Things went from bad to worse last night. At 8pm, my H called me from the other house and said that he was staying there and that someone who lives locally would be giving him a ride to work. By then, our little guys were crying and fussing around my feet wondering where there Daddy was and I was feeling like I had had enough.
So I ended up taking them over there so that they could spend the night with him. Things went downhill even more as soon as I arrived.
He pulled out every dagger he had on him and reduced me to a bloody pulp.
Just a few examples: a. He was furious at me about the truck situation; said it was my fault and that it is worthless now; that we could have traded it in before this happened, but I’d dragged my feet on it. b. He got in my face and said if it weren’t for the fact that I was sick, he’d be long gone. c. That my illness and consequent body weight were somehow my fault and that I could think my way out of it if I chose to. d. Made vague and undefined references as to the reasons I make him want to end his life. e. That he hates working 50 to 60 hours a week and that no matter how much he makes, it’s not enough. The inference was made that I had run him into debt. Mind you, he was spending money like there was no tomorrow back when he was having his A. He also pours a lot of money into his hobbies - motorcycles and a used Porsche, which by the way, none of them run. f. He said he didn’t want any of the things we have and he doesn’t want his family.
The list goes on but some of the things he said are just too mean and nasty to repeat.
He found fault with just about everything I said and belittled my feelings.
His words tore through me like barbed wire. I felt like I was in some sort of vortex of nightmares.
He never once reached out to me as I stood there trembling and crying, utterly defeated and openly wounded. It wasn’t until an hour and half later that I was able to bring the pitch down enough that he finally put his hatchet down and I left.
I wasn’t DBing too well I’m afraid. I should have left right off the bat and not have gotten caught up in his rage fest. But I did. I played right into the whole mess. I’ve probably undone most of the good work I had accomplished over the months.
Actually, I’m not all that sure anymore that I had accomplished much at all. I really believe that he truly doesn’t want me, hasn’t for a very long time. He’s just been going through the motions.
Sorry for the long, unpleasant post. Feeling pretty hopeless.
What an awful scene! I think your H is beating you up not because he needs it, but because he needs a scapegoat. It is unfair for him to place the blame for his unhappiness with you. He's got some significant issues to address, and he's avoiding them. Maybe next time he chooses to berate you, walk out then. Don't try to calm him down, just leave. Don't take the abuse.
He said something about wanting to kill himself because of you.
That's black black depression talking and makes me wonder how much of the other things he said is also depression.
Believe me, I've been in that frame of mind before and there was no way I could get out of it myself without going on Zoloft.
Hon, I'm sorry he's said such hurtful things to you. But if he's talking about doing harm to himself, then he's really angry at himself not you.
I do wonder though if he was threatening to harm you as well in that conversation.
I don't know if it would help you, but would you consider calling a crisis line and talking to someone? They are trained to know what things are just threats and what is sincerly meant.
That's all I can think of at the moment, but I hope others with more wisdom will pop in here with some ideas for you.
I'm sorry you are hurting. Sending you a warm comforting hug.
My husband has expressed concern several times in the past that he was the cause of my depression.
I have tried my best to reassure him that he was never the cause. I have told him that there may have been things that he could have done to help, but I know he didn't do because of lack of knowledge. And it's pointless to wish that he was wise enough to help me when I couldn't help myself. It was never his responsibility...always mine. I knew something was wrong, I knew I shouldn't feel the way I was feeling and I had no idea how to fix it.
But if my husband had demanded that I go to a doctor and get checked out, I think I would have dug my heels in. It wasn't until I was in the hospital that I was finally desperate enough to try the anti-depressents.
Looking back on it, very stupid of me, considering how much they really did help me.
Please don't blame yourself. The best you can do when someone you love is depressed is ease their suffering a tiny bit. But it's going to take a real professional to really help him. And that is no reflection on you in any way. I'm speaking from personal experience so I hope I don't offend you. I may also be projecting a bit here as I wish I could convince my husband of the things I've said to you in this post!
In any case, please do something to help you feel better.
I wish I can find the words that would console your pain. Your H is a dark place right now and you can't follow. Let him be ... don't contact him, let him contact you. Stay out of the vortex. Remove yourself from his equation of all that is wrong in his life.
You are going to need to focus all your energy on yourself right now. Focus on breathing calmly ... steady ... keep your thoughts on yourself ... what you need to do for you ... stay in the light ...
I'm clinging to your words at the moment. Your posts are filled with good advice and warmth.
I wish I could be stronger than I am, I wish I didn't feel as though I was on fire in the middle of a desert and I wish I could wake from this nightmare.
Sorry, I seem to be feeling sorry for myself right now.
