Is it really fair for me to expect him to wait for me to get better, or should I let him go so my disorder doesn't keep holding him back anymore? I've put him through so much before my diagnosis... I just can't find the logic in keeping him on the hook only to let him down in the end.
I wish though, that I knew the name, knew why, before my relationship completely crumbled in my hand.
We've lived together for over 3 years now. Had many, many, many, MANY downs and the ups we got to experience were so amazing, they cancelled out 5 downs. So I believed it was worth it. Now the damage is done. I have made him feel unloved, lonely, scared, hopeless, and now - faith no more. He's waited this whole time for me to stop ignoring him. To show I loved him. To put my attention, all of it, into him when he needs me to. Instead, I slept. I pushed away. I half listened - if even that, and though we were 3 inches from each other every night, he felt like I was halfway across the world. Had we known what we know now or my disorder, things would've been so different now. We already have a highly intelligent relationship, as well as have been able to change for the better, learn more about ourselves as a couple and individuals. But because all I could say or think or feel or do, when he needed me... Really needed me, my love, all I had was, "I don't know" & "I don't know what's wrong with me, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you AGAIN." Eventually, he disconnected. His faith that I would one day, be as there for him as he was for me - if he just kept devoting himself to me and trying to crack the lock by affection, and all sorts of tactics, was lost. He and I are moving apart from each other. He told me he was sorry, especially because we only recently discovered the answer to our million dollar question. But it was just too late. He can't take anymore neglect from me. He can't handle coming home from work and the house looks like a bomb went off inside of a hoarder's house, not one single clean dish anywhere, and me.... In bed. It was killing him. He's ready to start living again and if he stays living with me, he fears nothing will change. I'll continue to waste my life in bed, expecting my kids and him to take care of everything. (Don't you love guilt and how powerful it can be over you?)
He doesnt want to live with ME. He is still madly in love with me but the pain he'll have from laying in an empty bed, and have it really be empty - not just me, hiding away, is far less pain than watching me waste away everyday. I'm so scared that I'm going to lose the only man who ever genuinely loved me and tried to make me happy because he loved my smile. Brought me food in bed all the time, because I was in despair and depressed. Tried to make me realize what I had inn front of me, not for his own feelings, but for mine. I'm so angry with the men who abused me. Who impregnated me with PTSD, hitting me like a ton of bricks out of nowhere. I can't handle the guilt from making him so hopeless, he'd rather leave. I know I should let him go, break up with him. I can't guarantee that I won't hurt him again, break his heart some more. He's got very little heart left. Very little patience left for me. I don't want him to have to make that choice to leave and be happy or stay and be disappointed and crushed, time and time again.
I'm sure that some of these people here know exactly how I feel at the moment. Conflicted to the point I am overwhelmed and want to throw up, cry, run away, or climb into my bed and sleep for days until it's fixed. That's a huge yeah right. If only sleeping had fixed my errors, by now we would be married. I love him enough to let him go. But I don't want to never be able to kiss his soft lips, hold his rough hand, or stand on my toes (I'm 5'10" & he's 6'4" - our height being a favorite to both of us about one another) to kiss his nose. But I also don't want to listen to him cry quietly next to me at night, facing away, wrapped in his own set of blankets and feel frozen and immobilized, unable to comfort him like he NEEDS from me, hurting him more. And then there's the "In the future when I have my stuff figured out and am back in track, and when you have learned more tools in coping with your PTSD, we'll be able to blah..blah..blah... My whole life I have tried my F@#$ING @SS off to work hard and it be enough that it didn't disappoint or let down the people I loved and cared about. It wasn't ever good enough. My best has never been good enough. My trying has never been trying enough. How is it fair to agree with him and get his hopes floating high about my reach? I don't want to hurt him now, next year, or how ever many years it would take for him to want to live with me again, or until his 10 year old is an adult, or my 13 year old an adult.
{attachment from Google Images}
I wish though, that I knew the name, knew why, before my relationship completely crumbled in my hand.
We've lived together for over 3 years now. Had many, many, many, MANY downs and the ups we got to experience were so amazing, they cancelled out 5 downs. So I believed it was worth it. Now the damage is done. I have made him feel unloved, lonely, scared, hopeless, and now - faith no more. He's waited this whole time for me to stop ignoring him. To show I loved him. To put my attention, all of it, into him when he needs me to. Instead, I slept. I pushed away. I half listened - if even that, and though we were 3 inches from each other every night, he felt like I was halfway across the world. Had we known what we know now or my disorder, things would've been so different now. We already have a highly intelligent relationship, as well as have been able to change for the better, learn more about ourselves as a couple and individuals. But because all I could say or think or feel or do, when he needed me... Really needed me, my love, all I had was, "I don't know" & "I don't know what's wrong with me, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you AGAIN." Eventually, he disconnected. His faith that I would one day, be as there for him as he was for me - if he just kept devoting himself to me and trying to crack the lock by affection, and all sorts of tactics, was lost. He and I are moving apart from each other. He told me he was sorry, especially because we only recently discovered the answer to our million dollar question. But it was just too late. He can't take anymore neglect from me. He can't handle coming home from work and the house looks like a bomb went off inside of a hoarder's house, not one single clean dish anywhere, and me.... In bed. It was killing him. He's ready to start living again and if he stays living with me, he fears nothing will change. I'll continue to waste my life in bed, expecting my kids and him to take care of everything. (Don't you love guilt and how powerful it can be over you?)
He doesnt want to live with ME. He is still madly in love with me but the pain he'll have from laying in an empty bed, and have it really be empty - not just me, hiding away, is far less pain than watching me waste away everyday. I'm so scared that I'm going to lose the only man who ever genuinely loved me and tried to make me happy because he loved my smile. Brought me food in bed all the time, because I was in despair and depressed. Tried to make me realize what I had inn front of me, not for his own feelings, but for mine. I'm so angry with the men who abused me. Who impregnated me with PTSD, hitting me like a ton of bricks out of nowhere. I can't handle the guilt from making him so hopeless, he'd rather leave. I know I should let him go, break up with him. I can't guarantee that I won't hurt him again, break his heart some more. He's got very little heart left. Very little patience left for me. I don't want him to have to make that choice to leave and be happy or stay and be disappointed and crushed, time and time again.
I'm sure that some of these people here know exactly how I feel at the moment. Conflicted to the point I am overwhelmed and want to throw up, cry, run away, or climb into my bed and sleep for days until it's fixed. That's a huge yeah right. If only sleeping had fixed my errors, by now we would be married. I love him enough to let him go. But I don't want to never be able to kiss his soft lips, hold his rough hand, or stand on my toes (I'm 5'10" & he's 6'4" - our height being a favorite to both of us about one another) to kiss his nose. But I also don't want to listen to him cry quietly next to me at night, facing away, wrapped in his own set of blankets and feel frozen and immobilized, unable to comfort him like he NEEDS from me, hurting him more. And then there's the "In the future when I have my stuff figured out and am back in track, and when you have learned more tools in coping with your PTSD, we'll be able to blah..blah..blah... My whole life I have tried my F@#$ING @SS off to work hard and it be enough that it didn't disappoint or let down the people I loved and cared about. It wasn't ever good enough. My best has never been good enough. My trying has never been trying enough. How is it fair to agree with him and get his hopes floating high about my reach? I don't want to hurt him now, next year, or how ever many years it would take for him to want to live with me again, or until his 10 year old is an adult, or my 13 year old an adult.
{attachment from Google Images}