OneKids

1Kids (Mike) · @OneKids

24th Dec 2018 from TwitLonger

It’s time for me to tell my story. It’s an extremely, extremely long one, and a complicated one. I initially was going to give a much shorter statement where I only vaguely accepted blame, but it felt incomplete. I have to be open about my perspective. So here it is.

9-ish years ago (October 2009), I met Jesse. We exchanged Skype contacts in a giant group call where we didn’t say one word to each other, and come January, while I was the age of 18 and Jesse was 17, I started getting invited to group calls with him and a few others. Soon after, I came up with the idea of Pokemon ‘Bridged (not the idea of parodying a show, of course, but of how I wanted to tackle it) and invited my friend Jerry along. After a month or two (and 1 episode), I invited Jesse to the team. Jesse is a talented writer and voice actor, and at the time still hadn’t discovered his gender identity, and was great at voicing female characters. He was a perfect fit.

I developed a crush on Jesse pretty quickly. Jesse was in a relationship, which I respected (and surely on some level resented), and I eventually found peace within myself to remain friends and to not want or hope for any romantic involvement. However, in November 2011, when Jesse found himself single again, we bonded even faster than we had before, and started dating.

I had never been happier. It was my first (and only) serious relationship, though somewhat long-distance (a 4 hour commute by public transit). Jesse was someone who I idolized. Unhealthily. He’s charismatic. He’s hilarious. He’s multitalented. He’s kind. He’s attractive. And I was the lucky bastard who not only got to be his friend, but something more. By this time, I was 19. Jesse was 18. I tried my best to be what I thought at the time was a good partner. I tried to give him gifts of grand gestures and great meaning. I tried to help him through family spats. I tried to comfort him and calm him down when he was upset. I tried to help him understand his sexuality better (which led, shortly after our relationship started, to him realizing he liked women). I tried to help him find an affordable college and a career path. And I tried to help him creatively fulfill himself (and of course, myself, too) through Pokemon ‘Bridged and Elite3.

After almost two years, Jesse told me he was not attracted to men. August 2013, a week before he was due to move closer to me (to go to my local college, which was a much cheaper option than the colleges he was looking at previously), he came out to me as a lesbian. We were breaking up. But we had this project that we cared about together. And he was about to move to a different town with no other local friends. And I had no other local friends, either. And we weren’t breaking up due to a disagreement or a hurtful event. We chose, together, to remain friends. Close friends. I felt it was my responsibility to support him despite my pain.

Not only was it just an unhealthy thing to do, but I was not in a mature enough place to handle having my ex as my best friend. My anxieties manifested themselves in extremely toxic ways, where I would get super jealous of any time Jesse had another partner (or even sought one), and we’d have loud arguments over it (and over my responses to it). I had wanted Jesse to see it from my perspective at the time: That I am Jesse’s friend, but still his ex. And that it hurt me to see him with other people, and that I needed some kind of space to heal my emotional wound. Jesse, rightfully annoyed and angry at how I conducted myself, expressed his own feelings of wanting me to behave myself like a friend, and not an ex. I found that to be impossible. Over time, and a lot of it, longer than the amount of time we were together, I would learn not to be jealous of the fact that I was not the one with Jesse. But by that point, other toxicity had built up in ways that were simply unacceptable.

I’ve always been an organized, Type-A person. Jesse is very different from that. This set the stage for Jesse and I to develop an extremely unhealthy codependency. Jesse felt too faint to drive somewhere, so I’d do it. Then, Jesse didn’t want to drive basically at all anymore, so I did almost all of it. Jesse became almost incapable of getting his own groceries, so I would come over to provide him a ride and company, or I'd do it all for him alone and provide delivery. If Jesse needed help in school in a class I was good at, I did my best to tutor him. I helped him sign up for school classes because he struggled with the system. When he needed an apartment, I took it upon myself to go searching for one for him. I dealt with his landlord almost exclusively, as Jesse didn’t do well with confrontation and would have anxiety attacks. I helped equip him with kitchen needs, cleaning supplies, and a way to compensate for the weird fact that his landlord’s plumbing was so fucked up that we weren’t allowed to flush toilet paper. I organized parties at his apartment, sometimes even surprise parties. I continued to make grand gestures, not intended of romance but of friendship.

Some of these things may not seem like they may be problematic on face value. I certainly didn’t think they were problematic at the time. I thought I was not only being Jesse’s best friend, but that I was being the best friend I could possibly be by helping him in any way possible. I felt that I was at least partially making up for my other personality flaws that Jesse had to put up with. I am arrogant. I am opinionated. I am obsessive. I am judgmental. Amongst other things.

The fact is, though, that my actions caused Jesse to be seemingly unable to fend for himself. He often was unwilling to drive when I wasn’t able to or didn’t want to. He often was unwilling to organize events on his own. He often was unwilling to make phone calls that needed to be made. I’m not sure how I could’ve gone about things differently, though it’s clear that I should have. Was I to let Jesse starve when he said he needed food but couldn’t go get it himself? Was I to let my friend have depressive episodes without me arriving to get him out of the house? I took on these roles, gladly, because I was trying to help my friend in a way I thought I was good at. Perhaps I *should* have let Jesse learn to fend for himself out of necessity, as difficult as it would have been for me to do. Maybe I should have focused on myself rather than infringe upon Jesse’s autonomy and personal growth.

Post-break-up, we had frequent fights, though they were almost exclusively about Jesse’s love life, and my inexcusable behaviors and feelings related to it. I look back, now, and realize that as difficult as it would have been for both of us to get space after breaking up, that we should have done so, as it would have been far healthier and less painful than what’s happened instead. I thought we could defy the conventional wisdom. I handwaved away people’s concerns and suggestions that we needed space.

After we broke up, it seemed like Jesse had found his voice. When we were dating, he was fairly passive. I didn’t make him (or want him to be) passive, it was just how Jesse was at the time. After the breakup, and not too long afterwards, I remember thinking to myself that this new Jesse was a lot more assertive. I didn't complain about it. It was good to see Jesse grow, even if it meant more disagreements with me. There were a handful of times when Jesse and I had such large arguments that we thought we would no longer be friends. I can think of at least two occasions. One time, I even tweeted about it in the immediate aftermath of the argument, only to find not too long after that we were able to mend fences and work on the issues we faced, which were always in relation to my inability to properly get over the break-up.

I was, from the moment I started crushing hard on Jesse, in a word, obsessed. I’ve always had an obsessive personality. My first obsession was Barney the Dinosaur. Then it was Pokemon. Then it was Yu-Gi-Oh. Then it was Runescape. Then it was World of Warcraft. Then it was Abridged Series. Then it was Jesse. And it’s been Jesse ever since. And it’s not healthy to obsess over anything, let alone anyone. But I felt I had the obligation to continue being this involved in Jesse’s life, and he appeared to want me in his life in this capacity as well. It takes two to argue, and it takes two to make up.

We were joined at the hip. We didn’t see movies alone. We didn’t go to parties alone (even if one of us didn’t know any of the people there). We rarely left each others’ sides at conventions, and fought at almost all of them because of my jealousy and freakishly awful behavior when Jesse was with girls (or even just seeking them). I felt separation anxiety when Jesse got invited to Brony conventions. I would message Jesse an unhealthy, incessant amount when he was away at those conventions, or even visiting his family. Particularly with the conventions, I was so insecure in my jealousy that I wanted to know Jesse wasn’t “with” someone else. I was so jealous. It was unacceptable. It is a testament to Jesse’s stamina that he stayed my friend throughout the worst of my jealousy, though he certainly didn’t hesitate to let me know how awful it made him feel when it happened. It did not go unnoticed or unaddressed. Just unfixed.

Another thing to note is that my unhealthy jealous feelings towards Jesse were not unique to him. I have one other ex, with whom I was in a much less serious relationship (we dated for 4 months, also semi-long distance, and it had very little depth to it), and when we broke up, I was also unhealthily obsessed with her and the guy she went on to date (until I got over her a few months later). I’ve never apologized to her for how I treated her, and I’m very embarrassed by the immature way I acted. I was afraid she would not accept my apology (she rightfully never respected me again). I tried to give her distance instead. She was my first break-up, and even if the relationship was never that serious, I was 19 years old and stupid... but it was an indicator of things to come with Jesse, because I didn’t get help or understand how I was wrong. There are a lot of ways I find myself embarrassed about how I acted when I was younger. I used to be *that guy* who would rant on Twitter frequently about SJWs and Feminists. I’m happy to say that I eventually quit that bad habit and have learned crucial lessons in the process. I cringe at old videos and social media posts of mine. I suspect I’m not alone.

In late 2015, after 2-3 years of Jesse being local (and us being broken up), I saw some writing on the wall with regards to finances, for all of us. I saw Jesse 1-2 years away from graduating with a degree he wasn’t super interested using for a career, tens of thousands of dollars of debt, and no job prospects to pay it back. I saw Jerry, in Pennsylvania, living with family, miserable at a full-time-job-that-didn’t-pay-like-a-full-time-job-at-near-minimum-wage and no better job/career prospects, at an age older than I was (I was 24, Jerry 26, and Jesse 23). I saw myself, still living with my grandmother, with not only no job, but having severe difficulty at college. And I came up with a plan that could help all of those things.

I pitched it to Jesse and Jerry. We could turn our talents to a business, commit ourselves to doubling down on our shared passion, Elite3, and move in together. I would gain a sense of independence from my grandmother (and Jerry from his family). Jesse would have a lower rent and roommates to split other bills with. We’d all have at least one job we enjoyed. And I figured out how to make it feasible. Jesse still had a year left of college and along with it the student loans he was already planning on taking out to pay for his living expenses. Jerry was more likely to find a well-paying part-time or full-time job (or even career!) in New York than where he was in PA. And I already had a part-time job. We’d be able to make content faster and explore new kinds of content. It would be tight at the beginning, but we could make it. Once I explained how the finances could work out, it didn't take much/any convincing. They agreed that they wanted to do it. They seemed excited. It was nerve-wracking and risky, for sure, but when there's no risk, there's no reward. And Jesse and I had been broken up for 3 years by this point. I definitely wasn’t where I needed to be, emotionally, but I was much better than I had been 3 years prior.

We registered Elite3 as a business and moved in together. We scored a place with 3 bedrooms and no shared walls, floors, or ceilings with neighbors so we could voice act and record Let’s Plays to our hearts’ content. Our utilities were included. And the rent was reasonable (Jesse would be paying a decent amount less than when he lived alone). And I took the Master Bedroom, partially as an excuse to pay more of the rent so that Jesse and Jerry could pay less, as they were less financially secure (and partially because of course I wanted a bigger room and private bathroom). Not only that, but this place was right down the street from Jesse, so we didn’t have to pay money for a moving truck. We literally carried his stuff (and Jerry scraped his knee doing it, too). When I say “we”, I realize as I'm writing this that there were significant signs of problems. I didn’t carry almost anything. I used my admittedly poor spine as an excuse to be bossy instead. I wanted to play to my strengths. Organizing. Delegating tasks. Taking the lead. But now I see that I was using that as an excuse to let my worse side run rampant. To be bossy. To be lazy. To avoid pain. To take pride in a situation that I controlled and made happen without much of a hitch.

Jerry, since making that first move, has had to jump from retail job to retail job to sales job to sales job to physically demanding job so long as he’s been here. I always wanted either to find him something more comfortable that he deserved or to have our own company reach a level of success that he would be able to dial those jobs down. Unfortunately, that never came, despite my constantly searching for job opportunities for him.

With Jesse, that opportunity did come. I got lucky. A few months after moving in with each other, literally on the day I adopted my cat Bandy, as Jesse and I stood at the shelter, waiting for them to process the paperwork and (eventually) approve the adoption, I got a call with an offer for an interview. And one of the first things I said, knowing Jesse would also be a great fit for the company and job, was “Can Jesse interview, too?” Jesse was months away from graduating, and his income from Elite3 would not be enough to pay the rent alone, not to mention his other bills. I wanted to help my friend. I wanted to give him the opportunity I’d been granted. And so we both interviewed. At the same time. Yet another unhealthy sign of codependency.

In my other job, I rather obnoxiously and routinely pitched the idea of Jesse doing commission work for my boss. And eventually, he did! My boss enjoyed the work Jesse did. Of course he did. Jesse is super fucking talented. Earlier this year, my boss and I found a great way for Jesse to consistently make content for him. And I recommended Jesse get salaried, for more money than I had been, so he could reliably pay his bills. Jesse was going to make more or less as much money from his 3 jobs as I was making with my 3 jobs. I was so happy for him. And pleased with myself, to be honest, for being able to make it happen. Jesse certainly didn't complain. He never complained about me being too much of a provider for him in our codependency. Neither of us understood how something seemingly friendly could be bad.

Some good stuff came from us living together. We were able to adopt two beautiful cats. We were able to start streaming, which was both fun and the most valuable thing timewise we’d ever done in Elite3. We weren’t able to make as many episodes of Pokemon ‘Bridged as we’d liked, but our scripting process certainly improved, and managing schedules became easier. We were able to learn cooking skills, with 3 mouths to feed and 3 wallets to split the cost with. We gave each other company. We provided emotional support through some difficult times.

However, living with Jesse and Jerry was not as easy as we’d hoped. Jerry developed a loud snore, which made it difficult for Jesse and I to sleep. Jesse and I only grew more codependent. Jerry, unable to avoid passing out after many difficult days on the job, sometimes couldn’t get his chores done or wouldn’t do it properly. I grew easily bothered by Jerry, a person who I previously had little to no qualms with. I’ve always struggled with a short temper, and I’ve gone through phases in my life where it has grown shorter and then phases where I have more control over it. I was entering a short-temper phase. I would berate Jerry for not getting the chores done, and transitioned from friendly-teasings to verbal abuse. It eventually started to take a toll on Jerry. No amount of not doing chores justifies that. And as soon as I realized that it was happening, I called myself out for it. Before Jerry had gathered the strength and frustration to confront me about it himself, I brought it up to Jerry. Told him that I wasn’t happy with how I’d been treating him. He agreed. And I got better. I no longer berate Jerry for mistakes (or anything). I no longer insult him, in anger or otherwise, for not knowing things I know. Jesse told me that my temper was out of control and that shouting was harmful. I realized I had lazily let my guard down with regards to my anger management. I’d let my temper get out of control so consistently, in a way that it hadn’t been for a long time. I apologized. And more importantly, I got better.

It wasn’t the last time I got angry, of course, but it became less frequent and less intense. I became more aware in the moment and learned to take time to breathe, calm down, apologize, and tackle whatever issue I was having in a rational manner. I still sometimes would get snippy when consulted about recurring tech problems that I’d already taught them how to fix, or if I was frequently interrupted from focusing on projects or games for seemingly insignificant reasons. This had the unintended effect of Jesse and Jerry becoming hesitant and afraid of coming to me for help, even when they actually really needed it. This was not what I wanted. I just wanted them to remember how to fix stuff when I taught it to them the first time around. And I wanted to be able to keep my focus when I was lucky enough to have it. But my reactions to their requests were not only unjustified, but harmful. I’ve treated my grandmother this way in the past, as well, when I’d be frequently interrupted for things I deemed unimportant. I still have to work on this. I get battle-worn too easily and then use it as an excuse to jump to frustration.

I needed to fix my anger management, but it wasn’t the first time I’d ever done that. From childhood, I’d learned some personal techniques, and I utilized those to get much more control over my temper. I’m proud of this. One of my core values is the ability and the desire to change and improve myself, consistently. Sometimes it’s not obvious to me what way I have to improve, but I’m always trying to find it. I dislike seeing other people stagnate. I don’t want to be that person.

Jerry and I never grew as codependent with each other as Jesse and I had. But in my attempts to help Jerry (as well as Jesse and I), I wound up hurting him as well. When our rather rude first landlords made it clear they didn’t want us in their house anymore (they blamed us for air conditioners blowing electrical lines that were supposed to be 220V... in reality the house was wired incorrectly and potentially illegally), we had to go find another place to live that would allow us to stream and voice act at all hours of the night without noise complaints. We had to find a place where Jerry’s snoring wouldn’t wake Jesse and I. We had to find a place with working electricity and air conditioning. We had to find a place with a communicative, reasonable landlord. We had to find a place where bugs didn’t emerge from the floor during the warmer parts of the year. We had to find a place that would allow us to have our cats. And we had to find a place we could afford. Each of these things were difficult in and of themselves, but I managed to find a place, having taken most of the responsibility of house hunting upon myself, as a codependent Provider often does. However, the rent was $200 more per month and the utilities were not included. Jesse and I had scored the job we interviewed together for, but Jerry was still struggling. So we made a deal where Jesse and I, being more busy and financially secure, would pay more money in exchange for Jerry doing more chores. And during the times Jerry found himself unemployed, we doubled down on that, paying even more in exchange for even more chores.

The result was that instead of just helping our friend when he was in need like we should have, Jerry eventually reported that he felt like a slave. He was commanded by both of us to do chores, and in retrospect, it was also super tactless, the way we communicated our requests. That was never my intent. I expect it was also not Jesse’s. And Jesse likely took from my example of how I was talking to him. Jerry is currently employed again, but he and I agreed to reverse any and all rent reductions, as well as to evenly split chore delegations. Even though it’s a very recent development, I’ve made sure to not let a fair and equal rent/chores situation stop me from doing more than my share of chores to help my friend, who works a grueling job with 12 hour shifts and more physical agony than I can comprehend. Jerry and I have had many, many long and in-depth talks over the last two months. I hurt him. And he never hurt me back. It is clear cut. I was bad to him, and he was good to me. We’ve agreed to work to repair our friendship. And when our lease is up here, though I’ll miss him dearly, he’s found himself a better living arrangement where he can get a decent job at half the rent. I’ve encouraged him to go that route, and it sounds like he is. I’m happy for him and will miss living with him.

Earlier this year, Jesse came out as a trans man. We’d had discussions about it prior. About gender. About how he felt. For a while, he identified, both to me and publicly (when asked) as genderfluid. Eventually, in discussions with me, he told me he thought he was probably a trans man.

I am cisgendered. I didn’t have any close trans friends that I’d talked to about their experience. What’s more, I had trace amounts of transphobia, in the traditional sense of a phobia, and in my lack of knowledge. I did know some trans people, but I felt uncomfortable around them, despite nothing but love and understanding coming from them. I didn’t understand dysphoria (and I likely never fully will, as I’m not trans), and I was afraid for Jesse. I was afraid that Jesse, who had found it relatively easy to come out as a lesbian, would find coming out as trans more difficult. I was under the impression that the dangers of Jesse coming out could be worse for him than the discomfort of not coming out. I discouraged him from coming out.

I was wrong. I was flat-out wrong. And a few months after Jesse came out this year, and after learning more about his experience and the experience of other trans people, I remembered the time I'd discouraged him from coming out, and when I arrived home, I apologized. I told him that any perceived dangers I thought I foresaw, any uncomfortability it may have given me (though I don't believe that's why I discouraged him), was not worth the pain it gave him or the damage it caused. Upon seeing how much happier he was as an out trans man, and the meaning he had given to many others on Twitter and YouTube who were dealing with their own similar struggles… I knew I was wrong. And I apologized. I am truly sorry. And furthermore, I am truly sorry to the trans people who have entered my life and found a cold shoulder from me rather than a warm embrace. That is my fault. I am embarrassed to say that I acted in that way. I am proudly a progressive person and believe all people are born equal. No one should have to feel alone or afraid or insecure or disliked over the way they were born and cannot change.

Early this year, I finally came to the realization that Jesse and I had become codependent. That I had largely become the Provider to Jesse’s Needs. I had heard of the psych term “codependency” previously, but didn’t connect the dots to us until 2018. Jesse and I had discussions about it, and started taking inventory of the toxic elements of our friendship. We managed to make some progress, perhaps not fast enough. I encouraged him to organize his own calendar and arrange his attendance at events without me. I pointed out that many of the things he was asking for permission to do were things I shouldn’t have power over in the first place.

When Jesse came out publicly as trans, he and I talked about Elite3. Did he want to continue Pokemon ‘Bridged? What about testosterone? Would we be able to continue when his voice changes? Did he want to delay testosterone for the show? For another reason? Jesse told me that he still had stories to tell in that body. It wasn’t just Pokemon ‘Bridged, he said. He was in several other projects in female roles. And he even came up with a really cool idea for a movie where he’d undergo transition while filming the movie. Eventually, he’d probably go on testosterone. But not yet.

A few months later, and Jesse had changed his mind. He was going to pull out of some projects, he got a few of his roles changed from female characters to trans men, he wasn’t accepting new female roles, he didn’t want to do his movie idea anymore, and he was finishing up a few of the remaining female roles. He still wanted to complete Pokemon ‘Bridged. And he was willing to delay testosterone in order to complete it. But it was time to crack down, get the rest of it written, and his roles voiced. And more importantly, it was time for him to set a rough date for him to start hormone therapy, and along with it, a deadline for us to finish Pokemon ‘Bridged. It turned into an argument. Not because I didn’t want Jesse to have a deadline for his testosterone for the sake of his mental health, but because I wanted both of us to have our cake and eat it too. I wanted Jesse to be able to transition AND finish Pokemon ‘Bridged. I wanted my friend to be healthy as soon as possible AND for us to have the creative satisfaction of finishing a project we’d poured our blood, sweat, and tears into for 8 years. My words came off as negotiating. That I was trying to delay Jesse’s transition as if it were under my control. That I cared more about the show than him. I wasn’t demanding, but I was asking Jesse to give more time (initially he wanted next summer for the deadline, then reconsidered and said February). I wasn’t sure if we could finish the show in time. I was nervous that one or two unexpected sicknesses in Winter could make it impossible for us to finish scripting and voicing in that time. I asked him to perhaps set a soft deadline of February and hard deadline by summer, so that he could have a hard deadline for his mental health, but so that we could make sure that the lack of time was not the reason we didn’t finish the show.

Pokemon ‘Bridged meant a lot to me. Not as much as my friend meant to me. I failed to communicate that. But not only was Pokemon ‘Bridged a major factor in my life, it was also a major factor in Jesse’s that he was actively expressing the interest in completing, and not just for my sake. I didn’t think I was hurting Jesse. I didn’t think what I was asking was unreasonable or offensive. I thought I was discussing something with my friend/business partner. It was a perfect example of how difficult it is to compartmentalize a friendship and business partnership. Things get messy. I let my business partner side affect my friend. I wish I’d known better.

There were other issues. Almost anyone who had spent more than ten seconds with Jesse and I together could tell something was off. Eventually, in early November, Jesse informed me that he didn’t want to be my friend anymore. As you can imagine, I didn’t take this well. Jesse was my best friend. Jesse was my obsession. Jesse had been a part of everything in my life that made it good. We were too close. I cared too much about him. This person, who presumably knew me better than anyone else in the world, had decided he didn’t want me in his life. I was distraught. I am still distraught.

Over the weeks following, Jesse and I started to communicate less and less. When I did try to communicate with him, Jesse alleged that it was because I was desperate for his attention. So I tried to communicate less, and things got worse. Jesse initially wanted to try to keep Elite3 alive in some form, something I didn't expect, even though he and I were no longer friends. That we could find a way to cohabitate for the remainder of the lease without codepending or interacting. It didn’t take long before it became clear that it wasn’t possible. I found it impossible to do everything Jesse wanted me to do while also not inflicting unnecessary emotional self harm.

The multitudes of differing, independent voices of support and advice over the last few weeks and months has resulted in a lot of instability within myself. I had people telling me to be calm and collected. I had people telling me to be on my guard. I've had people telling me to do whatever Jesse wanted. I've had people telling me to take care of myself first. I've had people telling me I'm a manipulator. I've had people telling me that this whole thing is being blown out of proportion. I've had people telling me I made mistakes but am not irredeemable. I've had people telling me I'm unforgivable. I’ve had people tell me I care far too much about Jesse. I’ve had people tell me that I don’t care at all about Jesse. What am I supposed to do with this?

In the midst of all of this, it’s important to also point out that Jesse’s partner (and the way I reacted to them) had a role to play in this, as well. I initially wrote this statement without including them, but eventually I felt that it was dishonest for me to try to paint such an incomplete picture.

Shortly after Jesse began dating his partner in August this year, they expressed concern to both Jesse and I, saying, in their opinion, that we were codependent and that there were red flags of emotional abuse. This confirmed prior conclusions Jesse and I had already made, as we’d started addressing the toxicity earlier in the year. I agreed with them and was seeking to change. I viewed 2018 as a year for personal improvement, and I’d already made great strides. The way I treated Jesse and Jerry had improved. My appearance (eye surgery). My hygiene. My personality. My physical fitness. I was not only accepting of what they said, I was eager to hear more outside perspectives. They expressed how difficult of a position they were in, watching someone that they cared about in a problematic friendship. I was sorry that I had put them in that position. I thought, with hard work, I/we could make the improvements necessary to make the friendship healthy.

Part of the things that Jesse’s partner immediately found problematic was that I wasn’t okay with them coming to the house and sleeping over with Jesse. I had difficulty seeing public displays of affection between them. This was very clearly an unhealthy, jealous remnant of the break-up. I’m proud to say that, even though it took convincing and a week or so of time (neither of which should’ve been necessary, but by that point we were 5 years down the rabbit hole of trying to stay best friends after the breakup), I got over both of those things. Or rather, I learned to keep my unhealthy anxiety to myself and to not use it as an excuse for bad behavior. And as I did that, the anxiety itself shrunk. Immersion therapy, essentially.

Roughly a month or so afterwards, Jesse approached me about the idea that he’d like to live with his partner once our lease was up in summer of next year. I didn’t take this well. To me, I saw every lease and lease renewal we’d signed as an understood social contract committing and recommitting to growing our group and projects. I saw every purchase we made with business money as an investment the three of us were making in our group. Some of those, particularly expensive things like the camera setup, I viewed as long-term investments.

The way we’d set ourselves up, with the recording/streaming equipment in our living room (and the convenience that us living together provided for scheduling) made it difficult for me to imagine the group continuing after Jesse moved out. Importantly, I was also judgmental of the idea that someone would talk about moving in with their partner after a month of dating. I’m no expert on dating. That wasn’t my judgment to make. Being judgmental is a huge part of my personality that I need to work on.

I also was wary of any negative feelings I had to Jesse’s partner, because I knew my history with jealousy, and while it’d been 5 years since our break-up and I’d much improved, I couldn’t be absolutely sure that my feelings were purely of genuine concern and not subconsciously rooted in leftover feelings. I felt confused and gaslit. I expressed to Jesse’s partner that I felt the way I did because his partner had phrased things as if my outlook on relationships, which I thought was rooted in basic conventional wisdom, was actually wrong. I received (and accepted) an apology. As I write this paragraph? I realize how stupid I sounded. I was making a big deal over nothing. If Jesse and his partner wanted to talk about moving in after one month of dating, power to them, that’s their decision to make, and I shouldn’t have been any part of that. Any concern I had about the continuation of our business should have been left to that.

Things got worse. Jesse’s partner continued to find things that they said was emotionally abusive or manipulative. Sometimes, I agreed. Other times, I believed they could maybe have a point but I struggled to understand. And sometimes I adamantly disagreed, no matter how hard I tried to hear them out. As a result, I sought counsel from my friends. Unfortunately, nearly all of my friends are mutual friends with Jesse, which makes things complicated for all of us. This is another consequence of our codependence. I wanted Jesse involved in every part of my life. I realize now that it’s probably not just codependence but a remnant of my romantic feelings for Jesse that never resolved. Unhealthy romantic feelings at that, because even if we had been dating, partners don’t need to be involved in every part of each others’ lives, and probably shouldn’t be.

Another thing that didn’t help, but wasn’t emotional abuse, was that Jesse’s partner and I have some political differences. We both lean the same way and generally agree on policy, but have vastly different outlooks when it comes to strategy. This shouldn’t have been a big factor, but I think it was negative icing on the negative cake. It didn’t help my feelings towards them, nor their feelings towards me. They're surely a better ideological match for Jesse than I ever was.

As I clashed more and more with Jesse’s partner, and by extension, Jesse, my downward spiral accelerated. I was more stressed than I’d ever been. The stress manifested itself in a physical way through acne, appetite, and grey hairs. Quicker and quicker I became defensive and combative, particularly with Jesse’s partner. I reached out to my friends, seeking not only advice but reassurance that I’m not actually a monster. I was beginning to internalize the criticisms as a part of my self-image.

Some of my friends said that I had made big mistakes and I was undergoing the most serious learning experience of my life. One or two told me that Jesse’s partner was completely correct/reasonable and that I was overreacting to them. And I also had a select few telling me that, based off what I’d told them, Jesse’s partner was purposefully out to get me and everything I cared about. I tried to be as accurate about the situation as possible. I tried to portray Jesse and his partner’s side of the story as best I could. I defended Jesse’s partner from the biggest critics on multiple occasions. I didn’t believe that they were purposefully out to get me. But hearing it come from others gave my anxious, type-A, overactive mind a constant doubt/feeling of suspicion. I don’t think I could ever truly hear out what Jesse’s partner was telling me so long as there was a part of my brain telling me that there was a chance I was being manipulated into surrendering my life to them. I tried my best to listen. But I don’t know how differently I would have taken their words if I hadn’t had those doubts.

I tried making peace with Jesse’s partner whenever possible. I tried to offer gifts, do favors, what have you. I tried my best, given my mental state, to hear them out. But I quite simply didn’t agree with everything. And I’m not the type of guy to lie to their face and say that I agreed with them for the sake of a false peace. If I was that type of person, we wouldn’t have had such frequent and exhausting and long discussions (which eventually became arguments).

After Jesse told me he no longer wanted to be my friend, I imploded. I said things I didn’t truly mean. I was crying. I was angry. I was hurt. I wanted to show how important it was that I was fighting for our friendship. I threw a friend under the bus in order to save face for a stupid thing I said in anger and didn’t mean. I didn’t know what I really believed at that point. For once in my life, I found myself without strong opinions. It’s difficult to explain how it feels to someone who generally has confidence in their worldview, to have severe doubts and uncertainty about fundamental things previously thought obvious. I was trying to stay true to my values of introspection and self-improvement and being open to criticism and new information. It resulted in a massive, insecure breakdown.

This would continue into the following weeks as we tried to see how much of the existing situation we could make work, such as continuing Pokemon ‘Bridged or our cohabitation. Between my own mood swings and constantly flipping opinions, one could easily have thought, based off of incomplete information, that I was simply lying compulsively. I was saying something to one person in a depressed and defeated mood, then become more assertive and defiant, talk to another person, and give a completely different take on the situation which passed the blame. One person I’d talk to and blame Jesse’s partner, the next I’d say it was all my fault. I’ve had those mood swings whilst writing this, and I’ve had to take extra time to make sure that the final version is fair, accurate, consistent, and as level-headed as can be.

During my implosion, I began to emotionally self-harm. It was the only alternative to physical self-harm, which I avoided so as not to hurt my family. My emotional self-harm, in addition to telling myself the ugliest possible things about myself (the exact opposite of the self-compassion my therapists were teaching me), largely consisted of talking to friends and confessing all of the things I’ve ever done. I convinced myself that I couldn’t possibly accept the support of any of my friends if they didn’t know everything. Some of my friends chose to leave me. There was at least one person I told who I was sure would leave me immediately upon confession, and despite how very, very much he means to me, I told him anyways. This was my self-harm. This was me giving myself what I felt I deserved. I didn’t want friendships based on a false premise, I told myself.

Many of my friends said that they understood that I made many and severe mistakes, but that I was clearly aware of it and working to change. That I was seeking help. Some of those people have since chosen to leave me as well. They didn’t tell me why. I won’t presume to know for sure. And I will miss all of the people I’ve lost dearly, but I accept that this is all a result of my own actions. I can’t control other people’s actions. Only my own. And I can see how different actions could have resulted in a much different outcome.

I feel that it’s important to state at this point that despite me focusing on and covering mainly some of the negative parts of my role in this toxic friendship, it’s of course not the entire content of what happened. But the negative parts are so significant that they are the only things worth thinking about right now. Abusive actions are not to be glossed over with nice memories. It’s time to turn the page, end the chapter, start a new book, pick your metaphor. For both of our sakes. I understand that. I will miss him more than anyone can ever understand.

My own choices, actions, and responsibilities. This is my new obsession. One reason is because this is the stage of recovery my therapists have said I am in. The second reason is because I don’t want to air any more of our dirty laundry in public than is necessary. I don’t want to argue with Jesse, publicly or otherwise. Our friendship was toxic. I want him to move on. I want him to be healthy and happy. I want to get better. I want to make sure I’m never causing a toxic friendship ever again. No one gains anything from Jesse and I publicly picking away at everything.

I’ve been seeing one of my therapists since September, when it became clear that my unresolved jealousy and emotional abuse and codependency were bigger than I thought. I’ve been seeing a second therapist twice a week since early November, when Jesse told me he didn’t want to be my friend anymore. After much research and consultation, I made plans a few weeks ago to undergo intake at a behavioral health hospital on January 2nd (waiting only for insurance reasons). There, they’ll decide whether I need inpatient, partial, or outpatient care. I will be seeing a psychiatrist there in any case. I feel that it’s incredibly important for me to seek out every bit of help that I can get. I have never before taken self-care so seriously. And so long as I can afford to do these things, I will continue to seek help. I’ve been diagnosed now with a personality disorder, and I’m open to the idea of medication. I’ve been undergoing Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy and more.

A huge part of the recovery process is taking responsibility for what I’ve done, yet not engaging in gratuitous self-deprecation. It’s important that, in the future, I not take the lazy/comfortable way out and look back on this mess as anything less than what it was. This post is one step in that direction.

Unless otherwise necessary, I will be continuing to take a break from social media and content creation for a while, until I’m a person who better deserves it. Any of the people in my personal social circle (or formerly in it) are welcome to message me, even if only to express their disappointment without pushback. I'm not hiding from my actions and their consequences.

I have never wanted to hurt Jesse or Jerry. To Jesse, I simultaneously took on the incompatible roles of best friend, ex-boyfriend, father figure, brother, coworker, and supervisor. I let it spiral far, far out of control. I hate myself, that it happened under my watch. My lack of intent does not excuse my actions. But I have never sought to control or abuse my friends, or anyone for that matter, for my own gain. I accept my responsibility. Pokemon ‘Bridged is not coming back. Jesse will never be my friend again. Nor will many others. I am paying for my actions, as I should. I am not trying to hurt anyone. I have changed in the past and I can change more. I will change more. I must change more. I must never stop changing for the better. This is who I am. This is what I’ve done. This is how I’ve felt. This is why I’ve behaved as I have.

Thank you for reading. I am sorry.

Please support Jesse on Patreon at http://www.patreon.com/Nowacking
Please follow Jesse on Twitter at http://www.twitter.com/Nowacking
Please follow Jerry on Twitter at http://www.twitter.com/xJerry64x

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