What does this even mean?


This morning before H left for his flight:

H: Hey listen, I’m sorry about being less than supportive lately. It’s just that it gets to me too and sometimes I get frustrated.*

Me: Uh, ok. Thank you for telling me that. [obligatory hug, inner squirm, not the good kind]

Background: Last night I told him a bunch of pieces of the puzzle I had just put together. I told him he had to fix his issues just like I had to fix mine. He does not see that our relationship is a big part of the exacerbation of my C-PTSD. I am trying to stay out of the line of fire and working on breaking cycles. I don’t believe he sees any connection between my re-injuries and the common thread of his controlling and angry behavior. He basically seems to believe he [now] has an excuse to act like shit – because maybe he didn’t for years – rather than seeing that his acting like shit actually endangers me more. I honestly think he does not care because he is so scared of losing me that he’s willing to let me fracture myself [even more], risking my mental health entirely. We’re talking about passing the point of no return here folks. That’s how potent his fear is. He’s willing to sacrifice the person he [says he] loves the most in the whole world, for the sake of the false god of fear. It has nothing to do with me.

See, there’s nothing I can do to get him to realize his problems because I’m busy with my own. [kinda fighting for my life over here…] I can’t even risk the use of the word “abusive” because I do not want to be responsible for breaking the cracked shell of his ego. A well-trained therapist has to handle things. Until he decides to handle this on his own, I have to minimize the threat of his behavior to my mental health. Hyper-arousal/vigilance is exhausting. I can’t ask him to look up C-PTSD stuff to support me. He already knows how he learns best, whatever the mode, and he is quite capable of doing this for himself. I won’t do his work here, I’m doing my own.

I remember before Christmas he told me he wanted me to move back in for the rest of the school year for the kids’ sake. I hedged. I told him it wasn’t right for me but that I’d compromise and spend more time at the house. Possession being 9/10 and all that, now I catch holy wrath if I go to the apartment, at all, ever! (I digress.) The point is that he said “we could lean on each other” (that was codependent code for [whatever]…) which sounded absolutely terrifying and hideous to me! Just thinking about it makes me feel like I can’t breathe.

I can’t regulate his behavior for him. Hell, I can’t even regulate my own.


* referring to his nasty mirroring/minimizing thing when I needed space on Saturday.


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