Extremely volatile made worse by pregnancy and circumstance.

[AnxiosSteve]

I'm a 36 y/o man married to a 36 y/o woman.  We've been together for 13 years.

We both have some psychological problems, although I'm not exactly sure what.  I've not been properly diagnosed, perhaps.  She has until this week been resistant to treatment of any kind.  She has agreed to relationship counseling, and while I have an open mind, I'm skeptical.

I don't know how to keep this short, but I'll try to be as concise as possible.

We met shortly after I had graduated HS.  I'm a 1.5 generation American who grew up in an ethnic neighborhood in an urban area, but was fortunate enough to attend most of grade school and university in good schools in affluent areas.  My family has deep roots of western Europe.  My father is first generation, my mother immigrated.  We still have deep roots to in country and the culture.

I'm a Psychology major, with a focus in Abnormal Psychology, though I work in IT, where I own a moderately successful business.

My wife was born in eastern Europe, and came to this country as an au pair after university.  Her major was history, but when she came here she switched to a student visa and got degrees in Finance and Management over here.

She says her childhood was happy, but I know she bears a lot of resentment to her father, as do her mother and brother.  He is an alcoholic who went to "work abroad" (likely a pseudo-divorce) when she was young.  She at first lived with the host parents, and spent a good amount of time at my apartment with her friends.  When her host father remarried, and as the children got older, she was no longer needed, and was very unceremoniously let go after several years.

At this point she moved in with me, and as I was in the process of getting my own place, so she moved there with me too.  We've lived together since.

The "original sin" in our relationship, is how we got married.  I feel that I was tricked because she told me she was a rape victim per her to excuse her inexperience with relationships (she grew up much more conservatively than I did, and behaved as such until she met me).

Meanwhile, she feels like I married her the wrong way, and to be fair I did.  Her visa was expiring after six years.  I was less mature than I am today.  I was not ready for commitment, but mostly, while I felt that she was in almost all ways the total package, there were some key differences, and a dark side.  Ultimately, I could just not bring myself to leave her, I did and do love her, and I realize that is selfish in some respects.  At

It is impossible to have such a volatile relationship and not have resentments for the past on both sides, but I feel like perhaps hers are stronger, and this is why perhaps she has such a problem controlling her anger.  There is a cruel and putative side to her when she is angry.  Another way to describe it would be "abusive", although this side came out more in recent years, and it has escalated in the past month or so.  More on that later.

Meanwhile, I myself have myriad faults.  I don't help around the house enough.  I can be stubborn.  I can be selfish with my time.  I really don't want to make this sound as if it is all about her.  Perhaps the worst thing I did was not fully commit to the relationship.  For years I just assumed it had to end.  Once I left, but she convinced me to come back when she made a mistake of some ambiguous nature, and was genuinely traumatized.

The lead up to that temporary break up is also very pertinent to where we are now.

A couple of years into living together full time, in late 2007, I started to get some troubling neurological symptoms.  Essentially I would twitch, all over my body, several times a minute.  As I mentioned, I studied psychology, and I knew about the dangers of self-diagnosis, and cyberchondria.  I knew what somatization is, and the works.  I was aware of all of this at the time.

Perhaps because I was in a psychological state for reasons inside and outside of my control.  There is also the component of relative worry.  If you're told there's a 75% chance your team wins the game, you may feel comfortable with that, but a 0.75% chance of a plane crash can make for a pretty uncomfortable flight.  That flight became my life for two years, and it was perhaps my darkest period to date.

At the point I had been a pretty consistent marijuana smoker, and now smoking made matters worse.  I understand that some people use it for anxiety, but it is not an anxiolytic.  Very much unlike alcohol.  I still remember when I had a drink and realized it was a great temporary solution.

As I was never much of a drinker, I was irreverent about it.  I could not have an alcohol problem.  I could have more than 4 in a sitting.  I could make myself feel great, because I missed that and deserved it.  As the hangovers got worse, I could drink during the day.  I'm self-employed, I can drink at work, etc.  I became a very heavy drinker.

At first, this was not much of a problem in our relationship.  For years I had barely drank at all.  Sure, when I did I would often binge drink and whoop it up, beer pong being a common theme, but I preferred a joint an a movie, especially once I met my wife, and began spending nearly all of my free time with her.  She was never much of a drinker, though she did have some social life then.

Fortunately, I'm not a mean drunk.

With that, I started going out, having friends outside of my marriage.  I was always faithful, but there is of course something inappropriate about the sum total of my behavior.

On the medical side, I began seeing a psychiatrist.  I wanted to believe there was something wrong with my head, and on some level there certainly was, because the alternative is unthinkable.

I met an interesting and unorthodox psychiatrist.  At first he suggested the standard paxil and benzo.  I was fine with the benzo, but I didn't want to take ADs.  He gave me everything else off-label, from low dose quietapine, to propanalol (the beta blocker, not to be confused with what MJ OD'ed on).  At first he thought I might be depressed, then perhaps BPD.  I've been to two p-dopcs in my life, probably 15 times in total, never got a clear diagnosis.

After a year I got fed up.  He didn't seem to be helping.  I know I'm just a laymen, but a little to 'inventive' perhaps.  I just learned to begrudgingly accept the twitches and drink.

I've never had a manic period however.  I would definitely describe myself as hypomanic.

A year later the symptoms seemed to be getting worse, so I went back to my neurologist (2nd time), and this time demanded some reassurance in the form of an EMG.  It is typical to not want to reassure patients who seem to have health anxiety, and I understand that, but I felt that it would 'put it to bed' for me, once and for all.

And it did, instantly.  I have not worried about it since.  The twitches went away after a few more years, except for one that persists in my inner-left ear.

But I did not want to smoke marijuana anymore, it really isn't all that much fun by comparison to what could in some respects be described as a good binge drink with friends or alone.  So I kept drinking.  With time this began to take a toll on our relationship.  Fortunately, I'm a nice drunk, but all drunks are undignified and can be annoying.  No spouse wants to see that.

I had built a wall around my drinking to protect it.  I told myself I could cut down, and I could, but I was a daily drinker still, and all it took was a weekend binge for the hangovers and withdrawals to start to kick in, and the process to start over.

This came to a head when I went to go visit her family, with my parents, for her brothers wedding.  Still irreverent but knowing I had self-control problems, on day 2 I was thrust into an eastern European wedding.  These are people that start drinking room temperature vodka, at 3PM, right after church, having not eaten since 7AM when the day started.  Vodka is a huge part of their culture.

My wife and I are both worried about impressions.  She drank very little, or perhaps 'just enough'.  I was giving more-than-token resistance to the shots being poured (theirs are smaller, but more frequent), insisting on having less than others.  My parents were there as well as hers and her extended family. 

I was proud of myself, people wanted to dance with me, to a person seemed to love me, by the end (6AM, almost 24 hours) it was all the party animals and whoever was young enough to make it that far in both families, plus the groom.  It was a scene.  People sleeping on the floor and walking like zombies.

All that said I did over drink, and in the taxi-van home I committed what I found out later to be the cardinal sin:  I drank from the bottle they were passing around in the taxi.  There were not enough glasses.  Obviously, that doesn't look good to my wife, or her mom, and she was pissed.

But my wife does not get 'just pissed'.  She had what we call a Category 5 as soon as we were alone together.  To this day, she will say she didn't 'do anything', but it is very easily to antagonize a drunk person, and she did that, as she has done many times since.  The fight ensued, and I was furious and outraged.  How could she be doing this to us when I was so happy, and all her friends and family seemed to love me.  Our fight was terrible.  I wanted to leave, but her grandmother calmly asked me not to.  Eventually, in a bad decision, in private I asked her to beg me to stay, which she did to keep up appearances.  I was so hurt and outraged, not because of what she said, but because she could just not let me sleep without ruining my joy.  It is a common theme.

Then we had 'the second wedding', the next day, with the left over food, the close family, the vodka, my hangover, and my trauma from what was one of the worst days of my life.  Again, I controlled myself well, made sure to drink less than all my male peers, but of course, that is still over drinking.

Stupidly, when we got home (we were sleeping in different rooms), I wanted to talk to her and get along, and salvage the vacation, but she was still hurt, and did not care that I drank less.  I still drank too much.

The rest of the vacation ranged from poor to hellish at times.  Her brother and sister missed much of this, but were kind to me and seemed to feel pity.  Her mother took her side, and on another occasion when I again over drank, assisted her daughter in antagonizing me.  We did not truly get along, and to make matters worse, we had to sleep in the same bed.  We still don't but at the time I snored, having been overweight.  More awful fights.

When we got home, I was determined to make a change.  Even though I thought she was unfair, I knew then I really needed to change my relationship with alcohol or quit.  With the help of a couple of pills, and starting marijuana again, it actually worked.  I am probably the exception in this regard, but I went from consuming over a liter of vodka on some days, to weeks at a time without having a drop.  I can still just stop drinking, where as before I would drink to the point of being sloshed and passing out, though it is difficult not to have one or two more than I should some times.

Sometimes I still overdrink without intending to, but mostly I go in expecting to have a a few cocktails with friends, and more than the 4 units in a sitting recommended, without being absurd.

In the subsequent few years since, the fights about alcohol did not really change.  If I seemed t0o drunk, she would get angry, but I could avoid her unless I poor decisions made me think we could get along.  When she gets angry, I must get angry.  No amount of "baby I love yous" or "I'm sorrys" can help.  But that is true of everything.  I lost the weight, but I can still breath to loud when I sleep.  If she's less than thrilled with me, that's enough for a 6AM fight, and then for whatever reason either I don't snore, or she finds mercy.  If we are late to an event, or late in the season we get the Christmas tree, or if there is any transgression, perceived or real, or any headwind that can be nearly rationally blamed on me.  It is difficult, and somehow we have totally normalized this.

I went into such detail about the wedding story, not only because it was perhaps our lowest moment, but to bookend it with what is the new perhaps lowest moment.

We are getting older, and I love her, so I want to have a child.  Again, perhaps stupidly and immaturely, in the context of the relationship I described.  My wife can have a very strong personality, can be very negative, can have strong opinions and criticisms.  By this time in our life, she really has no one left.  She had one close friend, similarly peculiar in ways, but her visa expired, and she went away.  She has no one now that she goes out with.

I noticed that she was really antagonizing me when I drank.  In the month leading up to Thanksgiving, the first time I went out we fought terribly, despite me being relatively sober.  Then on election day, I had a couple too many, came home and stopped drinking, and it happened again.  Politics matter to me, and she knows this.  After that fight I was hurt again.  She did not and does not apologize, but the next morning she said we should start over, which is an indicator she is sorry.  I started telling her that I was becoming concerned.

She has never really moved toward me in the relationship.  She seems to become more dogmatic and traditional by the day.  She does not really believe in modern values and ideas when it comes to many things.  There is a lot of 'Catholic Guilt' going on, and since her friend has left there quickly seemed to be a very rapid and very very predictable and catastrophic turn in what is the 'new normal'.  The last time I had 3 drinks, but my stomach was empty, and I probably should have had too.  I'm a big guy.  I was far from drunk.

I asked her to set a rule:  I told her, as neither of us want me to be 'that abstinent guy', would she allow me to go out with friends up to one day per week, and have a few drinks, even be a little tipsy, as long as I am responsible, come home relatively early, and stop drinking, as per usual.  She said she would.  I told her that I knew her, I saw where this was going.  One she gets something in her head, that is it.  She does not move toward me.  I move toward her, she moves two steps away.  She said to give her a chance.

The next week I did not.  I went to a different bed, and made sure to stay out late enough for her to be asleep.  The next day she got a positive pregnancy test, and came to show me.  One of the reasons I did not attempt to sleep in the same bed was because I was giving her the cold shoulder for some cruel behavior, unrelated to this, and also typical of her, and normalized, but I instantly forgot it.

I was thrilled.  I was investing in my business, life was quickly becoming amazing, and I was excited for us.  It was short lived.  On Thanksgiving -- although I was not thinking about it -- one week since the last time I'd gone anywhere, I was not drinking, but at dinner I told her, I'm going to have a couple today and 'catch a buzz'.  It was in front of people, so we had a mock "oh-no" "oh-yes".

I drank more than the four units recommended, perhaps six or seven over as many hours, and we went home at 9.  As soon as we got in the car, her disposition changed.  I begged her "you promised me!", but it's always useless.  When we got home, I was not gonna stay for it, so I started to go to my friend's bar.  It was closed.  I could have gone somewhere else, but I had cooled off.  I was still a bit inebriated and made another bad decision:  I went back home.  All she could focus on was that the bar was closed or I would not have.

Like her brother's wedding, I was outraged.  But also a terrible realization had come over to me:  nothing is or can ever be more sacred than this girl's anger. 

I was devastated but it is never enough.  Eventually, and stupidly again, I asked her to just hit me and get it over with, and not for the first time, she did, but it was definitely the most, open hands to both sides of the face.  This served to get me more pissed, but it was not enough.  I did not want drink more, so I started to roll a joint, she grabbed it and took it to the toilette.  I snatched it away and when she came at me I lifted my arm and got her with my elbow, she falls into the tub.

TBC... .

[PLEASE - NO RUN MESSAGES]

PLEASE - NO RUN MESSAGES This is a high level discussion board for solving ongoing, day-to-day relationship conflicts. Members may appear frustrated but they are here for constructive solutions to problems. This is not a place for relationship "stay" or "leave" discussions. Please read the specific guidelines for this group.

[AnxiosSteve]

She said she separated her shoulder and broke a few ribs, as per her account of her visit to the clinic.  Having had similar injuries, I know they take weeks to heal, and are excruciating.  She was able to flail around like a crazed person within 48 hours, and probably could have the next day if she had any excuse.

We had a good long talk.  I told her that I predicted this, and it is terrible.  That we sullied what should have been a great week and great day, again, as always careful to talk in terms of 'we' with well chosen words to avoid another blow up.  But like her brother's wedding, I'm miserable again, and she does not really accept (at least to me) that she did anything wrong.

But this time, I really have no hope for us.  I've committed to not letting this become the 'new normal' since then, with zero success.  Talks about our relationship devolve into fights whenever the subject of her anger, possible depression, cruel and abusive tendencies come up.

We don't have a framework for talking about her, but this is crunch time, and if she's not gonna talk about it to me, I'm really gonna start thinking about it.

Nothing is more sacred than this girl's anger.  Not our relationship, not our health, not our work, not our unborn child.

She builds a wall around it and protects it like alcoholics do of their sacred right to drink.  She demands personal responsibility of me, and self-control, but is able to excuse anything and everything with "because you drank".  Any talk of her rage, is a non starter.  It's just normal.  The best I ever get is "you make me crazy".

She must punish me like a mother, while having no control of her emotions, like a little girl, it has always been that way.  There is no such thing as too far.

In part to spite her, and in part because I am making a stand, in part because I am miserable and deserve to be happy, in part to spite her, after our subsequent fight, I had a few drinks during lunch and at night.  We fought.  The next day I did not drink.  We fought.  Friday, I had a cousin and his wife over, good kids, and we watched a movie too loudly.  We split a six pack between the three of us over 6 hours.  She went to be early, as usual, and as soon as snored at 6AM, we had to have it out.  Then she let me sleep.  Like when I'm drunk, it's easier to provoke and abuse me when she can wake me up rudely, possibly by asphyxiating me.  When I'm sober and awake, it is just to hard for her, so she chooses her moments.  If people are around, they will defend me, so she waits until we are alone.

Saturday, I found myself drinking at lunch, and I had more than one or two too many.  I paid the tab and left, and went straight home to sober up.  I began watching TV and fell asleep in an awkward position.  She took a picture of me, began screaming, while I just thanked her for continuing the pain in a soft and ironic voice, at which point she took the dog and left.  I suspect she is normalizing this behavior for my child, and documenting my transgressions to justify everything and everything.

To make matters worse, she went to my parents house and made me out to be a monster.  They know me, and they know who I am, they know they are not that, but they are concerned about my drinking, which is fair, as they should be.  A lot of people in my family have struggled with sauce, tho from the last three generations all have overcome it and become able to drink socially, if perhaps not always perfectly.

I am not going to assume no responsibility.  It has not all been perfect.  Once over the summer I stayed down the shore for an extended period of time, and I drank every day to to excess.  I never got drunk, but I surprised myself by getting the shakes on the way home.  My hangover response is still very fickle, and I'm not sure it will ever improve.  Also, I had been taking mild anticonvulsant at night to help me sleep (gabapentin, and according to my p-doc, relax me, which they might), and I discontinued it by not bringing it back with me, which you are not supposed to do, and I'm sure did not help.  I was worried about driving so she came to pick me up.  She was not happy.

I'm going to my p-doc and asking her if she still thinks I need BP meds.  Last time I saw her, she said she was not sure if I was BP.  I feel like I need to try something, anything, just to try something.  I've never felt depressed, with the possible exception of a brief period in high school, and I can't recall having manic thoughts at any point, but I'm desperate.  I'm going to go back to the gym, in order to have a means of getting out of the house.

She has agreed to relationship counseling, but she has made it clear that she is only going because I need it, and she already knows "who's worse."

I have no hope for us.  I could really use some advice.

[AnxiousSteve]

Firstly, let me apologize for not proof reading OP, better.  I was rushing to get it out before she got home, and did not realize I would only be able to edit it for so long.

Last night I made the mistake of trying to talk to her, after suggesting strongly that we not for a while, at first.

Predictably, it devolved into an emotional train wreck.

One major new development that came out of it is that I realized our unborn child is already weaponized.  She went from taking the child back to the old country, to terminating, to giving me the child and the dog, in the span of 15.

It was selfish of me to try.  I may have studied abnormal psych, as undergrad and since, but I am no therapist.  It was always bound for disaster.

Then I found this article:  www.BPDcentral.com/blog/?How-I-Got-My-Wife-Into-Treatment-45

This is my life.

I've been doing some research.  Some might say I've been doing it hypomaniacally.

I'll keep looking for therapists today.

[AnxiousSteve]

I thought this was a bi-polar forum, which is why I wrote OP somewhat from the perspective of my possible issues with hypomania and substance use/abuse  :|

It's not that it isn't pertinent, of course they are, but I would have written it differently after what I may think be a eureka moment.

The thought that my wife could be borderline did not occur to me until I started researching when she fell asleep.  We've been focused on me forever, that's normal, and she's succeeded in not really having the focus on her possible mental issues.

Those are just a non-starter.  In the past, just mentioning therapy or ADs because she may be depressed would trigger a "cat 5".

In some sense it gives me hope that I have something more than "anger issues" to go on.  OTOH, I see right in front of me why this will be resistant to treatment.

I don't want to sound like I'm diagnosing her, and I'm careful top avoid all the "manosphere-type" stuff, but -- unlike what I read about NPD -- the stuff on BPD sounds very much like us, including what's in the DSM.

[AnxiousSteve]

Therapist in screening phase, expecting call back tomorrow.  Wife was upset I choose one unilaterally.  I kept calm and said that this was the only one local.  The next one is 90 miles away.  She said that our plan does not cover, which may be true, but I'm not sure if it is a manipulation.

I told her, even if it is not covered, we must go, because we don't have any more time, and since it is so difficult to make a decision together, and this is in the town we me, let's just chalk it up to a fair and random choice.  Then I made it clear that we are going to get separated if we don't change a few fundamental things about this relationship.  I really stressed this every time the temperature seemed to rise.

Essentially, I'm manipulating her fear of abandonment, or at least it's is one way of looking at it.  Another way of looking at it, is that I have to know and believe that to be true as well.  It just is.  I've done it before, I can do it again.  Granted my self-esteemed wasn't quite so damaged at that point, but that just means it's up to

I know this new "tool" for having a conversation about "us" is not a permanent solution.  That's just another type of volatile relationship.  But it's good enough to be a bridge to therapy.  Harm reduction.

It's maybe why we had a night of peace.  Also, I abandoned the use of the word "you".  That was important.  She noticed it, and she knows I am researching this stuff.  My semi-relevant undergrad education of years ago may officially have no value in this relationship (or at least I allowed it not to), but unofficially she knows I'm not a dummy, and when I set my mind to learning about something I generally I do.  I think she is worried, which is keeping her anger at bay.

After a while, she started complaining about morning sickness to bait me into sympathy.  I didn't want to continue to be cold in this circumstance.  I think she really has it.  I sat down next to her on the couch for a while and asked if there was anything I could do.  I may have, with good intentions, touched on a small trigger at some point.  I noticed her mood began to darken, so instead of trying to fix it, I just told her I was going to watch TV in the other room and go to bed, which is where I'm at now.

But all this responsibility and accountability stuff cuts both ways, and unlike her I should know better.

If I say that I'm hitting the sauce because she made me mad, I'm still excusing my behavior.  If I'm drinking wine with lunch in front of her just to antagonize her, that's childish (btw, that is otherwise normal in our culture, I'm talking about lunch with the grandparents and brother, not at drinking hole, but it's childish to do it in front of her just to antagonize her).  If I'm drinking because I'm sad, then that's a pathological coping mechanism.  If I really deserve to have a social life, however frequently, then I should behave myself all the time.  I know life is hard, but it's not like I'm a POW... . in every respect

And frankly, if she is in a fragile state, and if I really love her, then I have to give up being impaired around her.  It just won't work.  Nothing good can come of it.

This is very much a crash course, and I've been evaluating all of my relationships.  Starting with her.  There is something to be said for the fact that I do make her crazy.  I can be a jerk when people upset me too.  Not in the same way, with name calling and histrionics, but just with pointed and snarky statements stated in a calm voice.  And then eventually I can blow up too.  It's hard, but not that hard, to get me there.  I have to make it much harder.

Also, she isn't as bad as I was thinking this morning.  My own perception was still clouded by my foul mood.  With her last real friend moving away at the same time she found out we are pregnant, if she really does have BPD symptoms, then I should have been aware by now, given my background, that we were entering a danger zone.

In away I was.  As I mentioned, I told her weeks prior to the blowup that I noticed a change in her disposition that was scary, and I was really scared for us if I was correct.  But I didn't make the leap -- ironically and to my discredit --  to anything beyond "anger issues", and "possible depression, maybe just due to our marriage, which should improve at any time".

So that gives me some hope.  And she's not that bad.  She just needs a little self-awareness, and a little accountability, and since I have no great need to be apologized to, that should make things easier.  

Hope springs eternal.

[AnxiousSteve]

P.S.  I know this is a bit of a long monologue, but it's helpful for me.  Though my OP may not show it, I'm comfortable with the format, and coherent when not trying to write my life's story under duress, .

It makes me feel like I'm doing something, rather than just wallowing.

Maybe someone else will see something in there that speaks to them.  I wish I could still edit OP, now that I know this is not a bipolar forum, I'm sure there's a reason this is disabled.