We argue more than I feel is healthy. If I'm honest with myself I've never felt very secure in his feelings for me. He rarely tells me he loves me and this has always sat uncomfortably with me, despite the excuses I make for him. It's the unresolved issue in our relationship and he usually just says it's because he isn't that way inclined.
Just over a year ago we found out I was pregnant (unplanned). I was scared to tell my DP. 5 days after doing the test, I finally plucked up the courage to tell him. We were living apart having previously lived together at the time. He sold his house and moved back to his parents, whilst I moved into rented so we could buy something together. Our circumstances weren't ideal, but financially we were in a strong position. At first, when I broke the news, he was lovely - gave me a huge hug and said everything was going to be okay and that it was a good thing. We went along to the pub next door for a drink as planned and I left after his first pint to go and finish getting dinner ready. On his return his attitude towards the news had done a 360 and the months that followed can only be described as some of the worst months of my life.
Firstly he blamed me. Said I did it on purpose. Said I'd ruined his life - he didn't want any of this. He threw things and smashed some of my things. He also raised a previous termination that I'd had with a former partner 8 years prior (the other worst months of my life - cheating, lying, scumbag - which I found out after agreeing to terminate our pregnancy) which he knows I consider to be the biggest mistake of my life, a decision that haunts me everyday, and used it as a weapon to attack me with - telling me I'm fucked up because of my past and that I was taking it out on him. He made me feel judged and like a piece of shit. He then walked out.
It didn't get any better. He spent the rest of my pregnancy in a mood, either giving me silent treatment or telling me he hated me and that I'd ruined his life. I kept asking why he didn't just leave if he didn't want any of this and he just said he had no choice. He makes out to the rest of the world that he's this loving, caring man, but unfortunately that isn't the case. He has always been a big drinker and this side of him got worse. I felt lost, lonely and embarrassed. I hid my heartache to start with, but by Christmas I crumbled and opened up to my mum. We took a 2 week break and I wrote him a letter. I didn't want to give up, I wanted my baby to have a family. I couldn't understand why he was being like this and begged him to see a doctor as by now his family had noticed that he had become withdrawn.
Long story short, he got prescribed citalopram and in February we moved into a rented house. I hoped this would help, but he continued to be cold, uninterested and nasty towards me. At times I retaliated - got angry, told him it was over more times than i could keep up with, cried, screamed, begged. Nothing worked. I lived in the hope he would change once baby arrived. The stress eventually caused me to go into labour 6 weeks early. The day before our DS arrived I'd broken down at work. The night before had been unbearable and I didn't want to go home, and ended up wandering around a retail park until 9pm at night, 34 weeks pregnant, after a day at work and suffering with SPD. We were barely speaking when my waters broke the following morning.
As soon as our DS was born, it was clear that he adored him. For this I was grateful and relieved. The novelty however of our newborn soon wore off, and whilst I have no doubt that he loves him, he definitely loves himself more and seems to prioritise beer, work, football etc before either of us.
Since our DS's arrival we have continued to argue. About anything and everything. For a while I resented him for the way he treated me during pregnancy and was angry with myself that he was 'getting away with it'. He blames his mental health and takes no responsibility for his actions and tells me I was awful too and that we both caused the damage. He has never apologised.
In June things reached a head and I felt scared and confused after he smashed a load of things up in the house after a few drinks. He drinks everyday. And refuses to give it up as says he won't be told what to do. That he doesn't have a problem. I left and stayed with mum. I'd only planned to be gone a night, in the hope he would see sense, see what he faced losing, but he didn't once ask us to come home. Eventually after some talking and my desperation for it to work, I went home. After a few weeks, things seemed a bit better. He was drinking less and we were actually getting on again. I made a promise to myself to put the last behind me as it wasn't doing me or our relationship any good bringing it up all the time, but recently the arguments have started up again and so has the drinking.
He is vile to me when he drinks. Calls me a horrible nasty vicious woman if I 'nag' about chores that need doing - because I'm home all day whilst he's out 'grafting'. He seems to think he works harder than anyone else in the world and says a few drinks are harmless. He says my manor is nasty. He insults me. He says I'm abusive. I worry that he has a point. Tells me to calm down all the time, says I talk over him, tells me I need to obey and respect him. I find myself trying to be on my best behaviour to keep the peace, but all the while I keep compromising my own needs. We don't have a physical relationship anymore. At weekends he either works or goes up the pub. And if he does spend time with us, he drinks. He gets angry if I raise this with him - says its not like he's off playing golf all day. Blames his mental health and then I feel guilty. He falls asleep on the sofa most nights and I just leave him there now. Our relationship has become purely functional. Sometimes he can be lovely, but as soon as he drinks it's like he has a personality transplant. He often apologises the next day, but then repeats the process a few days later. In the past when he's agreed to cut back, I have felt suspicious that he's just hid it from me instead.
We recently had an offer accepted on a house. I was hoping that finally buying something we can renovate will help to make him happy. But I am also questioning whether I should be buying a house with him at all, or preparing myself to leave? I've not had a day off since our son was born. I don't feel I can trust him to look after DS without drinking. He's never taken him out of the house without me. I feel so lost and confused and incredibly lonely. I pretend to friends and even my mum now that everything is great, but we argued last night (well he was rude and I walked away) he went out first thing this morning and hasn't come home since.
It's so hard to completely articulate what life is like. Its so hard to put into words how horrible he makes me feel. And because I struggle with this he says he can't really be that bad. He then turns it on me and says I'm the bad one.
I think I know what you are all going to say....I'd say the same, so why can't I find the courage to leave? In my head I know I'm going to buy this house....I'm too much of a coward not to. I'm too embarrassed of what others will think.....why can't I just see sense?! My son is my world....I think that's why I'm torn. I want the best for him but not sure what that is?