An emotional dump from a very private man

This is my first ever Reddit post, but feeling like I need to put this out there. I’m a 35 year old male, I have a great job, a solid career and good health. About 5 years ago my fiancé of 8 years broke up with me, there was no foul play, she found herself in her own midlife/career crisis and needed to spend time alone to figure her own shit out. It was mostly amicable with the exception of some tough conversations. We had to sell our home that we had purchased only 3 years prior, all of which took place spring 2020 as the entire world was shutting down. At the same time as dealing with a break up, selling a home and moving, I was forced into isolation and was working 60hour weeks in the medical field.

The first 6 months were mostly okay, I was focused a lot on eating right and working out. I felt good about seeing progress, and I had made a good chunk of cash from the sale of the home. My plan was to take a couple of years to settle into a new life, then perhaps get out into the dating scene. That’s not what happened. 5 months after selling the home and moving out, I made the mistake of curiously setting up a tinder “just to see what it’s all about”. I was isolated and lonely, and also curious about dating. I matched with several people, chatted with a couple, and went out to meet one for drinks. The first date was a blast, tons of fun and an instant connection. I knew it was too soon, and I knew it wasn’t healthy, but it was fun and exciting so I leaned in. One date turned to many more, which then turned into a relationship, and in less than two years from my break up I was moving in with this person. I thought I had hit the jackpot, I had found such a great person so easily and quickly. Well, I was wrong.

Shortly after moving in I discovered this person had been sleeping around behind my back, and hiding a cocaine and crystal meth habit the whole time. I literally found the stash multiple times. When confronted I got one sob story after another and a promise to stop, mixed in with a ton of gaslighting and angry reactions including physical aggression. Needless to say, after living there for a year and wishfully hoping it would get better, it didn’t, and I was moving out again in less than a year. I had also blown all my savings when with this person, which was totally ny responsibility, but found my self in a position of living paycheck to paycheck.

So here I go again, moving into a new apartment, starting over again and dealing with a highly toxic break up. I was always a casual week smoker, but weed became my crutch, I was smoking every day, sometimes before and after work. I had for the first time in my life major episodes of depression and anxiety, intermittent moments of panic, and a total loss of self control. I stopped working out, gained weight and was eating trash food constantly. I started isolating from friends and family, and all I wanted was to be home alone with weed and food.

Here I am, two years later, and still doing the same thing. I feel so stuck, I’ve tried so many times to pull myself together, every Monday I promise myself a fresh start but the urge to smoke is so hard to resist, and I still have tons of anxiety about being in debt, and days of feeling like the whole thing is pointless. I had suicidal thoughts for the first time in my life which has been terrifying, but I know I will never do that, because I can’t stand the thought of how much pain it would cause others. I beat myself up for getting into this position, and I’m totally aware that I am lucky in many ways, good health, great friends/family, good career, a home to live in etc.

Anyway, apologies for the novel, it’s been a busy five years for me. Literally nobody knows my struggle, I mask it all and make sure nobody sees how bad things are. I have always been an incredibly private person emotionally, hence the emotional dump here. I am hanging onto hope that one day soon I’ll find the strength and discipline to get my shit together. If you took a minute to read this, thank you.