A perspective from 24 years married to a pwbpd, 20 of them unhappily: there has been no improvement in their ability to recognize my emotions or even that there is anything other than theirs.
The self-centeredness and selfishness are mind boggling. Those often look like “I did this thing for you!” when you didn’t want that thing and they never even asked, and they are so the victim when you say that. The emotional maturity is less than a toddler - it’s nonexistent. There has been no growth, only entrenchment and wasted time.
I stayed because I thought I was protecting our kid, although recently our young adult kid has been diagnosed with a devastating and life-threatening mental health condition and in hindsight I wish I’d left. I thought I could soften or counter the burden of “it’s your job to make me happy”, which is a setup to fail because pwbpd has been depressed and angry and miserable for decades. I did not relieve that burden. All I did was demonstrate a dysfunctional relationship and my own self-loathing for staying.
Today, for the hundredth time, I told my spouse I’m sad and lonely and would like more interaction, conversation, and communication with them. He hides from me because sometimes I say, respectfully and focused on specifics, what I need and what I would like to change. (“I would like to have dinner together sometimes, I feel lonely.” “I would like you to please ask before you move all the things out of my room so you can clean the floor.” To him that is only criticism and his response, as it’s been every time, is “how could you say such mean things to me?!!!” and to hide the rest of the day.
I’m not conflicted, I’m certain that I’m done, and have been for many years. I’m just sad and disappointed in myself for wasting this one wild and precious life in which maybe I could have had a partner and love and laughter and shown my beautiful son those things. I’m just waiting now for 9-12 months for [reason] then I’ll leave, and take the financial devastation of doing that in today’s housing market within a few years of retirement, rather than when US housing was half the cost and mortgage rates were 2% 10 when I first knew I should leave.
Leaving has a cost. Staying has a cost, and for me it’s been enormous. I grieve.




