trying to let go of feeling selfish for wanting my own life

[Before you can make things better, you have to stop making them worse...]

Guys, thank you all for your support, the last few weeks have been hell, but I know it's worth it. The anxiety has been unreal, but I think I just need to keep reminding myself that the reasons I’m leaving are valid and not selfish. I don’t owe him a marriage. I don’t owe him unreasonable support for the rest of his life. He is responsible for his own life, and not me. I am not happy, and I want to leave. That is reason enough. But there are so many more reasons to get out of this. There are so many things I want to do in my life that I just can’t while I’m in this relationship. I want to be single, I want to travel, I want to see the desert, I want to see the national parks. I want to rediscover myself, I want to have boundaries, and I want to only invite people in who are here to respect me.

I watched that video by Kevin Smith who talks about EMDR (here - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JBvc7Ny4iUk), and he talks about his inner child and the experience that set him on the path to creating this larger than life character that could hide the parts of himself that he didn’t like. For me, as I’ve gone through EMDR I’ve realized that moment for myself is vague but still powerful. I was a child, and my mother said something to me that was just so awful and unforgivable, I wish I could remember the words, but it was essentially something about being a worthless daughter (I was probably 6 or 7, so you know, I’m sure it was super valid). It was the first time that I was able to realize that what someone was saying to me was not okay. I ran away from the situation, and told her to leave me alone, which is something that I never would have done before. Running away when you’re being yelled at was never allowed, it would result in punishment. I made it almost to the top of the stairs and she grabbed me before I could get to my room to close the door. I was going to push my dresser against it so she couldn’t get to me, but being 6, short, and scrawny, I’m pretty sure that was not going to happen, but the cartoons and movies made it look easy. But I didn’t make it. I thought I was going to be hit or screamed at, but instead she pulled me into her and was sobbing saying “don’t run away from me, you’re all that I have”. She held me there for what felt like forever, and I was just burning with anger. Anger that I’m the one who should be hurt but I can’t even express that because of what’s happening. But I remember even then thinking “this is fake”, and feeling so trapped by another person’s manipulation/feelings. I didn’t totally understand what was happening, and I don’t remember anything after that, I just knew it wasn't right. But I think in a way there was a part of me that was born that day that helped me deal with people’s negative emotions. It was an angry part, and I think for a long time I have ignored it. It only showed up in extreme situations, and usually when it would be let out, before I knew it, I was screaming at someone for being completely awful to me. Those times have always been justified (for example being cheated on by an ex), but I’m not an angry person who shouts so I’ve always been terrified of that happening. That part of me has always been there saying “hey maybe we shouldn’t be putting up with this”, but it was pushed down so far I barely heard it, so unless it was screaming I didn’t listen. I now see that part as one of my favorite parts of me. I’ve learned almost like the Hulk, that this angry part is necessary and we need to work together. That part is tough, it commands respect, and it keeps me safe. But if I pretend like it doesn’t exist I’m just angry and it’s not helpful, and I can end up spewing molten hot lava-rage on people who may deserve it, but it’s not what I really want. So I’m learning to let this part live with me and go through life with me all the time, and I think that this is why I’m now sitting here ready to tell my husband that I don’t want this anymore. No more fights, no more trying to make him happy to no end, no more waiting for change. I can see now that this is someone with an emotional black hole inside them and I’ll never be able to fix it for them or make them feel whole. That's his job. I’m done with that part of my life, and I’m ready to do me.

[thepixies21]

Guys, thank you all for your support, the last few weeks have been hell, but I know it's worth it. The anxiety has been unreal, but I think I just need to keep reminding myself that the reasons I’m leaving are valid and not selfish. I don’t owe him a marriage. I don’t owe him unreasonable support for the rest of his life. He is responsible for his own life, and not me. I am not happy, and I want to leave. That is reason enough. But there are so many more reasons to get out of this. There are so many things I want to do in my life that I just can’t while I’m in this relationship. I want to be single, I want to travel, I want to see the desert, I want to see the national parks. I want to rediscover myself, I want to have boundaries, and I want to only invite people in who are here to respect me.

I watched that video by Kevin Smith who talks about EMDR (here - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JBvc7Ny4iUk), and he talks about his inner child and the experience that set him on the path to creating this larger than life character that could hide the parts of himself that he didn’t like. For me, as I’ve gone through EMDR I’ve realized that moment for myself is vague but still powerful. I was a child, and my mother said something to me that was just so awful and unforgivable, I wish I could remember the words, but it was essentially something about being a worthless daughter (I was probably 6 or 7, so you know, I’m sure it was super valid). It was the first time that I was able to realize that what someone was saying to me was not okay. I ran away from the situation, and told her to leave me alone, which is something that I never would have done before. Running away when you’re being yelled at was never allowed, it would result in punishment. I made it almost to the top of the stairs and she grabbed me before I could get to my room to close the door. I was going to push my dresser against it so she couldn’t get to me, but being 6, short, and scrawny, I’m pretty sure that was not going to happen, but the cartoons and movies made it look easy. But I didn’t make it. I thought I was going to be hit or screamed at, but instead she pulled me into her and was sobbing saying “don’t run away from me, you’re all that I have”. She held me there for what felt like forever, and I was just burning with anger. Anger that I’m the one who should be hurt but I can’t even express that because of what’s happening. But I remember even then thinking “this is fake”, and feeling so trapped by another person’s manipulation/feelings. I didn’t totally understand what was happening, and I don’t remember anything after that, I just knew it wasn't right. But I think in a way there was a part of me that was born that day that helped me deal with people’s negative emotions. It was an angry part, and I think for a long time I have ignored it. It only showed up in extreme situations, and usually when it would be let out, before I knew it, I was screaming at someone for being completely awful to me. Those times have always been justified (for example being cheated on by an ex), but I’m not an angry person who shouts so I’ve always been terrified of that happening. That part of me has always been there saying “hey maybe we shouldn’t be putting up with this”, but it was pushed down so far I barely heard it, so unless it was screaming I didn’t listen. I now see that part as one of my favorite parts of me. I’ve learned almost like the Hulk, that this angry part is necessary and we need to work together. That part is tough, it commands respect, and it keeps me safe. But if I pretend like it doesn’t exist I’m just angry and it’s not helpful, and I can end up spewing molten hot lava-rage on people who may deserve it, but it’s not what I really want. So I’m learning to let this part live with me and go through life with me all the time, and I think that this is why I’m now sitting here ready to tell my husband that I don’t want this anymore. No more fights, no more trying to make him happy to no end, no more waiting for change. I can see now that this is someone with an emotional black hole inside them and I’ll never be able to fix it for them or make them feel whole. That's his job. I’m done with that part of my life, and I’m ready to do me.

[livednlearned]

I feel so deeply moved and saddened by the story you shared. It's so messed up when adults use kids to get their needs met. The natural order is the opposite way around and it's wonderful that your 6-year-old self knew to feel anger about the way your mother behaved.

In my experience, there is no easy way to work through those selfish feelings. Just like someone with BPD was shaped by early life trauma and will face an uphill road to heal, so do we. Somewhere on these boards I remember reading about repetition compulsion, where we repeat versions of the problem until we successfully resolve it.

These are deeply ingrained patterns.

It's all but guaranteed that you'll experience tremendous guilt and obligation and probably some fear as you go through this. You might fail at your first attempt. And second. You might succeed and get pulled back in again.

However, you have a clear vision for how you want to feel and what you want. That's a powerful motivator. For me, it was giving my son a better life.

If you think it will be very tough to do this, start breaking your concerns down into small pieces and work through them one at a time. Think of it like breaking a habit.

I spent a year looking at our finances and took on extra work to make sure there would be enough money for me to live separately for a year. I didn't tell my ex that, I just did it. I put a portion of my paycheck into a savings account and trimmed down our expenses among other things to make sure we had as little debt as possible. What I didn't anticipate was the ongoing legal cost but my case was an outlier because my ex was a former trial attorney who loved the courtroom. You won't be dealing with that part of family law and that makes it  easier (although never easy). There have been many stories here over the years about people trying to sell homes with disordered spouses that were riddled with stonewalling and obstruction, taking years to do what should've been handled in months.

Moving small pebbles forward and anticipating issues really helped me manage the guilt, not to mention the fear.

My ex was prone to destroying things that were important to me so I also began a very slow process of moving nostalgic items, and then later important documents, to a storage unit. That turned out to be very important.

I also got a post office box, and a credit card in my name only. I got a burner phone for communicating with an attorney.

Your husband may not become as dysregulated as mine did so some of this may be more specific to my situation.

What helped me was kind of creating a new life while still living in the current one. It made it so I could experience new feelings in small tolerable ways and I got used to feeling them.

What surprised my ex most, and honestly surprised me too, was how resolute I was when I did finally leave. My guess is that I had emotionally arrived where I needed to be by taking small careful steps for a long time and surviving the changes. For other people, it might be different.

Expect the best, prepare for the worst.

[thepixies21]

If you think it will be very tough to do this, start breaking your concerns down into small pieces and work through them one at a time. Think of it like breaking a habit.

I think sometimes when I get anxious it is super hard to not look at the whole picture and feel like I need to deal with it now. I'm trying to manage that feeling and just focus on what I can actually reasonably accomplish each day. I'm also noticing just how much my own codependency is showing up lately. My husband was upset yesterday because I'm going to a fun work function this week that I've been planning to attend for months. But because it falls on a day off he lost it and said I'm not spending time with him. I let him know that I'm sorry I've been busy lately but I will have a lot of other days off where we will be together. He sulked and didn't talk much after that, and it triggered this super strong urge in me to seek reassurance but I stopped myself, and I've been dealing with the fallout of not acting on that today. I am glad I stuck to my guns and let him self-soothe, but man, I finally see just how much codependecy is an addiction, because I feel terrible. But I think realizing that has really helped dissipate the feeling. I am going to keep journaling and trying to catch myself while I go through this process. I think it's also just getting to me because I know I'm leaving and feel immense guilt that he doesn't know yet, and I am also meeting with the attorney tomorrow and it's just so much. But like you said, one day at a time.

Thanks so much for sharing your story as well! You were so patient and it sounds like you really took the time to think of the details and it paid off. I hope I have it in me to do that. I'm kind of impatient, and a "rip the bandaid off" kind of person but I think that will definitely not work in my favor if I do that here.

[cranmango]

Hi pixies--your story resonated with me, too. I don't remember much from my childhood. But one core memory is the first time my dad raged at me. We were sitting at the kitchen table talking. He was peppering me with questions, and I sighed at him. And he lost it. Just started spewing things about what a terrible child I was. He stormed up to his bedroom. I was so scared I ran to the basement and hid in the back corner, which was as far away as I could get. Eventually my mom came down to get me. She calmly told me that this whole thing was my fault, that I had made my dad act that way. And I was the only one who could make it right. That I had to go upstairs and apologize. I remember walking up the stairs and knocking on my dads door to say sorry. It was like facing down a monster in a horror movie. As soon as I knocked he starting screaming again. I don't remember how we got through the night. The next morning he took me to school like always. Then a little while later he came to get me. He pulled me out of the classroom and started scolding me in the hallway. He told me that this was my final chance to apologize. And if I didn't apologize then he wouldn't have a son anymore and he would never speak to me again. I apologized. He felt better. He sent me back into the classroom. I've thought about that day a lot in the decades since. Those moments change us.

Fast forward a couple decades to the last time my dad raged at me. I was a grown man, with my own kid on the way. We were talking in the dining room, and I didn't make enough eye contact. He snapped and started raging. Said a bunch of the usual stuff about what a terrible person I am. But the one thing that sticks with me? Toward the end of his rage when he was starting to calm down, he looked at me and calmly stated "I just don't like you. I never have." Something broke inside me that day.

That's then the "Hulk" in me finally woke up and said hey, this isn't ok. I don't have to just sit here and take this forever. It's not right. Ever since, I have had hard boundaries with my dad. We mostly communicate over text. He's always telling me how much he loves me, what a great son I am, how proud he is. I can never really believe him. I don't share much about my private life. But I keep an eye on him. When my mom was dying I promised I would do that for her. And I will.

He doesn't clearly remember any of these rages. He doesn't understand why we aren't closer. Once in a while he will tell me how sad it makes him. But mostly he just surrounds himself with enablers and distracts himself so he never really has to reflect on anything. He is not willing to change. And it's not my job to change him.

LNL is right about deeply ingrained patterns--years later, I found myself entangled in the relationship with my (likely BPD) ex. The verbal and emotional abuse whittled away at me over a period of a few years. I felt responsible for her emotions. I was recreating the same dynamic that I had with my dad as a child. Until one day she said something awful and unforgivable about my daughter. That's when the Hulk woke up once again. I will never, ever allow my daughter to be that terrified kid hiding in the basement. For the first time in our relationship, I started enforcing boundaries and holding her accountable for her own actions. And things fell apart pretty rapidly after that.

In my heart, I know I did the right thing. I also feel awful, and guilty, and sad. I love my ex. I miss her terribly. I am also grateful that the Hulk spoke up in that moment--and I think I should listen to that side of me a bit more often. I'm still grappling with the notion that I deserve to be respected. That boundaries actually make my life better. And that the best people in my life respect my boundaries. I've come a long way (and therapy has been extremely useful), but much of this still feels foreign.

Thanks for letting me momentarily hijack your thread with my rant. It's a long way to say that I hear you--I really do. Go see the desert. Go see the national parks. Go be the full, sparkling, 3D version of yourself.