my brain feels stuck. Ever have so much running through your head that you have to get it out or you’ll most certainly go crazy, but you just have no idea where to start. I mean stream of consciousness writing is fine for your journal, but it doesn’t work well when you want people to be able to follow your thought process. I think this is the natural offshoot of a draft I started called “Marriage Counseling Round Three” that I never finished. It is finished now.
Round Three of marriage counseling culminated in my being so angry and upset and frustrated with the fact that I had just sat there for another hour listening to how everything that is wrong with my marriage is due to my having Bipolar disorder (among several others that just exacerbate it, namely PTSD, but that’s a whole other post). It is not our marriage. It is my marriage like I own it as a possession. Last I looked marriage was defined by the union of two, not one, persons. Anyway, we stopped at Walmart on the way home, and not really wanting to deal with Walmart in my current state of mind which, at the time, was rather antisocial. Funny how listening to everything being your fault can do that to you. Especially, if it is a recurring theme. Anyway, I opted to stay in the car while husband went to buy juice and some other item. “I’ll be right out,” he says. An hour and a half later, I was handing the keys to the car to him wordlessly and heading for the bus stop. I didn’t really mean to stay out until 3:30 in the morning, but maybe I did. I know I wanted nothing to do with him or being around him or feeling trapped in the house. So, maybe I intentionally stayed out that late.
I get home, and he is mad. Probably rightfully so. I told him that i had stopped by a dive blues bar that I used to go to with a really good friend, and that they had a band that night. He said he had tried to call several times but I did not answer. Ever tried to hear your cell ringing when a band is onstage tearing it up? You can’t. So, here’s part of where my brain gets stuck. He spent an entire hour telling what essentially amounted to lies to the therapist (he slickly left out his own predeliction to shopping when upset or just bored), and blamed our entire financial situation on my having Bipolar disorder. I can honestly say that, yes, having Bipolar disorder does sometimes make handling finances a bit tricky. However, I have managed for 22 years to keep a roof over my head, bills close to paid, and food in the fridge. Granted, I don’t have a stellar credit rating, but that may be a blessing in disguise.
Anyway, here he is telling me how he had gone out looking for me, and drove around for a couple of hours and called and yadda-yadda-ya. All this after spending an hour telling the therapist how essentially everything was my fault which is the same tune he sang a the previous two sessions. So, now my brain is trying it’s broken best to process this conflicting information and coming up with nothing. It’s like a seized engine.
The relationship between us has been declining fairly rapidly over the past 6 or 7 months. He is sleeping on the sofa, refuses to sleep in the bed, no “marital” relations, you know, all the precursors for divorce. All of this also contains two fairly “feisty” arguments, one of which left me feeling so much rage after being yelled and cursed at for an hour that I had to take my night time meds and go to sleep rather than remain awake and prone to who knows what. Although, when I am that angry, I tend towards a sort of homicidal calmness that freaks even me out. I don’t curse, I do not raise my voice, I simply say exactly what I am thinking in no uncertain terms, and that can be a little much sometimes. I never claimed I was the vision of perfection. I am simply a person trying to manage life with several rather debilitating and chronic and potentially dangerous (to myself) diagnoses.
Well, last night, I ended up bringing a friend home so he could just chill out for awhile in a relatively calm environment. Note: the friend was a guy. So, we kick back for a while and read the Craig’s List personals to amuse ourselves (they are amusing). Then about 12 am, I set off to take him home where he and his girlfriend commence their argument that was the reason he left in the first place. I didn’t think anything about bringing a FRIEND over. But, apparently, husband took it as I was cheating on him by bringing this male friend over and then hanging out at his house while he gathered some stuff and getting a motel room. When I got home, I sure as hell wished I had the money for a motel room. I was Jezebel for bringing another male into the house. I had disrespected the house, disrespected him, disrespected everything holy.
He said it was a good thing we had no lethal weapons in the house. That type of statement does not have a good effect on me. Inferring that you may or may not try to physically hurt me sets off a whole host of triggers; the strongest of which is self-preservation at all costs. I have already been assaulted and been in a physically abusive relationship. I do believe they call what I have as a result of those experiences in my youth PTSD. Any mention that you may be about to hurt me makes me defensive and ready to go an the attack because I will never be hurt physically again. I made my mind up about that a long time ago. So, we get into “feisty” conversation number two in the same number of weeks leaving me determined to end this whole debacle once and for all. It didn’t even occur to me to sleep on it, and maybe things would be better in the morning because I already knew they wouldn’t. Besides, now I have been physically threatened. Now it is a given. I am leaving. Staying and trying to work it out is no longer an option. He has threatened my life in a round about way.
The main reason my brain is stuck is that I have never once accused him of cheating even though he would get all dressed up just to go run errands that took him 8 hours. The same errands took me about 2 hours. Where was he for those extra 6 hours? And he has the utter nerve to threaten me. No. Divorce proceedings will be initiated at the end of this week. He killed what was left of his marriage last night. I have had it with the constant barrage of well meaning remarks, had enough of being told that I am the problem, that because I have mental issues I am not worthy enough, that I had no life before him, that everything I do is not quite good enough, and lastly, being told that it was a good thing there are no lethal weapons in the house. You do not threaten me like that. You just do not. So, that’s the culmination of Marriage Counseling Round Three. Divorce. Sometimes you have to protect yourself.