My sufferer's current episode is the first since we've been together where he's trying to physically isolate. Looking back, he's mentally isolated a lot, I just thought it was him being an ass.
We're lucky in that we don't have kids and we have a spare bedroom, so he's sleeping in the spare room. He has his own office. I have my own office (we live in Arizona - we have a three bedroom house that has an "Arizona room" which is WONDERFUL for having an extra office space. This is very common here, apparently, and has been a godsend). He'd like to be able to be completely alone, but finances just don't allow him or me to move out. So, while I'm at work, he can isolate how much he wants. If he needs more time, he can ask me to stay out after work and entertain myself. Not ideal (for him), but better than being up in each others' grills all day. Days I have off are hard on him, so I'm going to have to start going out more.
I wish I had learned more about PTSD before our current crisis - he told me he needs alone time, but I didn't GET it. I didn't understand the hows and whys, and I'm a fixer - if something is broken in a relationship, I wanted to fix it, which means talking. Yeah, that doesn't work. Had he just put the name to his trauma aftermath, called it PTSD, I could have learned more, earlier, but it was always "This is just how I am. I'm an ass."
I swear, every day is like a new revelation, the more I read and learn. And every day, I feel more guilty for not knowing this is what it was from the beginning, and, yes, not listening to him when he tried to tell me without actually telling me.