@Notsuchaniceguy I am not extremely excited when guys venture out into the world of MN but it is always refreshing to get a different prospective, or the same prospective coming from the opposite sex. Anyway, it is amazing how many people stay because they feel guilty about leaving, and right there is your answer. You DO want to leave, you just feel bad about it. Do you think that this is a good foundation for a happy life?
I spent 25 years with my husband before I decided to call it quits. At least 15 of those I was… confused, sad, unhappy. My ex husband did not hit me, yell at me, cheat on me but I felt plenty abused. He controlled our money from the day one, he always had the last word when making any kinds of decisions, he would get upset if I would complain about anything, start arguing with me, eventually he would give me silent treatment to teach me a lesson. He thought he knew everything and would laugh at me and others if we did not know, he needed to be admired constantly, he thought very highly of himself to the point of sounding ridiculous, he had no empathy and could not sacrifice for others. (You say you think you are a narcissist, well you have not met my darling ex) In fact, I think that the breaking point for me was when I realized that I could not even say that "he is a nice guy", because he clearly is not. He is mean, rude, sarcastic and cynical. He used to do a lot around the house, and the kids, when they were younger, but lately he did not do much at all and did not get along well with the kids either.
When I finally decided to leave it was… well, the worst possible time, for me, him, the kids. Bloody Covid broke, he lost his job and then his mother, our kids were struggling with mental health issues, we were stuck working from home. I realized that this was the worst time to go, but I could not stay any longer. My blood pressure was sky rocketing, I had heart palpitations and dizzy spells, anxiety was eating away my insides and I was sure that I will either die or loose my mind… so I did it.
We lived together for four more months before he moved out. I slept on the floor, cooked and cleaned, and all and we were mostly ok to each other. The worst time was a week or so before he left, him moving out and couple of weeks after. The guilt was eating me alive. I did not feel guilty about leaving him, I felt guilty about leaving him at that point, which was clearly the worst moment of his life.
I started feeling better few weeks after he moved out, the less I saw him (our kids are grown up, only one of three is a minor so no need to be in touch except working on separation agreement). Six months later, I already feel like a brand new person. So calm, so content, so happy to be alive. I cannot wait to go to bed at night, bundle up in my cozy sheets, to wake up in the morning and have coffee in peace, plan my day. I do what I want, when I want it, nobody there to criticize and belittle me and tell me what to do or not to. Cook and clean and do whatever I want for my kids without him sulking and making comments about it. Coming home is the most wonderful affair now, my quiet, cozy home, where my kids live, my dog, where I am at peace and happy. While there are some bad days, some mornings when I wake up feeling anxious and sad, all in all I feel much better. Life is beautiful again, it really is. Every little bit of it. The most common of days, when I do nothing at all, knit, watch Netflix, meditate, is the most glorious indeed.
I am sorry, people here know that my posts are essays
, always too long, but I hope this helps. We all deserve to be happy, that is all.