I spent my morning reading through an old thread of ours. Number 12 I think. Gosh, what a difference a year and a half makes. I was desperate to get out, playing the lottery every week, dreaming of a little house to rent for me and the kids. Then accepting I couldn’t make the move as I simply couldn’t afford it. It took me another six months, but I did it! I got out.
DP and I limped on for another year. I felt more in control and was quite happy. No more eggshells, no more having to keep pretending I was fine when I wasn’t, no more putting up with his extreme sensitivity to any perceived criticism which made it very difficult for me to ask him not to do something as he would sense criticism and fly into a rage. I took to just cleaning up after his mess as asking him to do it would be seen as nagging and criticism, but even then he would shout at me, telling me to leave his mess alone and he would get to it himself (except we all know he wouldn’t !). So having to live in perpetual mess and lack of cleanliness which I found unbearable.
We were much better living apart. We spent the weekends together that we didn’t have our respective DC. And these were pleasant enough for a while. Though he became unemployed (again) for several months. When this happened before I had to use literally all the proceeds from my divorce to keep us afloat, paying the rent and bills on a big house for us all. It’s left me with nothing. Thank god I got out when I did as I would have had to have got into a shared debt situation to keep the roof over our heads. This time, his unemployment didn’t affect me. He has accrued even more debt. It would have caused me immense stress and sleepless nights. I was very grateful to my former self for moving out when I did and avoiding that shit storm.
I became ill not long after this. I am on the road to recovery now (but it’s been a very rough six months). I did it without his support. He just wasn’t there for me. One time he was supposed to take me to one of my hospital appointments but failed to show up at the agreed time or even get in contact! I took myself in the end (it was a horrible and scary appointment which is why he had offered to take me) and I sat there alone, frightened and crying in the waiting room, let down once again, and not knowing what was wrong with me. On my birthday too! It was just another example of him being completely unreliable and making promises he can’t keep. Of course he was apologetic and full of excuses. I cared not.
I found myself caring less and less. I have my life and he has his. He worked for a few weeks and is now out of work again. He spends his days looking for a job or propping up the local bar, talking to his “friends”. I suspect he got himself a new younger girlfriend. I found that amusing rather than hurtful.
I eventually said enough is enough. It is over. We don’t have a place in our lives for each other any more. He tried to get me to “talk” but is so bad at communication that he approached this with a mixture of head in the sand or wanting to tell me all about his needs. I said I’ve no interest in discussing anything, wished him well (resisted the urge to mention the new girlfriend), said I’d be in touch about getting my bits from his house and vice versa.
Apparently he is very “upset”.
I wish I’d ended it four or five years ago when I started to see the real him. I’d have lot more money for a start! No point having regrets though, is there? I suppose we did have lots of nice times and I was happy periodically, until one of his rages, followed usually by him telling me how very “upset” HE was. (If I never have to hear the word “upset” again I shall be ever thankful!!). I feel empowered and strong. If I can get through the last year (which has been the hardest of my life), then I can do anything.
Not sure I’m ready to meet a new man yet, or ever really. The thought is terrifying! I don’t trust my judgement. I can’t imagine ever depending on anyone again. I do know one thing: I will never get into a relationship with an autistic man again. Not if my life depended on it. There’s a reason both me and his ex consider ourselves survivors of domestic abuse. I don’t have any hard feelings. I feel very little. A bit sad for him really, even though he’s treated me especially appallingly the last few months. I think Busty stopped being attentive and useful so he just stopped speaking to me! It was very weird. But was the push I needed to ask myself what does this man bring to my life?! Nothing but disappointment. An occasional nice evening is simply not worth it. I am better off alone. (My friends are over the moon!!)
If anyone is in the early stages of a relationship like I was, thinking they can make it work or it will get better…. It won’t. You will lose. Get out if you can.
Love and strength to you all. Xx