20 year marriage, DC now teenage, DH is abusive and I've spent the last 10 years (since I realised it was him not me) trying to 'fix' him. I have poor MH, no confidence and am financially dependant on him which is why I'm still here. I have made some headway over the years, he no longer has aggressive outbursts, no more punching walls, standing over me with raised fists or shouting and name calling, although the fear is always there for me. He doesn't sulk anymore (because he knows it won't work) and is better at talking about his feelings instead of brooding, he is no longer sexually coercive.
The last (latest?) abusive behaviour is proving harder to crack. He essentially comes home in a mood due to a bad day, bad journey (he drives a lot for work) or whatever and proceeds to make my life as awkward as possible. He won't eat, even if starving and manages to somehow make it my fault, if we have plans he sabotages them or makes conflict where there is none, just generally makes life difficult and himself a victim/martyr.
I had thought we'd even made some progress with this, it's been about 6 weeks since last time and I had begun to dare hope, more fool me. I guess because the other stuff has improved so much I thought maybe the end was in sight but I'm deluding myself aren't I? And if I manage to fix this then something else will pop up won't it, it's like fucking whack-a-mole.
I think I'm just annoyed with myself for allowing myself to hope, I've expended all this energy, wasted all this time trying to fix what I had when I should have been building my independence so I felt strong enough to leave. I have to start from scratch now, 10 years older and more depleted by his shit but I know I have to do it. It shouldn't be a surprise but I just feel so fucking disappointed, why on earth did I think he could keep it up?