Marital Strife


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By trying to put logic to this subject, you’re trying to put logic to BPD.  And I ask you: Would this site even need to exist if you could put logic to BPD?  All I know is that this is what 11 years of trial and error with my husband has led to.

 

I think what I’m mostly looking for is a best friend.  One I’m not married to, that I sleep with from time to time.  Because my BPD will screw things up with Pat if I don’t sleep with them.  And I’ll start to feel trapped with Pat if I can’t sleep with them.  N would have been perfect if he wasn’t so damaged.  I need someone who isn’t damaged like Pat and I.  Who doesn’t understand why I am the way I am but accepts me as I am anyway . I need that. That was T.  He had no understanding of BPD, just knew I was damaged but saw me as special in a beautiful way.  Pat accept me as me because he can relate.  That is a beautiful acceptance and one I will never again let go of.  Pat understands fully and goes into this with knowledge.  Please don’t ever underestimate that importance.  His importance.  Right now with J and S and A and M and T and N* I’m looking for a friend first.  A best friend.  Who I will yes, probably sleep with.  That does not take from Pat’s importance, but Pat can’t take from their importance either.  I need both, not quite equally. 60/40. Pat gets the 60.

*I am not, I repeat NOT sleeping with all those people, nor will I. They are people who have come in and out of my life over the past, in one case, 2 years. Some of them are still around, others not, others barely. They are all people I’ve come upon in my quest for friendship. Also, I’m looking for friendship, not a fuck buddy. I’m just well aware that at this point in my life I need to ability to sleep with my best friend because they can make my BPD feel special in a way no one else can. Not to be confused with making me, Karen, feel special. Only Pat has full capabilities there. That’s why he’s the only one whom was allowed to put a ring on it. And the ring is back on.

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This has some controversy.  I told my mom about this and it felt like she was ready to disown me.  I think she is settling into it some.  All I can ask her for is support, if not understanding.  She doesn’t have to agree.

Neither do you.

With BPD comes black and white thinking.  You know this, yes?  Everything thing and person of importance is either white (good, without flaw) or black (evil, there is no good).  Things can start as one and become the other.  Things can bounce back and forward.  But seeing something as grey is nearly impossible.  We just have trouble reconciling that really good people make mistakes and no one is perfect, for example.  We are, all of us, flawed.

Patrick is my only grey.

But there is something exciting about those new white knights.  They show up on their gallant steads.  They’re nice to me, flirt with me, make me want to let them make me happy.  The excitement of new love blinding me to my Grey Knight, my one truest love.

Pat and I have a lot of issues.  We’ve worked through many of them and with some counseling we’ll find and then work through the rest.  In a world where things are black and white, I need the stability of my grey.  The person whom never judges me, never tires of me, never loses patience with me, loves me for who I am, and really sees me.

The biggest threat from him is the threat to leave.  This has been hashed out.

The biggest threat from me is my white knights.  This too has been hashed out.

Right now we’ll continue to live apart.  I need my space to sort shit out, as does he.  I have some soul-searching to do.  I’m still on the journey of self discovery, and right now I still need to do that without his help.

When the time comes to leave my current home, I’ll leave it for his.  We will live as husband and wife and we’ll be happy with it.

We’ll also be open.

I won’t search for white knights, I don’t feel that need, but when one swoops in I’ll let them be in my life.  No one can swoop me away from my Grey Knight, but my Grey Knight can’t offer me the feeling of new and exciting.  My Grey Knight can’t be a new toy, though I hate that term, it helps lay out the picture.

At the end of the night, my husband will be the one I return to.  He is the love of my life.  But I will date here and there.

I’m capable of being in a closed marriage.  But I’m also capable of the BPD taking over and causing strife as I resent my husband for trapping me.  The new toy calls out to me and it promises to free me from where I’m not happy, my BPD twists the situation.

This change allows for increased stability.

And I’m not the only one benefiting from it.  He has a special someone.  I trust them together.  And I see what she does for him, that I can’t.

A friend will come pick me up, is all my kids will see.  Nothing ever in front of them.  Or I’ll go out to hang out with a friend, the kids will see.  Discretion will be key.  Should they find out, they will be taught love comes in many forms and with many possible requirements and how to have an open mind.

But in a world where they would have to choose between mommy and daddy living together but mommy having special friends, or mommy and daddy living apart…  The house will be run with love and by happy parents.

The world should learn to judge not for they too can be judged.

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Look, the decision to leave the kids with Pat was impossible and yet obvious. I grieve not waking to their fighting and kissing them goodnight every night, but it was a decision that had to be made with logic and not emotion.

First, while I am biologically their mother, he has been their primary caregiver from day one. He knows them better than I do, he has attended to their needs more than I have. I would be taking them from the parent that has raised them.

Financially, he will get an increase in government aid this way that he wouldn’t otherwise get.  This may well make the difference between a roof over his head or not.

What do I do, have them live with me then put them in daycare 6 days a week while I work?

No, they are right where they should be.  My heart didn’t want to leave them with him, but it was sound, though painful, logic.  I’ll see them all the time.  Custody will be shared.  He will never deny me access.  It’s simply where they live.

It hurts like hell.

But the right thing is rarely easy and very rarely is the easy thing ever right.

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I’ve spent all week so far telling people I see daily, one by one, what I did.  I tell them as I find the breath, the power to get the words out.  See, in comparison leaving Pat was easy.  I wasn’t happy.  I haven’t been happy.  I was not going to ever get magically happy.  So I put us both out of our misery.  It’s the bit that follows that crushes my chest in, taking away my ability to breath.  My ability to get the words out.

I didn’t just walk out on my husband.  I walked out on my kids too.  I will see them all the time, yes.  But never again will I tuck them in every night and wake to them every morning.

I need to walk away from this post now.  The rest will come.  I just need time.  It’ll come in bits and pieces as I find the power to move fingers across keyboard.

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It’s just after 11 Sunday night and I’m laying on the floor of the spare room at my mom’s under the ceiling fan, using the breeze as a sensory based self soothing tool, trying to find the motivation to unpack.

I walked out on my marriage today.

I’ll talk about it later. I can’t right now. Maybe not tomorrow either.

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I’ve had snippets of thought run through my head on what I could possibly say to really get across what I’m thinking and feeling.  But nothing seems to come close.

I’ve been married for 9 years.  That’s almost 1/3 of my entire life.  Really, mostly all of my adult life.

9 years.

There are people who can’t even make it a year.  Or a month.  Or a week.

Pat and I, as messed up as we are individually and even at times, many times, together, have outlast couples far more stable than us.  Perhaps the glue that holds us together is the understanding that no one else would put up with the shit we put up with?

Or maybe it’s the mutual understanding that no one, NO ONE, can get me like my husband does, and I’d like to think I do a pretty damn good job of getting him too.

9 years.

9 years and he still loves me.  It isn’t just what he says.  It’s what he does.

Like doing his damnedest to make my poor, decrepit desk chair usable.  I didn’t ask.  He just figured out a way to “fix” it and did it.

The way he encourages me to start watching Dr Who knowing full well he’ll lose his wife to the telly for a month (at least) but also knows I’ll love it and it’s worth it.  Plus, it’s something we can share.  After he loses me to the telly for a month (at least) while I catch up.

Plunging the toilet almost every time I use it even if nothing more than just pee is being flushed.  I’m fairly sure our toilet downstairs hates me, but thank god my husband loves me.  And can use a plunger.  It’s basically a requirement for being married to me, really.

The fact I’ve carried and birthed 3 babies now and things, uh, don’t exactly work the proper fashion anymore.  But he’s patient, understanding, and willing to accept the fact he’s partially to blame anyway because he is the one who knocked me up, after all.

He’s seen me through 2 mental health hospitalizations and was able to keep me laughing the one time with the Ativan that made me out-of-it.  You had to have been there.  You weren’t.  It was just me and Pat.  And the lesbian nurse who had the hots for me that Pat swears up and down wasn’t a figment of his imagination, leaving me to question just which one of us was on the Ativan.

Hell, Pat literally saved my life that one time I was carrying furniture up a flight of stairs, hit the wall at the top, got pushed back down the stairs with the furniture riding me the whole way down.  Only a few more steps and my neck would have snapped like a twig, but he caught me.

He humours my love of my final course at Mongolian BBQ being a plate of nothing but pineapple and Teriyaki sauce.  Then started to make it for me at home because it’s so much cheaper than going to BD’s for just pineapple and Teriyaki sauce.  (I always have a couple of plates of real food to get my money’s worth, but I’m not going to lie about my real reason for wanting to go.)

He laughs at my biggest fear (of being locked int he vault at work overnight) because really if he doesn’t laugh, that’s because he thinks it’s plausible and the only way I’ll be able to enter said vault is if I don’t think my fear is rational.  Even though it totally is.  Clearly.

9 years of putting up with my shit.  Literally.  And I will never stop being thankful.

9 years.

No really!  I’ve been married for 9 years!

Not that long ago I was asked on twitter how my husband copes with my destructive behavior.  My husband pointed out that he’d let me/them know when he figured out how.

And yet?  9 years.

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Last week? Sucked! So it is way past time to discuss the moments in my life that were epic this past little bit.

1. I got to work out some anger towards a PR bitch who wanted me to blatantly lie to you guys.  For 10 dollars. Not that 10,000 would have made the difference. The 10 dollar part was simply insult to injury. Where I am willing to be sponsored or link ads to the right places, I won’t lie about it. Period. And I’ll only support what I am willing to stand behind.  I did take great joy in sending her a link to the dictionary definition of “authentic”, though.

2. One of the local Kmarts isn’t able to renew their lease due to the rent being randomly doubled.  Which sucks but they are in “please buy everything we have as fast as possible” mode and my mom took me to cash in on some good deals.  I was smart enough to stick to a list of things we’ve actually been needing for a long while.  Cuts down on the “you spent what on me?” remorse.  Plus, some will be paid back when I get my bonus in May.  So, there is that.  She/we bought:

  • Shoe rack for the bazillion pairs of shoes we have lying about.  5 people does not simply equal 5 pairs of shoes.  Nope.  We’d been using a laundry basket to dump them in.  See below.
  • Laundry baskets.  10 of them for 15$.  Yes, they are cheap and small, but still better than what I’m replacing.
  • Laundry hamper that I heart so bad! Old one? Also falling apart.
  • Shoes for me.  White dress sandals because I had a serious gap in that department.  Black flats to replace ones that are falling a apart.  And a pair of flip flops that are comfy as fuck and were like 6$.
  • Summer clothes for Sammy.  We are keeping it simply because I’m thinking it’ll be hot as Hades this year, so we stocked on onesies and some cute little sundresses
  • Trash cans.  Buying trash cans isn’t glamorous unless you have been in serious need for a couple new ones for a long ass time but can never seem to get around to it.  20% off already inexpensive?  Yeah, we can get to that!

3. Wendy’s has this new sandwich that involves spicy chicken, bacon and guacamole.  OMG I have never had a fast food sandwich that tasted even half that good.

4. I took the time to really sit and study Sammy as she rolls from back to belly.  That shit is funny, yo.  But oh the adorables!  Also?  While I wouldn’t call her mobile, she is far from stationary.  Only, she can only really go in reverse.  And girl missed the line to have review mirrors installed.

5. I was able to prove maybe I’m more ahead of the ADHD game with my 4yo than I thought.  Fidget beads are a huge success!

6. I am taking the Chibi Challenge!  If you would like to aid in my mental health ego, you are welcome to comment with 3 words that describe me.  Think positive! The results are going to be built into a word cloud, not unlike what I posted all day Sunday.  They are fun to make though.  You can make them on Wordle.

7. I am in talks with Becky and while I’m not currently a Brain Behind The Band, my return is in the future once I get the rest of my life squared away.  I just need to focus on other things so that I have the energy free to give the band all the energy that I choose to give.

9. I am to the point where while a Mt Dew would sound awesome, I would no longer kill for it.  Just maybe maim.

10. My husband is seeing and commenting on noticeable signs of improvement in my mood over this time last week.  So maybe I am right that yes I can be off my meds, this past week just really did suck.  I got a lot of feedback from others as well that dude, the week sucked.  BUT if I can survive that week med free, I can survive anything med free.

So those are my glitter spots that I’m hanging onto.  Do you have any you care to share?

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