It's coming down

I saw my girlfriend this weekend. The visit got off to a rocky start when she mentioned that her friend would get upset with her since she wouldn't be breaking up with me this weekend. (And her friend is now on my list) She did a lot of venting, some of which made sense, some of it sounded like mood swings.
I hate being vague. I fucking hate it, but right now there are too many issues I need to protect, and I can't jeopardize their outcome because of a public blog.

She blames me for a lot of things these days. For moving out, for not knowing when she wanted my support (clue: it helps to state it outright), and for not being around more in a physical sense too. If it wasn't for the sexual assault you'd think I was an emotional clod and she was manipulating me.

I don't know if I'd mentioned this, but one--well, the major one, other than economic hardship--but the stress had become unbearable. Her mood swings were growing worse and I was afraid, genuinely afraid, that I'd hit her. I finally told her this a few weeks ago this was why I moved back home. I was afraid to tell her. I didn't know how'd she take it; it was an X-factor at a time when Xs were fucking like rabbits, little x's were everywhere, and capital Xs were stampeding through my door on a daily basis.

What would you do? The anonymous blogger asked his nonexistent readership. She thinks moving out was the wrong choice, but I'd rather move out and have her break up with me, than hit her. (That, btw, I didn't tell her) Is that love? Is that sacrifice? Or merely a klutzy decision by someone who should know better?

...And at the bottom of it all, no matter what she says or blames me for, I think what she is really doing is blaming me for the rape, and I don't think I will ever be able to convince her otherwise.