January 2018 was a hard month. Hard on me, hard on her. She got trashed at a work party and couldn't even talk. My car was broken, and I walked for a half hour through a foot of hard snow to go to her apartment, as she had requested through her DD's phone (because she lost hers or it died or something). I arrived to find her bordering on conscious, and I took the ring. Looking at her, I thought, "this isn't what I want to see when I look at the mother of my kids." I took the ring, and I can't even remember the few days that followed. We broke up(ish) for a while. We were still pretty much together, but without a label. She had her friend/coworker take a bunch of boudoir photos of her, and she started posting them on her social media. She thrived on the attention paid to her body. I lost my cool and ended up slicing my arm open because I couldn't stay in control of myself.
January 2018 was a hard month. Hard on me, hard on her. Making it through was nothing short of a miracle, and even though I changed my meds and tried to get back into regular counseling, it wasn't enough to make me worth it to her in the end.
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