I have been with him six years. I feel like I can't keep my head above
water anymore. He refuses to get treatment, try counselling, or try at
all. I can't keep doing this, but I'm trapped in his web. He's like a 40
year old child, and I'm afraid what...
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I have been with him six years. I feel like I can't keep my head above
water anymore. He refuses to get treatment, try counselling, or try at
all. I can't keep doing this, but I'm trapped in his web. He's like a 40
year old child, and I'm afraid what will happen if I leave. Will he hurt
himself? Will I feel guilty for the rest of my life? Every time I feel
like I have the strength to go, he pulls me back in. I don't love him
the way that I'm supposed to anymore. I feel like I am responsible for
him twenty four hours a day seven days a week. I can't even leave the
house for one day without preparing all of his meals for him first. When
we go out in public, I have to be on constant watch to make sure someone
doesn't do something to set him off. Something as simple as walking in
front of him at the grocery store.I let him gamble all of his money and
use my paycheck to support us because it's just easier than fighting
with him. I'm so exhausted, I don't have it in me to fight. I'm on
autopilot, I can barely function. I do everything he wants or asks even
if I hate him for it, simply because it's easier than dealing with his
outbursts and the aftermath for three days. I am crushing under the
weight of this, and lately, I have actually found myself just
fantasizing about what it would be like if I died and was finally free
of this burden. I'm not going to hurt myself, but I do think about it,
and that's the problem. I think about doing it just to escape, so I
don't have to live with the guilt, or the extreme psychological warfare
that will ensue. I don't know how to make this better. Every day that
passes I actually hate myself more for not being able to make a
decision. I hate him too, and I know that sounds bad, but sometimes I
really, actually hate him. He has completely destroyed me, but I feel
sorry for him. I know it's not completely his fault. I put myself in
this situation, so I'm just as much if not more to blame. The crazy
thing is, I grew up with a mom with BPD, and lived through hell for
fifteen years. And when I finally escaped, I got a breath of fresh air,
and put myself right back in the situation with him. Only now it's
worse. Because I gave up my entire life to move to this country to be
with him, and I'm stuck. I'm isolated and alone here, and I can't talk
to my family or friends out of embarrassment. Has anyone else been
through this with a BPD? What did you do? How do you make that final
decision? How do you separate yourself?