Well I put up with a distinct lack of domestic bliss for - there are different ways of measuring this, I'd say for this purpose 23 years, from moving in together to declaring that I was seeking a divorce. At first, of course, we did share things out as I believed we had agreed, and all was sweetness and light. XH would get those moods sometimes, but he couldn't help them (I told myself) because of his past. Most of the time he was gentle and easy-going, he made a lot of tea and he never laid a finger on me in anger. We had pets, we had children, I was the main (effectively sole) earner as well as doing pretty much all the household stuff, having the DCs exclusively whenever I was home, taking days off for their school appointments etc, and I did feel it was a bit of a strain, but H was clearly depressed and needed support and he was (here comes the cliche) lovely with the children. I didn't think I had a right to leave. I believed you stay and work things out; and, off and on, it seemed to work, for the most part. He even got a bit better about things like taking the DCs to the dentist himself, then they got bigger and helped with the chores, bless them. I thought it was all going to be lovely from now on, but still H had these little turns which I would have liked him to see a doctor about, but of course he wouldn't. If I had a problem it was my problem, there was nothing wrong with him.
One day it all got a bit too much and I started to realise he was doing a lot of this moodiness on purpose, and that the rest of it was way beyond the spectrum of normal. I looked round at the filthy mess he'd made of our house, got my ass in gear and cleaned up; then a couple of days later he was frantically moving it all back in again, worse than before. But there was always a good reason why there had to be a mess (eg he couldn't leave the tools in the garage because he hadn't got round to fitting the door, so they had to go under the dining table
). Although he was always too busy to do housework, take the DCs out anywhere or accompany me with walking the dogs (even after I'd been assaulted!), he never actually made any money, and indeed in a bad year my not-very-impressive wages subsidised his business. We'd always had a fairly regular sex life, but there were kind of... issues around it which I tended to blame on myself as I was kind of repressed and ignorant about the whole intimacy thing, but which I eventually realised were at least 50% down to him - only after he temporarily lost it for a couple of months, which kind of broke the spell.
He had massive insecurity issues, well he couldn't help that, poor dear, eventually he would learn to trust me. After 24 years (started before marriage, yes yes, now I know it's a red flag) of being accused of stuff I'd never dream of doing I eventually snapped a bit and am ashamed to say embarked on a brief (and far from satisfying) emotional affair with a guy over the internet. What astonished me was the intense relief I felt, knowing that I could no longer be falsely accused because I finally was actually doing something wrong! This was clearly not healthy. (The virtual OM was in fact a dick and it didn't last long, but I did get a glimpse of what it should be like to just have fun with someone who has no vested interest in bringing you down, and who stands beside you if someone's giving you grief instead of standing a little way away, looking at the sky, only to tell you off later for letting them talk to you like that... well, you get the picture. Probably.) I didn't like myself for it and didn't want to be that person. I couldn't squash it down when XH went on, and on, and on about affairs and unfaithfulness and "what I was up to" and I just wanted to "show him", like a rebellious child. I'd almost say he drove me to have it, but he didn't of course. I do claim he drove me to want it. So of course when I told him about it, as you do (well I'd always been honest with him, however often he called me a liar!) he said "this marriage is over then", and it felt fabulous, free... until he said he didn't mean it and he wanted us to try again. Back down to earth with a dull thud.
Well, I'd insisted a few months ago we went to Relate, XH kicked up a huge fuss to accompany a flat refusal, but as soon as I said ok, you're right, it is over, he said hey, why don't we get some counselling? I went along with it because I thought I had to try. But he behaved so awfully in front of the counsellor, the shock in her face and her reaction to what he was saying finally showed me, OMG, this is in fact mad stuff and my reactions to it are reasonable! Later I got individual counselling for myself and again, found it tremendously validating.
Reader, if you're still awake, I divorced him. I could do this thing I always thought I couldn't/shouldn't do. I still wasted a few months flagellating myself with guilt though. He's sick, he can't help it, the DCs don't want us to split up etc. I gathered up the last of my sanity and told myself it doesn't matter whether he can help it or not, I cannot live with this. I really had to get totally to rock bottom before giving up on it. You see it as strength, and so do I, now, but at the time it looked and felt like weakness. But I knew I couldn't fix him because I'd bloody tried, and had pretty much shot myself in the brain in the process.
I don't know what that adds to the debate, if anything. It's a glimpse inside the mind of someone who was deluded by love and duty for many, many years. And yet I am strong. I'm not stupid. You, you smug women, I don't dislike you but I am so very cross with you, you are the ones who are being stupid here, wilfully blind. You don't realise that you are bloody lucky to be where you are. You think you have been clever. Yes, we all thought we had been clever at the start, but some of us were wrong. I don't want something bad to happen to you to prove a point, but I wish you with all my heart to open your eyes and ears and learn empathy so that, if it ever happens to someone close to you, you can help them instead of going all "well you've only got yourself to blame you know"
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This is fucking massive and probably some of you have read the story before, but I'm going to post it anyway because I put so much energy into typing it, and my energy is precious to me these days. So read it or... don't.