I woke up this morning with the thought that my life was stolen from me. Everyrthing that’s happened before has led me to this point.
I hate to do this because there’s nothing I can about what’s already happened but it’s so difficult to fell motivated to lift myself out of this because I feel so hopeless.
Yesterday I had another emotional flashback over something B did. I flew off the handle once again and once again it was the same old pattern. I yelled, he sat with his eyes closed, indicating it was too loud for his head and ears and after I calmed down I apologized.
And after I apologized he said, “I should know better.” Just like a good little abuse victim, he blames himself.
Last week I showed him a video by Richard Grannon where at the end he talks about how a significant other can help, can deal, can cope. In fact before that I had B and I had a conversation and in that conversation I told him to please set boundaries. This is exactly what Richard said.
I told B exactly what to say. “I understand you’re upset/angry but I’m not going to have this conversation until you calm down.”
I pointed out how that line draws a boundary for himself, but lets me know that he’s open to conversation, just not while be disrespected.
Well, he didn’t do it.
I’ve approached him with these ideas before as well. I mean, I know I’m responsible for my behavior, which is why I have sought for so long for help and finally getting it. But it doesn’t get fixed over night. And the fact is, I need his help.
But he won’t help, or isn’t capable of it. So I’m alone in this, even though I live with someone. And besides that, I’ve only proven to myself once again that it’s a waste of time having these conversations with him.
It’s lonelier living with someone who can’t get involved and help with such a severe problem than it is living alone.
I was thinking about how sick we are as I did my breakfast dishes and thought, one reason for it is that there are no consequences. No consequences for me when I start the yelling and berating. And none for him when he continues with his apathy and lack of care and incapability of communication.
As soon as I ask him how he feels about something he clams up and says he doesn’t know.
We went through a period of time where he wasn’t paying certain bills and I found out incidentally because I happened to be looking for something in the file box where they were kept. He’d gone months making his debt worse and saying NOTHING to me.
That’s worthy of getting the fuck out and never coming back. But did I do that? Nope.
No emotion, no communication, no presence. I can’t even go to sleep when I want because I’m afraid he’ll burn the place down.
I feel so trapped.