Today is a better day

[rollercoaster24]

Hi all,

Originally I used to predominantly post on the staying or unsure boards, and then not post for ages, or visit, because mostly life with BP was one drama after another, so I did not have any time to think/process properly.

Then, after so long with no validation for myself, I would be in need of validation for my own feelings, so I would come here whenever I could, sometimes obsessively. I did try to do this, to save my immediate family/friends from having to hear it all again, as I am certain they should be well sick of it by now.

My posts are always long, and often, I will be reading someone else's and reply, but then find I have gone on so long, I just hit delete and leave it, feeling selfish that mine are so drawn out.

This week has been the very worst for me, in a series of worst. I have decided to break away from him, even though I really don't want to let him go, and I will be cursed for abandoning him, but I figure he has punished me for three years now, so the minute I try to make it up to him, and jump through some more hoops, he will just keep creating new ones, with plenty more excuses to boot.

In making a self inventory of my participation in the downfall, I can see my misguided actions. These are some of the positives first.

I lessened contact with my friends, in the hope that he would come to feel more secure in his relationship with me.

(He said he needed it to be about just him and I for a while, as he was already shell shocked when he met me). I handed this to him on a plate, and then he changed the rules, and continued to moan about being bored and lonely.

I said I could not stop working to give him more time, unless he was prepared to commit to finding work himself. Unemployment or part-time work just wasn't an option for me in this country, or in reality it isn't often for anyone. Given I was providing all the necessities of life, how could he have expected me to?

I tried to encourage him to follow his own interests, and gave plenty of positive encouragement/participation whenever I could. (all I got was verbal abuse for not being 'supportive enough' or caring enough about his interests, yet he ignored all of mine because he did not approve).

I tried not to push him, into doing the things he needed to do for himself and his own needs. [Things like, finding somewhere else to live,/looking after his own health better, eating and not starving himself, easing himself back into part-time work after he had first addressed all the things he said he needed to find work. (he complained and moaned every day about all the same old things, but addressed very little, except working on his mechanical projects to make extra cash, which he would then blow and go back to complaining again).

I tried to respect his decisions, even when they always affected me more adversely than him.

(he had the opportunity to sit down in a casual meeting at my house, and resolve his differences with my daughter and her partner, they requested he try several times) he refused every single time, and then would punish me eternally because we did not live together anymore. So I paid in every way consistently, but he did all the complaining about how hard it was every day to live with his nasty abusive parents! Funny, he used to complain to his parents about how nasty and abusive it was here too!

I tried to do all the things only I could control, when it came to responsibility for myself and my own choices.

I tried to eat well, and sleep well, and look after my own needs first. I went to see my GP and got check-ups, I went and sought out counselling, and read as much as I could on coping mechanisms, I exercised, I preformed my job, I looked after my family/friends, and I tried to be as consistently supportive to his illness as I could.

I did eat well, but found I was eating the wrong things, but kept applying effort, so my weight would fluctuate.

I set limits on the time I spent listening to BP's rants/projections/episodes.

Either way I did it, I still got regularly abused every week, without fail, and told to F*** off. I simply was not allowed to express any criticisms or present him with the truths of what he was consistently complaining about. So, I simply gave up.

I stopped going to see him, going from several days per week, down to almost one, over the last year.

Over the three years, I kept a journal, and wrote in it as often as I could, here I could express my anger, and emotions and not feel judged for having them.

I protected myself and other's safety, by telling him less and less, but not making it obvious. I did not make myself feel guilty withholding the truth, if it meant protecting others privacy and my own.

I often put up with lies and double standards, but kept my life as simple as I could, not inviting any 'male friends' into my life, and keeping to myself for a while.

I did not go out and drink or take drugs, or spend excessively. I often looked for little gifts to take when I would visit BP, and never went empty handed to his parents whilst doing so. I observed all his families birthdays/Christmas, even when I had never met some of them.

I maintained a good relationship with his parents, but had no control over their dysfunction. When BP was raging at them, I stuck up for them, even if it meant I would be painted black too. I refused to stand back and allow him to verbally abuse them in my presence, not once did they do this for me.

They merely made him feel guilty for using their phone, but were not consistent with their own boundaries.

I consistently supported BP every week when listening to his stories about how expensive everything was, and how his little money just did not last. Basically, through abuse, and lying and the suspicion he may well be using drugs, I never let him down in my support of what he said he was doing. I tried to believe in him, and wanted to believe in his protestations on life.

Now and again, I would ask questions about what he had done with his money that week, I would always be treated badly for asking, or abused. Even after just depositing money for 'food' into his account.

When I asked questions as to his whereabouts, I would be roughly treated, yet he never ceased to make assumptions about my life.

I was made to feel guilty for asking, and got handed an eternal plate of excuses for every single bad thing he did.

It never seemed to register that he was hurting me every day, nor did he care.

The biggest mistake I made, was not avoiding him full stop, because then, I would not have been intermittently reinforcing his horrible behaviour when he finally poked this poor dog too long and it came out fighting for its life.

And now, I can no longer live with the fear of constant abuse, provocations, antagonisms, rage, evilness, and hard heartedness.

I choose love, it feels great, and I am going to start giving it to myself.

I will leave him with his demons, I hope they eat him alive.