Mornin',
I guess I find myself torn this morning between writing an email to my wife that I'll never send, or sending a post out into the void on a board like this. The truth is, I'm well aware of what's happening. I've read 4 books at this point: Walking on Eggshells, In Sheep's Clothing, etc. . . I understand the psychology of the disorder, I can identify the manipulation tactics, the splitting, all that. I've gone above and beyond to be validating, to try to encourage the identification of emotions and the describing of real issues, just like I do as a good parent with my daughter and a performance psychologist with my clients at work. I've absorbed as much as I can, and I've been able to practically apply most of the skills. Our arguments are minimal and over relatively quickly, even if there is a residual tension and awkwardness that lingers for anywhere from an hour to a couple days. I no longer feel awful about myself or stare into the mirror wondering how I could possibly have been such a mess for 35 years and never realized it. So, now I'm starting to just check out.
My relationship sucks. I am in a constant struggle to set boundaries with regard to interacting with my family and doing things I need to do to take care of myself. I'm a responsible man, and ever-present. Most of my friends have drifted off over the years, and I don't do anything but go to work and go home, so as sad as that is, at least there isn't that fight to be fought (though I'm sure my lack of social support is a result of my relationship with my wife). It is NOT what I have experienced in the past or ever envisioned when I thought of connecting and sharing my life with someone. If it wasn't for my daughter, I would not be with this woman. Our life is awesome, but she finds something terrible about everything. For the last 6 years, I've bent over backwards to address all of her complaints, but I'm well aware now that the environment we've created together will never fix the fears of abandonment that lead to an irrational mistrust, or the projecting of a terrible self-image and a cyclone of negative emotions onto me. I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do. I feel as though I've gone through the 5 stages of grief, essentially coping with the loss of the person I thought she was and want her to be. I'm at the acceptance stage, and fully acknowledge that I will be the person that takes all of her worst and rarely gets her best. We have a kitten, a dog, a daughter; they're all wonderful, and she is wonderful with them. She shows them support, compassion, affection. . . all things that I don't get to experience from her. People on this board have discussed there being an ebb and flow, times of extreme emotional abuse followed by an extreme effort to make up for it. I don't get that. There's anger, and there's neutral. She's never happy, which I think has started to wear on my daughter as it always has me, and when she's upset, she's terribly upset. I'm exhausted from constantly trying to encourage her to do things she likes, and beat down by endlessly taking 100% responsibility for a relationship that includes 2 people.
At the end of the day, I just feel done. I feel as though I've been remanded into custody and am facing a life sentence. How am I supposed to be okay knowing my relationship with the most important person in my life will never be fulfilling? That it will just take, and take, and take, and never give?
She asked me on a date night a few weeks ago if I thought I made her a better person. . . this following my remarking that her presence in my life had pushed me to behave more altruistically, that I had become more compassionate, and developed more patience. Her implication was that I was nothing but a negative presence in her life. She said I'd taken everything from her, that she had lost so much of herself. . . I was beyond perplexed, and floored. I managed it well I thought, acknowledged that I wasn't perfect, but tactfully pointed out how she had been afforded opportunities to flourish. A couple days ago, she again lost it over an attempt of mine to be playful, she's on a new kick about people saying they're joking to justify saying things that piss her off. . . my daughter, me, her boss. . . it seems like when you realize everyone's attempt at humor or playfulness is having the opposite effect, you should look in the mirror, but instead she blames the world. She cringes at physical affection, but gets mad when I don't try. What the f#$k am I supposed to do? Shoulder it? Resign myself to a life of constant toil to no avail? Am I Sisyphus? When I don't make an effort to connect, share in vulnerability, things don't get better, but they don't get worse; when I do try, I'm met with rejection, cynicism, and just a great deal of pain. I have all the information, I've tried so many things, and I have no way forward. It's crushing me, and all I want to do is tell her what I know is going on, even though her warped mind isn't capable of processing it.
