S
Sumu
Today I want to just scream and rant and ask his family if they know it's all PTSD? That I'm not an awful person? That he needs HELP?
Then I feel guilty for feeling like I need to be "right." What difference does it make? What difference does it make that he promised me anything? Now, his truth is this. We are done, and he's not getting help, and that's that. It doesn't matter that I'd stick by him no matter what, if he'd only get help. He's done, I'm awful, and that's that.
Some days I can accept and move on and give space.
Then there are the days I can't.
None of this is fair. It's not fair he went through hell, and ended up with this monster of an illness. It's not fair he couldn't stick to his own plan of not letting it defeat him, it's not fair he decides to throw me away when it's all too hard, after he said he wouldn't. It's not fair I have needs too, and we were good for awhile, and he just can't do it anymore. It's just not fair. None of it.
And then there's my own guilt. That there were so many days where I thought I *was* done, myself. When, even not knowing what I was dealing with, I couldn't take any more rejection (what I know now isn't), any more refusal of intimacy, any more solitude. I *know* this is best for me too. So why can't I just move on?
Oh right. Because I don't work that way. Only he does. Only he gets to walk away unscathed, because right now he doesn't feel anything. And I get to pick up the pieces of my life and home, and try to carry on, without him.
Then I feel guilty for feeling like I need to be "right." What difference does it make? What difference does it make that he promised me anything? Now, his truth is this. We are done, and he's not getting help, and that's that. It doesn't matter that I'd stick by him no matter what, if he'd only get help. He's done, I'm awful, and that's that.
Some days I can accept and move on and give space.
Then there are the days I can't.
None of this is fair. It's not fair he went through hell, and ended up with this monster of an illness. It's not fair he couldn't stick to his own plan of not letting it defeat him, it's not fair he decides to throw me away when it's all too hard, after he said he wouldn't. It's not fair I have needs too, and we were good for awhile, and he just can't do it anymore. It's just not fair. None of it.
And then there's my own guilt. That there were so many days where I thought I *was* done, myself. When, even not knowing what I was dealing with, I couldn't take any more rejection (what I know now isn't), any more refusal of intimacy, any more solitude. I *know* this is best for me too. So why can't I just move on?
Oh right. Because I don't work that way. Only he does. Only he gets to walk away unscathed, because right now he doesn't feel anything. And I get to pick up the pieces of my life and home, and try to carry on, without him.
