Obsession

I have become obsessed with the incongruity in life with DH.  Lies, half truths, broken promises, manipulations.  I cannot go on like this. I am embarrassed to myself that I have put up with so much.  I don't know this person I have become. When I was young, I had a secure life with my family.  I am not secure enough to be happy. I am waiting for the next thing that "does not add up" - deception and confusion. 

I completely understand! He

I completely understand! He tells a lie or breaks a promise, you talk or argue over it, you think its resolved. Then oh what's this a new lie, broken promise etc. And so the vicious cycle begins again. Then one day you have the realization of "who the heck am I? And how did I get here?" Its where I'm at now. I used to be funny and organized and thoughtful and spontaneous. Now I'm so run down I forget things. I'm so emotionally drained and a lil bitter. I've learned "watching" him does me no good. If he's going to lie, he will lie. It comes to light eventually and I've found it takes less energy to let the truth bubble on its own. You just have to decide where the point of no return is for you. Take on only the tasks you have to like money. I can tell you after a 4 year battle with my hubby, if he isn't on meds there is nothing you can do. Our therapist told me that when he was diagnosed but not yet on meds. He said it doesn't matter how you react-screaming, threatening, silent treatment. Talking. The end result is the same.

I understand, too, my dear

Hi Jennalemon,

I get the obsessed thing. I think once you figure everything out, you need to process it. I read an article about post-traumatic stress disorder recently, and it said that one thing that happened to victims of trauma is that they relived the experience over and over again. Not that I would insult a shell-shocked military vet by likening my situation to theirs, but I think some parallels must exist in surviving anger, betrayal, and the shock of realizing that there is something very, very wrong and that it has been going on for a long time. When I finally realized everything at once: his behavior was consistent, it was not changing, it was making me unhappy, that it was not how I wanted to be treated, that he was answering no to my requests to try medication, a therapist, or marriage counseling to do things differently, and that it was caused by a serious disorder that he has, I felt the same way. Obsessed with the realization, and the idea that I couldn't believe that I would put up with this, for so long. Embarrassed that I would let my husband treat me this way. That it wasn't all my fault and no matter how hard I tried to get him to appreciate me, or to be nicer to me, or to help out with our family obligations, or to have discussions with me about how things would go, I couldn't make him be different. I didn't and don't know who I am right now, but I am not proud of who I have been, and our family life isn't something I would be happy for my children to remember when they are grown. I think I am going to have to spend some serious time mourning the years that I have lost and the affect this all has had on me and my children and let go of the idea that it can be very different. 

This is a lot to process, and the realization hit me a few months ago. I am in a state of some disassociation right now, for a variety of reasons, but mostly to preserve my own mental health and to build up some strength while I figure everything out. It is a great question, amonty, in deciding what the point of no return is for you. It seemed to help me to make a short list of things that were absolutely unacceptable, and I did. The other morning my DH screamed at me, when I was prodding him to call his doctor about something, and I got up, quietly left the room, waited, and calmly told him a few hours later, that I didn't like it and that he needed to stop doing it. Small matter, but I felt better that a) I didn't yell back b) I explained to him that it was not ok and c) that I calmly asked him not to do it. The toughest thing for me about his ADHD, seriously, is that a few hours later, he doesn't seem to remember that he yelled at me, and every fiber of his being wants to avoid talking about it. The solution or coping for him is to be nice to me later, and "start fresh," which I have finally realized, just does not work for me. I interpret this as not having any empathy for my feelings and not caring, and I just don't care anymore that it can be blamed on ADHD. And it is such a relief to hear that there is nothing wrong with me that I "want to live in the past," as he says, or "stay angry," or "can't let things go." Seeing a counselor for me is helping because I have a separate life from everyone and I can talk about everything, and she is agreeing with me that much of this is not ok and that it makes sense for me to be so unhappy. 

Hang in there, everyone.