That’s the tagline behind my new podcast obsession – My Favorite Murder. I’ve been binge-listening since I discovered it. Here’s a little secret I’m harboring: I’ve always had a life-long fear of being murdered. For reals. And I always thought I was a weirdo. As it turns out, I’m not alone! I’m a murderino, and there’s a lot of us out there. Look no more, true crime lovers – we’ve found our home. Even the Facebook page gives me all the feels. I’ve found my people at last.
The hosts talk a lot about the 80’s. That decade holds a special place in my heart. It was such a shitty/amazing time for children to grow up in America. A time where we were given candy cigarettes so we could pretend we were child smokers. A time of ambiguous seat belt laws which meant we were bouncing around in the back seats unencumbered by safety. And of course, Rescue 911, which taught all of us how to behave in an emergency. Also, there were a ridiculous amount of kidnappings. I wasn’t a paranoid kid, but the fear of being snatched was definitely on my list of concerns, along with what would happen next in Sweet Valley High. With all that going against us, it really is quite the accomplishment that any of us have made it this far. I credit much of the fact that I wasn’t kidnapped to my unsupervised viewing of Unsolved Mysteries. 80’s babies, amirite? The theme music alone is enough to scare the shit out of you.
What Unsolved Mysteries taught me through dramatic re-enactments:
Never go to a second location with a stranger (guaranteed murder)
Never get in the car
An adult never needs a child’s help
Ghost vengeance is real
Thanks, Robert Stack. I have stayed sexy and not gotten murdered.
So, this summer hurt like a mother fucker. I went through a break up. Got sicker. Stopped drinking wine.
The breakup: I know everyone wants details, but I need to respect the privacy of a relationship.
Jk. Very late in the game I realized I had made the unfortunate decision to partner up with a pathological liar with rage issues. Red flag. There was lots of shouting in my face, manipulation, aggression and threatening behavior. All behind closed doors. He was the essence of laid back and gentle in public. The perfect actor.
The pièce de résistance was when he locked me out on the patio to “teach me a lesson”. Those words actually came out of his mouth. He let me back in and I told him it wasn’t his job to teach me lessons. His response: “Well, you weren’t validating me and I had to make you understand how I felt.” Okay. Only serial killers speak like that, so I was pretty sure my next “lesson” would be a sound proof basement. Since I don’t want to be murdered, I packed my shit and left. No crazy back and forth’s (I’m a clean-cutter) (ha! Murder pun), no chance of reconciling, no questioning my decision. In one fail swoop he was completely removed from our lives. All of us were left to pick up the pieces of a shattered relationship (he was fully integrated with my family) and deal with the confusion that comes when you are completely derailed by someone you trusted. My entire family felt the pain of this breakup. Everything was a lie. How does one cope with that and move on?
I am not blameless. I own that I did things that weren’t especially helpful. But this was an abusive relationship, and I’m divulging the details because a) it’s my blog and I do what I want and b) if you are in a relationship where your partner is exhibiting similar behaviors it’s time to escape. This is ABUSE. This isn’t love. No one should ever lock you out, teach you lessons, shout in your face, manipulate you, or lie constantly. If you feel unsafe because your partner has aggressive reactions, it’s time to leave yesterday. If you feel like you always have to walk on egg shells because you don’t know what will set off the time bomb – leave. These people are experts at making you feel like you exaggerate situations, or that you turn everything into “such a big deal” (I heard this so much I started to believe I was crazy). The truth is, no one should be told their feelings are insignificant. If you are in a similar situation, please reach out to me. Please. I want to help.
An alarming pattern with abusive relationships is that they begin rather peacefully. Rodrigo was supportive and sweet and seemingly the perfect boyfriend, as you could tell from previous posts. Maybe that perfection in itself is a red flag. Before you know it, you are in the throes of some pretty terrible stuff and telling yourself it isn’t that bad and maybe everything really is your fault. Like I said, master manipulators.
I have not seen him since June, and I hope I never do. I fear running into him, because I know what he is capable of, and I know he is unpredictable. I would feel very unsafe.
I am so thankful I got out, and I’ll be damned if anyone is ever going to yell in my face again.
Skkkrrreeeeeee subject change!
I saw a thyroid specialist, Dr. Arem. I was warned the appointment would be upwards of $700. No problem. I’m an expensive case.
During my physical exam he told me my thyroid was very inflamed and that my immune system was attacking it. Next I had an ultrasound that showed 2 large nodules on the gland. He told me I had to get those biopsied. Not being the fool, I said if it was all the same to him, I’d rather not do that thank you very much. To which he said he wouldn’t treat me unless I had this done. Well played. Then I went into the blood room with the other patients, we had some nice chats, someone recommended Nada Moo ice cream (changed my life!) and then I went to check out.
“Your total is $2,525.”
I pause briefly with my credit card midair, thinking I misunderstood.
Then we both laughed. Of course you didn’t misunderstand, you stupid idiot!
Then my parking was SEVEN DOLLARS. Ugh. They get you from every angle. If this keeps going I will definitely have to marry for money.
Positive. I’m terrified this is all temporary and I will scare it away. Superstitious, but I’ve been let down a lot. I don’t want to get my hopes up and then suddenly go back to being a comatose lump in my bed, and everyone’s all “Where’s Erin? She said she was better.” “Ah man, she’s back in bed. Sick again.” “What? I thought she found the right doctor?” “She’s an idiot.” Or something like that.
Buuuuuuuut things are slowly changing. My nausea has all but disappeared. It’s pretty cool to not feel like vomiting every second of the day. I’ve also started walking on the treadmill because I WANT TO. I haven’t had the desire for physical exercise since September 2013, so this is huge. Also I’m very out of shape.
Oh! The wine! Ugh, this breaks my heart the most. After a couple of weeks on thyroid hormone, I noticed that the wine I was drinking tasted like vinegar. Blerg. No problem, I’m sure it’s a bad bottle. About 12 bottles later it’s confirmed – my taste buds are jacked. But only with wine. WTF??? Wine??? C’mon.
Oddly enough, champagne still tastes pretty darn good. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
One of the downfalls of thyroid disease is memory loss. In addition to that, I seem to have lost about 65% of my vocabulary. So, if you feel like you’re reading at a 2nd grade level, it’s not you, it’s me.
(Before I made an appointment with Dr. Arem, I read his book – The Thyroid Solution. HIGHLY recommend you get your hands on this if you think you are hypo/hyper thyroid.)