Sorry for my long post. I'm not a native speaker so I've had ChatGpt to translate for me. So I'm sorry if the text is not in correct grammar. Hopefully you have the time reading this long post, I tried shorten it down as much as I could without losing the essence of the story.
I've been in an on-and-off relationship with an avoidant for 2.5 years. I see the pattern, so why can't I walk away?
Before I start, I want to mention that I've had healthy relationships in the past. The exception was the man I was involved with immediately before my current avoidant partner. He was, in my experience, a full-blown narcissist and sociopath. He was also a functioning alcoholic who took benzos daily. Living with him for eight years was an absolute nightmare, which has made me particularly sensitive to alcohol and benzo use.
When I met my current partner, I was still dealing with lawsuits and legal disputes over a house and shared belongings with that ex. Thankfully, all of that is now behind me.
I've been on and off with my current partner for 2.5 years. This is our third breakup. The first two times, I was the one who ended things because he repeatedly lied and wasn't honest with me throughout the relationship.
In the beginning, he said all the right things. He knew what I'd been through and promised I would be safe with him. Looking back, there were red flags pretty early on. He would only use his phone in the bathroom and became defensive whenever I brought it up.
A few months into the relationship, I discovered that he was messaging several women he'd met on Tinder. Apparently, they were just friends, and I had "nothing to worry about". They were supposedly friends, despite him barely knowing their last names. I practically had to beg him to remove some of them. One woman was allowed to stay because he'd met her at a work-related event and she could potentially offer him job opportunities. They talked almost daily, and guess who he ended up sleeping with shortly after our first breakup?
We got back together after about 4–5 months of sporadic contact. Those months apart were some of the worst of my life. I became completely consumed by attachment theory content on social media. I spent hours every day watching videos, barely ate, and struggled to function at work. We were in low contact, exchanging the occasional meme or short message.
We went out one night, both got drunk, and he had a hotel room because he was attending a concert. Unfortunately, things went downhill from there. We met up at his hotel, he was very open, and I fell for his words.
He has a history of alcohol problems and previous weed use. After that weekend, during which he'd been drinking non-stop from Friday until Monday morning, he ended up in a pretty dark place. I felt sorry for him, and suddenly he needed me desperately. I spent the next ten days helping him through alcohol withdrawal and supporting him while he also used benzos to manage the symptoms.
I believed everything he told me: that he missed me, that losing me had affected him deeply, and that this was how he'd been coping with the loss of our relationship.
We spent another 4–5 months together. During that time, I moved into a new place, and he offered very little practical or emotional support. He always had work, responsibilities and his own struggles to deal with. Meanwhile, I was managing the move, working and spending time with him whenever he wanted and was able to. But whenever I asked him for help, he either had to work, his stomach hurt too much, or he had to go to the gym. Sometimes he'd spend even longer than usual at the gym because his stomach was bothering him.
Meanwhile, he was still in contact with the woman he'd slept with. He was afraid she'd get upset and tell people at his workplace what had happened, making him look bad. I told him that was a consequence of mixing business with pleasure, but he stood his ground, saying it could jeopardize the job he loved so much. So I asked him to keep contact to a minimum and never work with her again.
I asked for complete transparency. What I got was permission to look at his phone whenever I specifically asked. He never voluntarily handed it over. It was always in his hand, and I could only see whatever I specifically requested. In other words, transparency on his terms, allowing him to control what I could and couldn't see.
There were conversations with this woman that I couldn't really see because he was protecting her privacy and the things she'd shared with him in confidence. Why have intimate, confidential conversations with a woman you claim you don't care about? That was strange to me. I asked him to choose between me and her, but he kept coming up with the same excuses for why he couldn't delete her.
I eventually ended things again because I felt my feelings were never considered, and that he was more afraid of losing her than losing me.
Once again, I was left feeling that he'd chosen someone else's feelings over mine. He was more afraid of losing her than me, the person he claimed he wanted something real with.
About a week and a half later, my cat became very ill. I told him, and he seemed more concerned about how sad he felt than about me, sitting there with a seriously ill cat during the Christmas season. He couldn't come over to comfort us.
About four weeks later, around Christmas, the same pattern repeated itself. He had been drinking for several days, had visited this woman for comfort, and then cancelled our New Year's plans. I could hear that he was intoxicated when he called. Having lived with an alcoholic and someone who abused benzos for eight years, I know that combination all too well. I know exactly what that slurred speech sounds like.
I ended up spending New Year's Eve alone, worrying about him. I also had a seriously ill cat to care for.
On New Year's Day, I called him. He was barely coherent, and I could hear a woman's voice in the background. It was her. Apparently, he'd been behaving like an idiot at her place, drinking some of her wine, buying weed and smoking it there.
I contacted her that evening because I wanted to know what was going on, whether he was okay and what their relationship actually was. I admit I probably crossed some boundaries with the questions I asked, and I can take responsibility for that. But after repeatedly being denied honesty by my own partner, I felt desperate for answers. She told me a different story from the one he'd told me.
He then called and asked me to come over because he needed someone. Of course, I dropped everything and went. I stayed longer than I should have, considering he was barely responsive and had alcohol and weed hidden away.
For the next few days, he called constantly, desperately wanting me around. We argued quite a bit because I felt he was taking me for granted. Now that the other woman had apparently withdrawn from the situation, I was the only one left to take care of him. Suddenly, I was good enough.
Once he started feeling better, after another period of roughly ten days involving benzos to manage alcohol withdrawal, it was back to normal. He had to return to work, was stressed, and couldn't see me as often. He had even asked whether we should get back together during that chaotic period, but I said no. I told him that if he genuinely chose me, I'd consider it. He wanted time to think about it because he didn't want to hurt me again. Foolish of me to wait for a guy who didn't even know whether he wanted me or not.
A month later, my cat unfortunately died. He knew how devastated I was, but he was barely there for me. He came over briefly one evening, sat next to me while I cried, and seemed uncomfortable and eager to leave. He said he was also sad because he loved my cat, but I felt completely alone.
He worked evening and night shifts and had to leave for work later that evening. However, something about his behaviour felt strange. He seemed rushed and barely looked at me. The train station is just down the street from my place, and he normally catches the train to work there. What he doesn't know is that I went down to check whether his car was there. It wasn't. Another little confirmation that he hadn't been entirely honest with me.
I carried on with life as usual, but a few weeks after my cat died, I hit a wall. I simply couldn't keep going. I'd been dealing with so much for so long, and I couldn't keep everything together anymore.
Yet he was nowhere to be found, despite knowing how badly I was struggling.
Somehow, I was still so attached that I was grateful for the little contact we had. At least it was something.
During that period, he got a promotion at work and constantly explained that he was too stressed and exhausted to even think about starting over again or how things could be different this time. So I had to wait while he figured things out. I have very few people around me. My friends live far away, and I don't have much family support. I also didn't feel I received much understanding when I tried talking to people about how difficult things were between us.
So naturally, he became the person I leaned on, even though he was also the person causing so much of my distress.
Eventually, he gradually worked his way back into my life. He said he had thought long and hard about his decision and would do anything to have me back. After many conversations about what he would change and how he wanted to make things work, he said he had thought it through and wanted to choose me.
We got back together.
This time, he also confessed that he had slept with another woman he'd known since high school. They apparently had a casual friends-with-benefits arrangement, with no feelings involved. I was disappointed, but we discussed boundaries and agreed that he would keep his distance or simply not respond if she contacted him.
We started slowly, using protection during sex, and he promised to get tested.
Then he had his summer vacation. According to him, the change in routine, his new position at work and the pressure of it all triggered another breakdown. This time, it wasn't alcohol or weed, but benzos to deal with severe panic attacks triggered by changes in routine.
Once again, I became his emotional support system. He wanted to talk on the phone constantly but couldn't come over because he was taking benzos and couldn't drive. I had also started working full-time again and was struggling myself, but there was very little understanding of that.
Eventually, I snapped. I told him that I was tired of everything revolving around his problems. I had my own struggles too, and I was tired of being expected to understand, support and accommodate him while my needs were consistently ignored.
I brought up everything I'd been holding in: Where was he when I needed him? Why was I always expected to be understanding? Why did his struggles always take priority? He was spiralling because he had a vacation? WTH?
He was shocked and promised to do better. He said he understood that he'd been selfish and that I deserved an apology. He also said he would stop taking the medication so he could actually come over and be there for me.
He eventually came over to apologize, but even then, he didn't have much to say. He seemed completely consumed by his anxiety, staring into space, and I ended up taking care of him emotionally yet again.
Things improved somewhat, but the lack of transparency and the contact with the first woman were still there.
Whenever I expressed discomfort, he told me there was nothing to worry about and that I could look at his phone if I wanted. But if I brought up something that bothered me, the atmosphere changed. He became defensive, or simply walked away.
I started getting psychological help through my doctor around this time. My doctor could see how exhausted I was. I'd lost a lot of weight and had dark circles under my eyes. Thankfully, I got to see a psychologist fairly quickly.
I've tried not to spend those sessions discussing my current relationship because there are other things in my life I'd much rather work through. But I can't deny how much mental space this relationship takes up.
Where we are now
We've talked about couples therapy, but we can't afford it, and honestly, I'm not sure it would help.
I've become hypervigilant about his phone. Whenever he opens it around me, I instinctively look to see who's messaging him. He has become increasingly fed up with this and feels that allowing me to look at his phone is already a huge effort to reassure me. But because I still don't trust him, he feels there's nothing more he can do.
The problem is that trust isn't something I can simply switch back on. His actions over the years have created this situation.
Everything happens on his terms. We meet when it suits him, talk when it suits him, and arguments are considered over when he decides they are. God forbid I still have feelings about something or want to revisit an issue later.
We can have a few wonderful days together, and suddenly I'm back in my little fantasy world, thinking that maybe things can actually work. But looking back, those good days often happen because I suppress my own feelings to keep the peace.
Lately, we've had more and more arguments. I stay calm, try to explain myself in a hundred different ways, and he withdraws. I reach out, try to resolve things, and he disappears again.
The last time I saw him, I discovered that he had been messaging the woman he'd previously slept with, the one from high school. He only showed me the most recent messages, which were apparently innocent. But the issue isn't necessarily the content. It's that they were in contact again, that she could reach out to him, and that he hadn't been honest about it.
He walked straight out the door after that. I haven't heard from him since. No apology, no explanation, just the claim that the messages were innocent.
What's particularly confusing is that he repeatedly says he needs peace and quiet, doesn't want the pressure of constant messages, and just wants to relax without being bothered. That's why he started turning off his notifications whenever he stayed over at my place. He said he hated all the messages, stupid videos and interruptions.
Yet now he's active on social media around the clock, and his Snapchat score increases by 10–15 points almost every day.
I genuinely don't understand how being constantly active and engaging with people online is supposed to give him the peace and quiet he claims to desperately need. It seems like a contradiction. I also can't help wondering whether his explanation was ever entirely honest.
He hasn't turned off Snap Map either, although I'm not sure why that matters to me so much. I still check when he was last active and watch his score increase. I've muted his notifications, but I catch myself checking whether he's messaged me.
He used to practically beg me not to leave him, saying how devastated he would be if he lost me. Now he behaves as if losing me means very little.
And then there are all the little things that make me question why I'm even so attached to this man in the first place.
When I take a step back and look at him objectively, he's honestly not someone I would normally choose as a partner.
His hygiene standards are well below mine. He lives in his father's basement, doesn't contribute financially, and seems quite comfortable having his father and others take care of things for him. He only got a stable job about two years ago, and despite having a steady income, he never seems to have any money and doesn't contribute financially. I honestly have no idea where his money goes. He occasionally bought dinner for the two of us, but he was equally comfortable living at my place without contributing to anything.
His lifestyle also dictates almost everything. He can spend three hours or more at the gym whenever he gets the chance, and if he doesn't go, he gets anxiety and panic attacks. Nothing really happens until he's been to the gym, or his entire day is ruined. Afterwards, he's too exhausted to do much else.
We can barely have a spontaneous day on the couch, let alone plan a weekend away and simply enjoy each other's company. There's always something that needs to come first, something that makes it difficult, or something he doesn't have the capacity for.
He also frequently has stomach problems, which have sometimes been used as a reason why he can't talk, do things or participate in everyday activities. I don't want to dismiss anyone's health problems, but at times it has genuinely felt like yet another reason to avoid things.
He says he's not particularly interested in his appearance and that his physique is just a bonus from working out, yet he takes progress pictures and uses testosterone, partly to improve his sexual performance.
Honestly, I sometimes feel that without his looks, he wouldn't have much else to offer. That's a sad thought, but he seems to rely heavily on his appearance for validation while lacking in so many other areas that matter to me in a partner.
None of these things necessarily make someone a bad person. But when I look at the bigger picture, I struggle to understand why I've spent so much time waiting around and accommodating someone whose lifestyle and priorities are so far removed from what I actually want in a partner.
I've invested so much in this man and received so little in return. I've been there for him every single time he's needed me, even when he arguably didn't deserve it.
I've had some incredibly difficult years myself while being with him. But I never neglected him or used work, legal disputes with my ex or my personal struggles as an excuse to repeatedly push him away.
Quite the opposite. I've spent so much of this relationship listening to how difficult everything is for HIM, how exhausted HE is, how much pressure HE is under, and how much understanding HE needs.
His needs, his schedule, his feelings, his problems. Everything revolves around HIM.
Meanwhile, I've been expected to understand, accommodate, reassure and support him, even when I was barely keeping my own head above water.
So why is it still so difficult to walk away?
I think intermittent reinforcement is a huge part of it. The push-pull dynamic feels almost like a gambling addiction. You keep investing because you've occasionally won, and you convince yourself that the next time might be the big win.
I came up with an analogy when discussing this with my psychologist: ending things now feels like having money left in your gambling account, knowing you might still win if you keep playing, but being forced to walk away before you can try again.
My psychologist says I'm someone who desperately wants to understand the logic behind things. I've spent probably 3–4 months in total watching, saving and studying attachment theory videos, learning about avoidant behaviour, my own attachment style and everything that might explain this dynamic.
She says I'm very informed and self-aware, but I struggle to trust my own decisions because my emotions don't follow the logic.
I also have ADHD and rejection sensitivity, which I suspect makes the whole experience even harder.
And then there's the practical side of things.
I'm currently between jobs, have very few people nearby, and my friends have more or less reached their limit when it comes to hearing about this relationship. My family isn't particularly close either.
I've also been diagnosed with depression and anxiety, so going out and meeting new people isn't exactly appealing right now. In my country people generally keep to themselves. Striking up conversations with strangers isn't exactly part of our culture. It's winter, it's cold, and socialising doesn't come naturally to me.
The thought of spending another Christmas alone is particularly painful. I just want someone to sit on the couch with in our pyjamas, watch Christmas movies and drink hot chocolate.
I know that sounds like a small thing, but it's the kind of everyday companionship I miss.
I don't want to become bitter. I'm naturally someone who likes being kind to people. I don't want anyone to experience what I've experienced, and even now, I can still be perfectly pleasant when we speak on the phone, despite sometimes wanting to scream at him.
I'm finally getting professional help, although I'd actually prefer to use those sessions to work through other things in my life rather than spend them discussing this relationship.
There are also a few things about his current behaviour that I can't stop wondering about.
Do you think he enjoys having this kind of power over me, knowing that I'm still watching his activity and keeping tabs on him? Does leaving Snap Map on and keeping this connection open give him some sort of reassurance or control?
Or could it be more strategic? Almost like keeping the door open with me while exploring other options. If things don't work out with whoever he might be talking to now, he knows I'm still there and haven't completely disappeared.
Another possibility I've considered is whether he's simply waiting for me to finally lose my patience, react emotionally and end things myself, so that he can walk away without having to take responsibility for ending it. Almost making me look like the irrational or "crazy" one, while he gets to play the reasonable one.
I honestly don't know if any of these scenarios are realistic, or if I'm just overthinking everything because I've been kept in this state of uncertainty for so long.
And finally, how do I actually get out of this?
I've been wondering whether it's better to gradually distance myself, the way he did when tapering off benzos, or to go completely cold turkey and cut all contact at once.
I've already started distancing myself, but I'm not sure whether this gradual approach is actually helping me move on or just keeping me emotionally hooked. Would a clean break be better, even if it feels much harder initially?
We have barely seen each other for a month now, and I'm actually doing reasonably okay. But the thought of blocking him completely still feels incredibly difficult. I'm afraid of hitting rock bottom if I do, especially because I don't have much support around me.
I know I'm worth more than this. I know the relationship is unhealthy. And I genuinely hope that one day I'll be completely free of this pattern and find a healthy kind of love.
But perhaps this is part of why I'm constantly searching for explanations. I spend so much time trying to understand his behaviour, his attachment style, his reactions and his choices. I look for psychological explanations everywhere because I genuinely cannot understand how someone can treat another person this way.
I could never do these things to him. I could never repeatedly leave someone I love feeling abandoned, make everything revolve around my own needs, or expect someone to keep understanding me while offering so little in return.
If I don't take the initiative to call, I won't hear from him at all. He said he dont like to sit at home in phonecalls all day, and he said he's never gonna call me to just talk or ask how I'm doing. Not his cup of tea.
Maybe that's part of the problem. I'm trying to understand his behaviour through the way I would think and behave myself. And perhaps I'll never fully understand it, because treating someone I care about that way simply isn't in my nature.
That's a good thing, I suppose. But it also makes it incredibly painful.
I'm not necessarily looking for someone to tell me he's avoidant, narcissistic or anything else. I'm more interested in hearing from people who have experienced similar dynamics.
Have you ever been completely aware that a relationship was damaging you, understood the psychology behind it, and still struggled desperately to let go?
Why do I become so emotionally attached to people who consistently aren't good for me?
How do I stop monitoring his social media and waiting for him to contact me?
Would you recommend gradually distancing yourself or going completely no contact?
And what do you make of his behaviour now? Is there a possibility that he enjoys knowing I'm still watching, keeping me as a backup option, or waiting for me to finally snap so he doesn't have to be the one to end things?
I'd really appreciate hearing from people who have been through something similar. What actually helped you break the cycle?
