11. I Guess You Can Keep the Coffee Table

I don’t remember much about the logistics or the details of my transition from Haverhill to graduate school. It’s possible I lived with my mom for a month, or stayed with her while I was in Vermont looking at places. It could also be that I lived with my dad again for a month. I remember using a car he helped me buy to look at places. 

When my grandmother died my dad got some inheritance money, and put down $10k on a car for me. This made me feel a lot of things. I felt guilty, I was always raised to not ask for or expect these things. I also felt upset about taking the money because of his torn relationship with my brother. From what I could tell their relationship was better. They texted about sports and my dad always gave him a birthday card, and he even was going to pay for his college. To me this was acceptable enough to start trusting my dad again, and I accepted his help because I needed it. It felt like a wave of relief and also a pit of shame that I was stuck in, like I failed in holding myself to my own morals.

Before the in-between time I put an ad on craigslist stating I was starting graduate school and looking for a place to live in Johnson or Morrisville, Vermont. I also stated that I wanted to get a dog. The last year living in Boston was eye-opening for me. I realized I could be surrounded by people and friends, and still feel really lonely. I thought back on how much my childhood dog helped me feel loved, so I wanted to go into my new living situation with the understanding that I was going to get a dog. I wanted whoever reached out to me to know that was my intention, and to pass if they did not like that idea.

A girl named Elise answered my ad. She told me about herself and I could tell she was super excited. We were the same age, both female, and both starting the same degree program. I was cautiously excited, my experience taught me to keep my guard up before trusting a new roommate. I brought up wanting to get a dog and she made it clear she thought it would be too much to take on with school, but agreed to living with one once I got it. I agreed with her that it would be a big responsibility, but explained how much dogs help me with my mental health. I thought I was meeting her half way when I said I could wait until the spring to get one. She thought that was a good idea. 

Elise was from Connecticut, and moved up here to be with her boyfriend, Tim, she recently met at a bar and talked online to for some months. He was already enrolled in our graduate school program, and Elise decided to apply to the same one and move up to Vermont to be with him. I thought this was a bit of a strange way to start a relationship, but it wasn’t any of my business. I hardly had any experience with relationships, so I tucked away my judgments.

Elise was obviously wealthy. She talked about her suburban life living with her stay at home mom for the past two years. Her car also cost more than I could hope to make in one year for a long time. Her parents came up with her to meet me and look at places to live, and were very controlling. “We like this” “You don’t want that, Elise”. It drove me crazy. She seemed aware of it but also liked to have guidance and connection in that way.

They were nice, but I could tell they were scoping me out. I understood that they were nervous; their child is moving away from them to live with someone they don’t know. It was a stark difference from my parents, who had no idea who I was living with since I left for college and didn’t seem to care to know. It did bring a lot of awareness for me of my parents' expectation that I shouldn’t need any help at all, ever, it’s part of being an adult.

Elise tried to convince me to live in Stowe. Stowe is a place where rent is double what it is in the surrounding towns. We looked at a couple places there. One had obvious mold in it, and the other was on the mountain road and rent was much higher than I could afford on my planned waitress salary. Neither of the places allowed dogs. The mountain road gets all the traffic from skiing, and living in a surrounding town where you can live for half the cost was much more appealing. I told her this, and her response was “loans make it so you can afford it, there is no “afford””.

She also said that she is really nervous about moving away from home and Stowe is 15-20 minutes closer to the interstate, so that made her feel better. I thought that was stupid. I wondered if that’s what she actually believed, or if it really was because Stowe was a wealthier community and she felt uncomfortable living in a lower income area, or it could’ve just been because she had heard of Stowe and wasn’t familiar with the other places. I told my dad what she said about living closer to the interstate and he said “That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard!” This was validating. I asked him to come with me next time we were looking at a place I found in Morrisville because she had her parents with her, and he agreed.

The apartment in Morrisville was perfect. Rent for a two bedroom at the time was $950, meaning only $450 for each of us. It was a 15 minute drive to campus, and the rooms were big and sunny. They also allowed dogs. The two landlords were a mother and son. The mother was probably in her 70’s and lived in the apartment upstairs from our unit. 

Her dad brought up “snow removal” with the landlords. I was surprised her parents even asked. It was a suburban house with a tiny driveway, and her parents were wondering who came to plow it or shovel it. I knew that the landlords thought we would shovel our own cars out of the snow. My dad is known for making snide comments, stating the obvious, or being so blunt it can be mean. I remember one time we were in the mall when I was a teenager and passed by some very overweight people eating subway sandwiches. “Oh god” I thought “he’s going to say something” “Did you see those people MOWING DOWN on those sandwiches?!?!” he said with huge eyes incredulously. “Yeeaaaah” I said, nodding.

It was the same feeling here. “Oh god” I thought, “what’s he going to say?” “Kathryn's legs work.” He said with a higher than thou tone of voice. I felt a huge wave of relief. That could have gone much worse. I then said I have no problem shoveling the driveway. The old landlady also said she can shovel it. I reassured her she didn’t need to, I don’t mind. I wondered if that made Michele's family feel upset, like I was undermining them or trying to suck up. I honestly didn't really care because just couldn't imagine having the old landlady shovel the driveway instead of myself.

This interaction was fascinating to me. Her parents, mostly her father, treated her like a princess. They didn’t even think she should or could shovel her own driveway. I couldn’t get over it. It was so different from my reality. Growing up I did notice some of my friends' dads saying “hello beautiful”, or not wanting them to cut their hair. This can feel both nice and disgusting. But this was the first glaring time I’ve noticed a father not wanting his daughter to do physical labor. I’m sure it happens all the time, but I was captivated. I started wondering what that was like. Did she love it? Did she hate it? Did she even think about it at all? Did she have to do anything on her own? Did he not think she was capable? Was he just making sure she would be taken care of?

Elise’s dad didn’t even look at us and said “We’ll take it!” and shook the landlady’s hand. It was by far the best apartment we’d seen. Her dad turned to me and said “Can you pay for more of the security deposit, since you’re getting a dog?” I had just come from working for Americorps, where I made $1000 a month. Food stamps and my reduced rent made this life possible for me. Luckily I was able to save some money. I had just enough for the first month's rent and a $1000 security deposit, totaling $1475.00. She paid, or her father paid $500 for her side of the deposit.

I wish I could have said I was surprised that people who are so well off could be so ignorant and not caring about situations of people with littler means than them, but I wasn’t. They muscled to get what they want, and if I can’t provide it for them then I am the one with terrible work ethic or was irresponsible with my finances. I had overheard Elise’s boyfriend, who was also from Connecticut but went to college at Lyndon State in the North East Kingdom, tell her father “people here in Vermont have worse work ethic than in Connecticut''. This enraged me, but I didn’t feel I had a right to my anger or acknowledge the red flag. I felt so relieved I could pay for it so I didn't become a part of the "terrible work ethic" Vermonters seem to have to them. 

When I gave the check to the landlady she noticed my last name and said “Oh, are you related to Joe and Bethany?” I had no idea. My dad, who had remained quiet piped up that yes, Joe was his cousin. Apparently they lived right down the street from this apartment. Shit. I wanted to put distance between me and my family. I enrolled in graduate school an hour away instead of in Burlington mostly for this reason. The Landlady was excited and said they were great people. My dad told me he felt relief that I had some people close by. I nodded politely and acted excited.

The idea of family for me didn’t mean protection. Instead it gave me a wave of anxiety. They are people I have to lie to about my, that he is doing well and we speak regularly. They had no idea of his mental illness or what it was like to live with him. He has a lot of great qualities, and they only see those.  

When we went through our estrangement period I had teachers who went to high school with my dad or his siblings ask me how he was. They had no idea he called his children brats and refused to talk to them, or that I hadn’t spoken to him in over a year. So I just would say good, look sad, and they didn’t ask more. Running into extended family members in the community was also difficult. One time I saw my aunt and cousins at the movies, and I don’t remember the exact dialogue but it ended with her telling me I was being rude. Maybe I was. I was definitely feeling guarded.

I thought that when I saw my aunts and uncles at the movies or on Church st, they would think “huh, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen them, they must’ve chosen their mother after the divorce”. They would slide in that I should give him a call. I did tell one of my cousins about everything that was going on during my sophomore year of college. He was supportive and understanding as he could be, and I’ve always been thankful for that. He kinda had this “oh it all makes sense now” sort of reaction. 

Anyway, I wasn’t thrilled to be living near my dads cousin, it was just more masking and protecting someone I didn’t feel needed to be on a pedestal. But if I told them the truth then I was “ungrateful” and “not realizing how lucky I was to even have a dad”, or my favorite, “not being compassionate for all the trauma he has been through”. I was aware other people had it harder than I did, and was reminded of that any time I expressed anger towards my dad. 

I think you can be compassionate to someone who has been through a lot, while also not putting up with being treated like shit. This was always really hard for me when it came to my dad, Clara, and friends in general. I am much better at this now, at 33, but especially when I was dependent on these people emotionally and financially it was excruciating. Thinking about being around my dads cousins and putting on a show about how much I loved my family felt daunting. 

As I write all of this, I feel a wave of guilt about my negative feelings towards my dad as I write this next part. He helped me move from Haverhill to this new apartment. He got a work truck, loaded everything, and drove back to Vermont to help me unload. As we were setting up my bed he made a joke about being OK with the fact that my mom might help me on a different day. I sarcastically said “or maybe you could help me at THE SAME TIME”. He laughed and said “let’s not get ahead of ourselves”.

I was grateful for this. He was able to acknowledge that there was conflict. It wasn’t an apology, but it was acknowledgement that there was tension. It felt much different than the gaslighting my mom put me through not too long ago. I was grateful we were able to joke about certain things that were hard. I do think he was trying his best, and loved me. He helped me when he could, and that made a difference to me. I was taking what I could get, and was selfishly motivated.

While moving everything in, we took a cigarette break. I know that smoking cigarettes with your dad isn’t something most people do. He did tell me he wished I didn’t smoke, and I reassured him I didn’t do it often. But it was a way to bond. I could tell he enjoyed the ritual, and so did I.

Elise came up to me after he left and I was setting things up in my room. “Were you just smoking a cigarette?” Oh boy, I thought, here it comes. The judgment and the start of her deteriorating opinion of me. “I love smoking cigarettes, want to smoke when my parents leave?” Relief swept over me. “Absolutely” I agreed.

The first month of living together was somewhat of a whirlwind. She was so open about herself and her insecurities in a way I had never come across before. We had so much in common when it came to experience, or lack of, in relationships. She also hated using tampons. I felt my whole life like I was the only person in the room who had never loved someone else in the way most others do by the time they were 23. Also, that I was one out of a million who couldn’t use tampons. 

She was able to joke about these things with others without degrading herself. It was like she believed that this is what made her special, and she had a superpower and was worthy of love. One time with friends she waved around a pad and said “motherfuckersss” before going to the bathroom, knowing everyone else thought pads were gross. Everyone laughed. Everyone loved her. Wherever we went she had a magnetic field that people felt gravitated towards. I so wished to be like her. She was also very kind, and listened to me when I opened up as well. She didn’t shy away like most people did when I was honest about what it’s like to be inside my head with my depression and anxiety. In fact, she seemed to like me more for it. I felt like she understood me.

I got my waitress job at a restaurant down the street. I am incredibly spacey, and didn’t make a good waitress. Some of the feedback customers would give to my manager was “She’s sweet, but…”. I often forgot to put in orders. The hardest part was trying to time the main dish to be out when the appetizer is done. I once took out the main meal and delivered it to the table before they were done with their appetizers, and my manager talked to me about it. “That’s a big no no”, she said. However, if you didn’t take out the orders the second the line cooks were done with them the cooks flipped out. I was really bad at managing all of that.

Elise and Tim would often come to the restaurant right before they closed. I would tell them not to do this, that it was really frustrating to all the staff. “They like it, they want our money”, they would both say. Tim would also give my manager his feedback about the meal. He really thought she wanted to know his opinion. I felt so embarrassed about their behavior at work. The cooks told me “don’t your friends know not to come right before closing time?!” I told them I told them not to do this, but it didn’t matter.

This was telling of one of the class differences that existed between us. I never brought it up with them, because they wouldn’t agree. Elise and Tim never stated they knew they grew up with more privilege than I did. It was my impression that Elise believed because her dad grew up in poverty and struggled to make ends meet in college, that she knew what it was like to struggle herself. The thing that was beyond frustrating for me was the discounting of my experience. I told them how their behavior at my work was making me feel, and they totally disregarded that. At the time I told myself I must have been too sensitive about it. It was two against one, I must be the one who is being irrational.

Because I was terrible at waitressing and I didn’t have health insurance, I wanted to change my job. I didn’t believe I was qualified for anything else with a history major and one year of experience working for Americoprs. I look back and think how invaluable my experience and hard work was, but at the time I felt like I didn’t know anything. The agency Elise worked for was always hiring for Behavior Interventionists. I applied and got the job right away with Elise’s encouragement. For a couple of months I was working two jobs and going to night classes, because the restaurant needed people. I eventually left the restaurant altogether, but I felt terrible about saying no when my manager asked for help. It was also nice to have the extra cash. But, eventually I screwed up enough she stopped asking.

I’m not sure I would have ever had the confidence to apply for that job without Elise. She was really helpful with explaining what the job was and helping me believe I was capable and qualified. She did have more experience working in the mental health field than I did. She worked at a hospital treating patients with suicidal ideation and suicide attempts. I soaked up everything she told me like a sponge. I wanted this experience so much.

At this point Elise and I were living together, working together, and going to school together. We carpooled to class and sat next to each other. We would sit on our stoop at the end of the day and talk about what was hard and make jokes over a shared cigarette. I felt like I could tell her anything about my day and she wouldn’t judge me. I think she was grateful for me, too. She moved to a new place and didn’t know anybody besides Tim. She told me all about wanting to take it slow with him and didn’t want to live with him just yet. She never outright said she was grateful she found me to live with me for the time being, but that’s the sense I got. 

I told her I thought she was brave for making this big move. Her situation was similar to mine in that she had never left her home state. It was quite a leap to move somewhere new to be with someone she loved, however strange I thought the situation was. 

She showed me love by laughing at my clumsiness, taking selfies with me, sharing her own vulnerabilities when it came to her new relationship, and introducing me to her sisters. I felt like I was part of her family, and that she accepted me for me. One time I went to sit down on our patio and missed the chair entirely, landing on the floor. She could not stop laughing. This is the type of thing I’m famous for. When I was five I walked into a garbage can at Disney world; my family has never let me live that down. I’ve always hated myself for doing these types of things, but she told me this broke the ice for her and felt like we were friends afterwards. I felt like I was on top of the world. It was like I had a sister, a soulmate who loved my quirks.

There was a boy in one of our classes that I gravitated towards quickly, named Liam. He asked to hang out, so him and I went to the movies with Tim and Elise and went out drinking after. He had also asked me to go hiking with him at his favorite hiking spot. He talked a big game about how quickly he hikes, and that they were leaving at 7am. I felt incredibly nervous about not being able to keep up with him, so I declined. This left us just drinking alcohol as a way to get to know each other. 

Throughout college and up until this point I was frustrated that boys never asked you out on dates. It was always “let’s hang out”, meaning smoke weed or drunkenly hook up. Sometimes that turned into a relationship for some people it seemed. But when it came to making plans with Liam about a common interest like hiking or skiing my anxiety took over about how bad at those things I was, and that I wouldn’t be fun enough. My nervousness about how it would go took over, resulting in me only being able to hang out with him when I was drinking.

I had sex with him the first night we hung out. I told Elise not to let me have sex with him before we left. She told me later that she just thought “we’re just going to the movies?” We went to the bar after and drank. I look back and feel so bad about this. She was really open with me about wanting to take things slow with Tim, and I worry that me having sex with Liam in the next room made her feel uncomfortable. This is one of those look back and feel the pit of shame in your stomach moments for me. I was mature enough to know better, and yet I acted immaturely.

I felt an intense attraction to Liam that I had never felt before. I saw myself settling down with him and having kids. Most of the women in my family settled down in their early twenties, so this felt like this was fate. All the times I felt not good enough to love would be behind me, I’ve found the one. He was a liberal and was a Franklin county boy. This was meant to be. Unfortunately he did not feel the same. He wanted to have sex, but beyond that our relationship was non-existent. Over the course of the next year my heart was broken in a way it never had been before. I’d experienced unrequited love at its finest.

Lauren started graduate school at the same time as us, and became fast friends with Elise. They worked in the same classroom, and had similar interests in eastern healing practices. Lauren was always very kind to me, and looking back I can tell she liked me too. However, at the time I thought she just humored me because I was Elise’s roommate; that’s how Elise framed it too. Elise made sure to tell me that Lauren thought our apartment was too small for a dog, and that I couldn’t take care of it on my own. At the time I felt incredibly angry that Lauren would say something like that to Elise, and then turn around and tell me she thought me having a dog would be great for my mental health. I think she was just listening to Elise when she was speaking, and Elise mistook that for “agreeing”. This was another dynamic of social gymnastics I struggled with. Lauren tried to engage with me on her thoughts that Elise grew up very sheltered. My anxiety shut me down and I disengaged from the conversation. I was afraid if I talked badly about Elise in any way she would somehow find out, and I imagined her reaction and abandonment of our friendship. 

Elise and Lauren were excited for this romance to take off. This way, I could come to couples nights and not be a third wheel. One night Lauren had us over before she got married. "Us", meaning her and her then boyfriend, Elise, Tim and I. Lauren mentioned to me that "you could bring Liam here" with wide hopeful eyes. I said that he was hunting, which was true. I couldn't admit to her in a big group of us that he actually would have zero interest in being here, or spending any of his free time with me if we weren't going to have sex. The night was one of the most awkward nights of my life. When I would hang out with Elise and Tim I felt comfortable being a third wheel, it felt natural almost. In this group they would sporadically dance as couples and feed each other snacks. I was in hell.

I was so excited to get a dog I didn’t wait until spring. In the fall when I stopped working two jobs I decided to start looking. I’m not sure why but I was drawn to pit bulls. I think it was something about them being unwanted, misunderstood, and judged that made me want them more. I found one from a shelter that was 2 years old, great around other dogs and people and kids. I thought I was being considerate when I asked Elise to meet him before I brought him home to make sure she approved. She did meet him and it went well. I remember her being quiet and shy around him during this visit. Looking back I worry that she was scared of dogs, and didn’t feel like she could speak up. In the moment I thought I had shown her I was open to her feedback and cared about her thoughts. I now understand this situation was similar to when I roomed with Megan. She felt uncomfortable saying she was uncomfortable. I feel bad I wasn't able to navigate that communication breakdown with more ease. 

I brought him home and everything was great. His name was Comet. I took him trick or treating, and he was a hit with all the kids. I thought I found a great dog to be a therapy dog. He would jump into Elise’s bed and cuddle. Tim even told me I “found the best one [dog]”. Elise even posted pictures of him cuddling with her and in the famous “chicken leg” pose pit bulls do while lying down. I thought she really liked him.

The toughest part of having Comet was his separation anxiety, which I didn’t know he had when adopting him. Whenever he was left alone he would poop and throw up all over the house. When I put him in the crate he chewed through it and ripped it apart. I brought him to doggy daycare when I was at work, and other than that I couldn’t leave him alone. I was nervous about him destroying the house and felt for him and his anxiety. After about a week of this I made the decision that broke my heart; I decided to send him back to where I got him. I later found out that a man who works from home adopted him. I brought this situation up with my professors and they reassured me that this same scenario will come up with my clients. Sometimes their needs are “beyond our scope”, and we simply don’t have the skillset to meet their needs and a referral would be the ethical choice. 

I was heartbroken. The thought of trying again with a different dog was impossible to me. In my mind Comet was my dog and I had failed him and had given him back to the adoption agency. I logically understood what my professors told me but it was still hard to not internalize that I failed the dog.

Some time went by and before I considered trying again Elise and I continued our routine of working in the same school, driving to class, and supporting each other emotionally. I noticed how much I clung onto her. I was very dependent on her socially. Because people gravitated towards her, I felt like people liked me just because I was around her. I felt comfortable and accepted by her, and everyone else made me extremely anxious. People would invite her out for drinks at work and after class, and I would tag along. They all thought I was nice enough. I remember thinking I was the same way with Jenn and Courtney in high school. It almost felt like a state of acceptance, like this was just the way I am; I am someone who has one intense friend and outside of that I am too anxious to have acquaintances, and other people don’t often find me very interesting. 

It’s not that I didn’t try to make friends with others, I just was anxious and it always failed. I never understood the social norms: how do you know when it’s okay to gossip? How do you know when to ask someone to hang out? How come I can say some things and it’s more interesting or fun when Elise says the same thing? I also didn’t really even have hobbies to bond with others over. My life was going to grad school and working. Elise soaked up the lonely void I’d had for so long.

Elise and Tim’s relationship started getting more serious as the fall turned to winter and winter to spring. He was over at the apartment a lot. I mostly didn’t mind. He was considerate, cleaned up after himself, and we got along well. What did start to bother me was the groping they would engage in on the regular right in front of me. 

Elise liked to tell me Joe and Jack (Tim’s roommates who were boyfriends), told her I shouldn’t get a dog because it takes two people to take care of it. Knowing they were saying this hurt, especially because Joe just got a dog for similar reasons I wanted one. It was also extremely confusing for me to have them talking about Elise and Tim this way, didn't I just hear from Elise that they think I am being unreasonable about the dog?

Even though Elise filled a large emotional void I felt was missing in my life, I was still struggling with escalating depression. Liam and I continued seeing each other, although not the way I wanted to. I felt like I had failed as a woman, like he didn’t love me because I wasn’t interesting enough or fun enough to be loved. Some of my worst fears of being abandoned and that I was unlovable were realized in this romantic relationship. Any hope I had about me being in a functional relationship or some day getting married dwindled, and self loathing became my norm. I began drinking at night to stop the anxious thoughts and help me fall asleep. I also started being forgetful and doing things like leaving the stove burner on, forgetting to close the cupboards, and all around just sunk inside of myself. I’d say my mental state was the closest to how I felt when I was 21 a couple years before and living with my mom. I was going to therapy and working on my social anxiety daily. I was around people every day and trying new strategies all the time, but it was exhausting and hardly ever successful. 

I thought I could be transparent with Elise about how I was feeling about the physical affection going on between her and Tim in our apartment. We would all be sitting together on the couch and they would be rubbing each other all over. One night I could have sworn I heard them having sex on the couch while I was in my room. I should have opened the door but I was too scared. Anyway, I told her I liked having Tim over but I felt uncomfortable with the amount of touching they would do. I don’t remember how I phrased it, exactly. This made her so angry. “I’m allowed to have my boyfriend over!” she would say. I tried to explain that I knew that, but it was just this one thing I didn’t like, and she made no apologies and said I was being ridiculous, and told me I was expecting her to be perfect. I later talked with someone else in the program who had a class with Elise and Tim, and brought up to me unprompted how physical they were with each other in the class and that it made a lot of people in the class uncomfortable. This was so validating. I wasn’t crazy or had unrealistic expectations. I was allowed to feel uncomfortable, I wasn’t the problem.

When it came down to resigning the lease I tried to talk with Elise about how much I loved her and cared for her, but that my mental health was deteriorating and I still really wanted a dog. Elise then drew me a diagram and stated she made compromises on the idea of getting a dog when we moved in, so the only good thing for me to do would be to make a compromise of not getting a dog if I appreciated her friendship at all. She then told me I was “choosing a dog over me”. I felt incredibly guilty. I knew the diagram she drew was dumb, but I felt that she was disappointed. 

Elise then told me and said if I was really suicidal I needed to go to the hospital and get medicated, like I wasn’t already on medication or trying at all. She started talking about how she spent a lot of time talking about me in her therapy and that her therapist sides with her. I thought that was a strange comment to make, and thought of course your therapist sides with you, you are paying her. I couldn’t imagine telling her this. She then told me I needed to confront my fears, like she did. She moved states to start a new relationship and confront her intimacy issues, and I didn’t do any self improvement. I didn’t listen to podcasts like she did, I wasn’t trying to work on myself, and getting a dog won't fix my problems, she said.

I immediately regretted giving her praise for being brave and making the move to Vermont, she ended up using that against me.  She picked apart every little thing I did. There was a time I split tea in my car and it landed on my laptop. She told me this was very concerning to her that I wasn't able to take care of my things. She let me know she notices a difference when I am running, that I drink less. She said I need to do more of that, I didn't need a dog.

I remember talking to my mom on the phone about this. She said she thought Elise was right, getting a dog won’t solve all my issues. In the end I felt bad about being so needy, and believed I was failing and she was right, maybe I could be doing more. I knew if I didn’t sign the lease again she wouldn’t have a place to live or anyone else to live with, and I would lose my only friend, so I resigned. Something in the back of my mind was telling me she was using me and felt like she had control over me, but I felt terrible for thinking badly of her, like I shouldn’t assume the worst of someone. My mother’s voice was echoing in the back of my mind, that I am judgmental, and I always assume the worst of people, I am just like my father. 

Lauren invited us to her wedding. I felt so honored to be included in her special day. I denied in my head it was because she liked me, and thought it was just because I was roommates with Elise. I drank too much at her rehearsal dinner and walked into a glass door. Her mother was very concerned. Then I smoked weed at her wedding with the guy who officiated. I knew I didn’t like the way pot affected me, but I felt like if they were smoking it, this is the normal thing to do, and I should do the “normal” thing to do at weddings. Enter a spiral regret. I became so paranoid. Elise and Tim were zero help. They mostly thought I had poor judgment, which was true, but there was zero reassurance from them that I was fine. I would look to Elise for a nod that I was acting OK, and she proceeded to ignore me. I think she was done with my shit, my constant anxiety and reassurance seeking. What she had once tolerated and loved about me now just pissed her off.

As the narrative between Elise and I turned into one where if I didn’t do what she said or agree on everything, it was because I was being unreasonable. “You expect me to be perfect” she would say to me when I would ask for her to do anything different. I spent any free time I had watching Netflix with my knees curled up to my chest, with a beer to help me fall asleep or find any comfort. I felt like I was crazy. 

Elise told me she didn’t think her friends who weren’t in relationships were growing in any sort of way, like she was. According to Elise I needed to be in a relationship to work on myself at all. I did fall in love, and I failed to turn that into a relationship. She told me she was hurt that her friendship wasn’t enough to replace my need for a dog. This made me feel guilty and made me hate myself even more.

About a month before summer, and almost a full year into our lease, I ran into our landlady by chance. She told me that she showed Tim her apartment right above ours and it was the plan that he was going to move in. This was news to me. She said something like “I’m sure Elise told you that Tim is moving in upstairs”. I don’t remember if I lied and said she did tell me or if I told her I was hearing this for the first time. I remember thinking like if this isn’t what being taken advantage of is then I must be crazy. I felt so hurt.

While the three of us were sitting on the couch about to eat pizza Tim was the one who told me he was going to move in. I told them I knew, that the landlord told me. They both looked surprised, and we continued eating our dinner. I don’t remember if I waited until it was just me and Elise to tell them how hurt I was by this, or I said it right there. Tim talked a lot about how this will be good for me because he will take care of the shoveling in the winter. What was it with these people and shoveling?

Anyway, the response from Elise that I got when I told her I was hurt was more of the same. “How dare you compare a dog to my boyfriend?” she said, “They’re like apples and oranges”. I told her I just didn’t understand why it was fair I couldn’t have a dog, that we agreed on when we moved in, and she can have her boyfriend in the upstairs apartment without talking to me about it, basically living with us. 

She told me that I am going to be a counselor some day, and that worried her. She said my reality is lost and I needed serious professional help. Also, the fact that I’m struggling with my mental health and not able to stay on top of it myself is concerning.

I was torn apart. I never made it through a day without crying. I asked for permission to take my moms cat for a couple months while she was moving. Elise said only if it’s temporary. She said she was talking to her mom on the phone and she supposed she was okay if I got a guinea pig. Tim said guinea pigs make excellent pets. I felt like I was being treated like a child. 

Having the cat in the apartment was a nightmare. She told me once “Tim and I were having a serious conversation, and the cat was staring at us and meowing.” I was unsure why she was telling me this, so my immediate response was to apologize. I apologized because my cat meowed while she was discussing something serious with her boyfriend, like it was my fault or an actual serious problem.

The cat was also old, and was having health problems. His paws were bleeding a little, and he had some bald patches. He bled a little on my sheets and I didn’t change them right away. I understand that is gross, but when you’re depressed these things feel insurmountable to get done. I didn’t have the energy at the time. I brought him to the vet offices and they could not figure out what was wrong with him. They found “flea dirt”, but no fleas. I probably didn’t need to tell Elise this, but I did. I gave her money to do laundry, and she said the cat had to go. Luckily my mom was settled and could take him back. 

Her and Tim went to a Halloween party his coworkers threw. He worked with some people we went to school with that I knew there, so I was waiting to be invited. Instead, they asked me to take a picture of them in their couples costumes and then went themselves. This was a stark difference from the Halloween we had before, and also a marker of me realizing we didn't have the same relationship I thought we once had. I remember them leaving and feeling an emptiness alone in the apartment.

Every interaction we had felt strained. It was very clear to me that we were different people who had different ideas of what friendship was. She talked about how she wanted a gun to help her feel safe. I have always been opposed to guns unless they're used for hunting, and I told her this. She then let me know that it's legal to have a gun in Vermont and Tim brings a gun over here often. I was shocked. I was angry, but I didn't let that show. I told her that made me seriously uncomfortable. What if I came home late and drunk and they thought I was a robber and shot me? Just one example of why I think guns are dangerous. Luckily she said she understood and told me she wouldn't get one, because I listened to her and didn't get a dog, she can listen to me and not get a gun. Then she left a gun safety pamphlet on the kitchen table and would talk incessantly about needing a gun. After this I had made the shift of wanting her to like me to not liking her myself. However I was still hurt by the constant rejection I felt by her.

She took a class in addictions before me, and told me about our classmate confronting her mother about her drinking. "Then her mom dumped all the vodka down the sink" Elise said with a smile. "That's awesome" I said. Elise continued to stare at me and smile. I thought, does she think that would happen with my father? My dad, the man who checked himself into rehab for yelling at his girlfriends kid, would talk to me about it and want me to feel sorry for him, and it never crossed his mind that he caused the same damage to my brother and I. My dad, who's big apology to me as a young adult was not bringing me to church, not that maybe he shouldn't have cut his 10 year old son off because he thought he was a spoiled brat. I was 99.9% sure that my dad was not going to be in a space to take responsibility for his drinking. But to Elise, this was part of me "not doing the work". According to her, I needed to confront my dad, we needed to be open and share our feelings, and come to a resolution (which would never happen), and move past it.

This is one of the things about shows like "Intervention" that bothers me. People watch it and think that's how all families who come across addiction are. Everyone who isn't addicted cares, and the person who is addicted could be shamed and take accountability. That wasn't my reality. My father would never feel sorry for hurting me if he felt justified at the time. She was really starting to piss me off.

I was still trying running as a coping skill and felt like it was making a difference, but I still struggled with feeling depressed as it turned into fall. Elise offered to pay for my half of the rent if I wanted to move out. I was surprised by this, as she just quit her job and her dad was paying her rent. But I said I would think about it and didn’t ask any questions. 

It was hard for me to find a place in my price range that allowed pets, so I didn’t take her up on her offer for a while. I eventually found someplace, and let her know I was taking her up on her offer. She looked sad, but said OK and then went upstairs to Tim’s apartment.

She came back down and said she talked with Tim and he told her that I am legally bound to my half of the rent because of the signed lease. She was enraged. “Did you know this?!?” She then proceeded to tell me I was the most selfish person she knew, and if I did know that the lease required me to pay I was terrible for taking her up on her offer. She also added that I was a bad friend and a bad person, and that all I do is sit on the couch and watch her TV. She was yelling and her face was beat red.

I don’t remember if I said anything back. I remember not breathing, and time slowing down. Getting yelled at like this put me in a state of shock and panic. She knew my history with my brother and my dad, and how much I internalized feeling selfish and hated myself. It wasn't until I was writing this it occurred to me that maybe she used what she thought would hurt me the most, feeling like I failed morally or did something selfish, against me on purpose. I packed a suitcase and stayed with some friends and my mom for a while. I couldn't bare to be in the same room with her.

I made the decision that I couldn't live with her after that. I was too hurt. It was around mid November, and our lease was until August 1st. I called the landlord to discuss what my options were. He told me both him and Elise needed to approve of a sublet, and if the sublet I found didn’t pay rent then I had to. 

She agreed she would consider subletters I found, but that she was very nervous about who she was sharing her space with. I was trying to be understanding. I felt bad for her and offered to keep my couch and coffee table in the living room, and still paid for half of the utilities. She was very nervous about me taking the coffee table. This was strange, because it was a table that had sentimental meaning in my family. It was a wedding gift from my parents wedding. She made it very clear that I needed to keep the couch and the table there. This confused me, as they seemed like very replaceable things. But I wanted her to work with me for finding a subletter, so I let them stay. From November through January I think I lived with my mom who rented a two bedroom in her friend's basement and stayed with friends in Burlington. 

During all of this, I met a guy on tinder in efforts to move on from Liam. Alex was 6’8” tall, and almost 12 years older than me. Plus, he had a dog. I thought it would be good for me to date someone older, and it was fun that he was so tall. I felt like I was cuddling with a giant at night. I felt safe around him too. He had an apartment in Burlington he kept nice and I stayed there a lot.

When I first started hanging out with Alex, he and my friend Marissa (a friend from college, one of the few friends I made, but a good friend) came back with me to get most of my stuff from the apartment. I didn’t want to be alone with Michelle so I asked them to come. Marissa was pissed at Elise, and could not wrap her mind around why I was still being nice to her. Marissa pointed to candy leftover from halloween suggesting I steal it in the living room when Elise and Tim were in the kitchen. I laughed and moved on to my bedroom to collect more stuff. It was so nice having Alex and Marissa there to help me.

I got some angry text messages from Elise when I got back to my moms. Apparently her birth control was hidden in the couch cushions. “I thought you were better than this” she said. I was genuinely shocked, and asked Marissa if it was her, which it was. I apologized to Elise, and Elise made the reasonable request that Marissa doesn’t come back to the apartment, which I agreed to.

This was so stressful. I was at my limit. I had quit my day job to make room in my schedule to shadow school counselors, and began working full time on the evening and weekend shifts in a residential program at the Howard Center, while also commuting an hour to class in Johnson. I was taking things day by day, running on low. Elise never approved of anyone I found to take over my portion of the rent, which is what I thought would happen. I got a letter written in the mail from my landlord thanking me for continuing to pay rent. I had no choice but to do so until the lease was up in August. This would total 8 months of rent for a space I wasn't living in. 8 months times $475 rent is $3,800.

Elise texted me around January or February, asking how I was. I updated her on my job and gave her a brief summary of how I was, and asked her, etc, etc. She then told me this whole thing was really hurtful for her. I had no empathy or compassion left for her. My tank was empty. I didn’t reply to the text.

I got a text message from her about four years later apologizing. "I'm sorry for the way I handled things, you were always a good friend to me" it said. I appreciated the text but was unsure how to respond. One snarky side of me wanted to ask her to pay me back $3,800 if she was actually sorry. I just ended up saying I was sorry too. That was the last time we spoke.