RedPandaFluff I have sat him down and said that I can't do it anymore, and that he has to do something. He then goes and does something, but it slowly fades away. So what I would then have to do is be the policeman about it, and I just do not have the energy to wear that hat as well as all the other hats I wear every day. I am utterly exhausted to the point where I can't remember simple words for things.
Bouffalant I think he's had five or six lots of therapy of various sorts: both through the NHS and privately. Most of them have been for about ten weeks once a week. One of the issues he complains about is that councillors do not seem to understand the nature of his anxiety, and that he has paid a lot in the past and got nowhere. Part of me suspects he thinks someone should give him the answer without having to work through it himself, as I've seen worksheets come home that he never looks at again.
UnbowedUnbentUnbroken I know. This has been said to me before: that I suffer the brunt of his anxiety and he doesn't. And, of course, this led onto theories of co-dependence and ... endless conversations about his upbringing, which, I have to admit, wasn't marvellous. And I have said it to him, that he is controlling my life, and he gets down about that and says "I can't help it" and "I don't want to make you feel like this." But it continues. And I no longer have another rabbit-in-the-hat idea to pull out that might just be the solution.
mankyfourthtoe It's hard to just go. The atmosphere in the house gets weirder and weirder, and he will put on this fake smiley "I'm alright really" face. It's not unknown for him just to turn up somewhere panic-stricken. Once, years ago, I went to a local planning meeting and left him a note to say where I was when he came home from work. When I arrived home two hours later, my mum and aunt were there in tears. DH had called them and said I was missing. DH and my Dad were out looking for me: my Dad convinced I was dead in a ditch or something. I was probably about 35 at the time; it was, frankly, a ridiculous situation, but I didn't realise at the time that it wasn't a one off.
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The other thing to mention here, which is probably relevant, is the DH now works from home four days a week, and I work from home two days a week and look after DD for the other three. So I spend six days out of seven in the same environment with DH from morning til night.
And yes, I worry about DD. Not so much for now, but what might happen when she gets into her teens and wants to go out with friends. I want her to feel free, to not be hampered by either my or DH's received ideas about things, and I work hard, even thought she's still small, to ensure she has that sense of curiosity about the world and that I am not accidentally modelling her in a negative way.
peachgreen
The problem is, when I had anxiety, I almost didn't want to get better because the anxiety was telling me that if I stopped being anxious, something terrible would happen. Secretly I think I was a bit protective over my anxiety because I felt it was keeping me from harm.
Ohhhhh, woahhhh .... this makes so much sense. When I think about DH and how he seems to process his anxiety, it really relates. Oh, peachgreen, you are a star!
I didn't understand why he just couldn't get to grips with the problem and try and find a solution or set of solutions because it was screwing up our lives so much. I thought it was a legacy of codependency; I never considered there might be another payoff to the anxiety in this way. Crikey, it must behave like a kind of parasite.
Right ... I have to put my big girl pants on now. I have to figure out what I am going to say, and go downstairs and say it. And I have to commit myself to a time limit.
And he's just called upstairs to ask me if I want to go into town to have my eyebrows done and pick up some nice decaf coffee. He is such a nice person; oh crikey, this is just horrible ... that it has got to this point where I have to give him an ultimatum.