’t trust you — can we try this out?”

I don’t know what kind of response you can give me on this but I really did need to air a lot of this out. My friends and I have barred the subject of my ex as a topic and I cannot get it off my chest. How can I go about getting over something that never really was and focus on fixing myself? I would really like to try dating and meeting guys (sober) as if it were not a huge crisis. Any thoughts you have would be appreciated, and I certainly expect a good slap for staying with the guy as long as I did.

Sobered up the hard way

You don’t need antidepressants, although they might help; you certainly don’t need to be dating or meeting guys right now. You need therapy. It is hard to trust a therapist at first, because you don’t know her and you’re having to tell her some really private and painful things — but that’s the point of therapy, and if you have to say right up front that you don’t trust her or the process yet, well, she’s a professional. She’s trained to deal with resistance. It’s all part of it.

And you need it. You’re so uncomfortable in your own skin that you can’t deal with your sexual self without alcohol; you’d rather stick with the familiar terrain of a guy who treats you like crap than leave that aggro behind and try something different. It’s like you’re addicted to trying to win over this asshole. It all comes from low self-esteem, and it isn’t anything abnormal; it doesn’t mean you’re crazy or a bad person, or weak. But you have to get to the bottom of it, of why you let this guy treat you like shit for so long, of why it took you so long to get fed up.

It’s not going to be easy, but it’s worthwhile. Make yourself and your own happiness important enough to endure some emotional discomfort for the long-term good.

Dear Sars,

I’ve found myself in a sticky etiquette/friendship/money situation and I’m trying to figure out how best to handle it. After asking a couple of people for their opinion, I’m pretty convinced that it’s hard for anyone not to sympathize with the person telling the story (because it kind of sucks for both people involved), so I’m not sure I’m getting an objective answer from my friends. Can you help me out? I’ll try to phrase it as neutrally as possible.

So: Jessica and Erica are very good friends in their mid-twenties. One day, Jessica accidentally backs into Erica’s car, causing $1200 worth of damage to Erica’s new car and fortunately none to her own new car. Jessica’s insurance would cover the bill, but it would cost her $1500 in increased premiums over the next six years, so she and Erica agree to settle it in cash. Obviously if there was no friendship involved, Jessica would have to pay the $1200, no question. (There was nothing irregular about the way Erica was parked, Jessica was just having a bad day and was distracted.)

Question 1: Should Erica offer, because they are such good friends, to split the repair bill with Jessica? (or perhaps at least contribute towards it)

Question 2: Does the answer change if Erica makes a good bit more money than Jessica? Neither is living hand-to-mouth, but Erica probably takes home $2800 a month to Jessica’s $1800, so an extra $1200 is clearly a much bigger deal to Jessica than to Erica. (They live in one of those overpriced cities where neither $2800 nor $1800 goes as far as you’d hope.) Erica does have a car loan (Jessica’s car was a gift from her parents) and some travel and health care expenses that Jessica doesn’t have, but nonetheless she definitely clears more than Jessica each month.

It is probably clear from the story that Erica didn’t offer, and Jessica is a little bit hurt. We’re close enough friends that we’ll work through it fine in the end, but we’re each really wondering if we’re crazy for thinking about it the way we do.

Help?

Thanks,
Mom Always Said Friendship and Money Don’t Mix, I Guess She’s Right

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Dear Yep,

1. No. 2. No.

Jessica screwed up. She didn’t mean to, and it’s bad luck that it cost that much, but — tough. She hit a parked car. (Hit the hell out of it, too — $1200? Damn.) Driving “distracted” costs money, and those costs don’t operate on a sliding scale according to income. Erica already nicely agreed to handle it off the books so that Jessica wouldn’t get hit with a higher premium. I think that’s plenty.

If the situations were reversed, and Jessica in turn would not have offered to pay, because she makes less money, then she’s got absolutely no argument. She caused the damage; she pays for it.

[7/12/05]

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Tags:   boys (and girls)   etiquette   friendships