I met him off a website. He flew from the Arctic to Florida to meet me...romantic, or crazy? Or..just ADHD. I was so naiive. I liked him. Yea, he was strange and seemed narcissistic. I thought he was just nervous and/or awkward and looked beyond. And so we were off. Shortly thereafter, he moved from the Arctic, without an invitation, to move in. He was neurotic, not terribly creative, on the spectrum. The chemistry was good, we had so much fun. My intuition was quietly nagging: "he's not right for you." As an aspiring herbalist, he was a doctor; I ate healthy organic foods and lived sustainably, and he ate...whatever he wanted and flew all over the world whenever he wanted. Within six months, he handed me antibiotics he had in his bag. I thought I'd been roof-ied, and was extremely paranoid the next day...I'd fallen into a deeeeep sleep and could barely move my heavy limbs. I never asked what kind of antibiotics they were but said, "Don't EVER give me those again. My body does NOT like that." Six months later, we explore places to live and move to, and agree to explore, think, and revisit for a move in 6 months! I'm still in love.

A year later. An engagement ring on my finger. Farther down the wrong path. I had a deep deep intuition to end it, and fast. Then, I got an infection, which I know now what secret herbs to use for...but he freaked out and gave me antibiotics. Three doses later, I was catatonic. I couldn't walk (I ran 5 miles and worked as a landscaper daily, and had energy to spare). I couldn't read, or speak beyond a 5 year old's vocabulary. I became suicidal. These are all common side effects (!!!) of these antibiotics. He flew me to LA to get stem cell therapy from a doctor who was paralyzed after taking the same drugs, and healed himself with stem cells. I lived in LA for 6 months, ripped from family and community, to heal. They were the same fluoroquinolone (cipro, levaquin, moxafloxacin) antibiotics that he gave me a year prior. But. ADHD. He didn't remember. I needed to be done. I needed to be healed. I didn't want to regret decisions from my altered mental state so I stayed. It took me over a year to recover. I'm STILL not the same, and doubt I ever will be. The physical, emotional spirtitual journeys have been....painful, expansive, lonely. So so lonely. Even when he's with me, he's never really here.

Throughout this time, he visited me only twice in Los Angeles. He threw himself into work. He kindly paid for very expensive treatments. But avoided me. I was, suddenly, alone, in LA, with needles in my veins daily from holistic practitioners who actually knew how to help. He threw himself into applying for a different hospital residency. I was alone. And he refused to believe the "alternative" therapies were helping, even though he saw my twitches and convulsions stop with an IV of glutathione. So arrogant.

Why did I stay? It's 7 years later. We've moved two more times. My life was so full before I met him, with friends and family and community! When I have a job, I'm encouraged to quit and/or get the hostile reactions when I'm not free to travel. But when I don't have a job, he gets frustrated because I can afford much less. He needs more "support," like cleaning the garage or his trashed enormous room. But anytime I touch something I get yelled at. Self esteem, crumbling. Since we met I have suggested dietary interventions. Did he ever listen? Despite my lifetime of research and study of these topics? Naaah, because he's a doctor and they learn "EVERYTHING" in med school? Or because of the ADHD? Or because of his frail male ego?? The unintentional gaslighting: "I'll XYZ." "I never said that!" The reaction sensitivity. The moodiness. The addiction to the screen. The crashing of MY health: how many times I went out to eat with him when I've developed food allergies, just so he could get his HIT of dopamine. How many MORE times, yes MORE times, he's encouraged me to take antibiotics!!??!! How many times I've cried in utter loneliness and despair!

I thought I met someone who I could share a full life with. A good man, a good provider, a solid partner. He provides but not without raising a fit. Things are calm for ten minutes and he picks a fight or reacts to get a HIT. My nervous system has been through a hell of a training. I am fried. I need to feel safe. I need to feel protected. I need to feel honored and respected.

BUT. I care for him. He can be a grade-A a**hole, and can be sweeter than pie. I sound like an abused woman, and am beginning to think I am, with "rationale" like this. I worry he won't be okay. I worry that I'm jumping ship too early (!!!) or that I'll miss him too much, that neither of us will be able to take care of ourselves alone anymore. His brain health is NOT okay. Years ago, a glitch in his memory caused sheer PANIC (someone broke into the cars, and our gun was surprisingly unloaded. "Someone came into the house and unloaded the gun!?!?!? They're messing with us!!!".....two hours later, he remembered it was him.). We discussed it and he promised to see a brain health specialist (I was reading Dr Amen's books and felt very hopeful about his work!).Six months later, he forgot the conversation and promise, and got so angry when I told him what we agreed on. No memory! Gaslighting...I've questioned my sanity so many times. The specialist he finally decided to see is someone who prescribed adderall, vyvanse, among other things. Dr Amen says many ADHD meds actually reduce blood flow to the brain over time, and doesn't recommend them. My guy? He's great when he's on meds, but that's only when he's AT WORK. So what do I get?? A crashing partner, or no-meds on his days off. His brain seems to be getting worse.

Advice? Support? What I really really really need is courage to leave or something to change drastically. My entire being has suffered too much. It's time for me to take care of me.