What he doesn’t ask

He doesn’t ask if I’m ok.

Instead, he asks if I’ve taken anything. I haven’t. I can’t blame him for asking that I suppose…but… I wish he would ask if I was ok. Maybe he doesn’t need to. He knows I’m not ok, hence the ‘taken anything’ question, so maybe he thinks there’s no point in asking. 

It’s such a shame because it feels like he doesn’t care. He obviously does. Obviously. Thing is that it feels like he cares more about his to-do list than my wellbeing. “Have you taken anything?” feels like his way of asking “are there other things for me to have to do” (on top of all the other things…and not because he wants to do these things…) I feel like a spoilt child. 

Ten minutes earlier when he arrived home I asked if he was ok, he coughed something. This cough means ‘I’m not fine but we won’t talk about that because of you‘. Sigh. This isn’t how I want our relationship to be, so I tentatively said he seemed tense. His words: “I’ve just arrived home and I’m trying to assess what I need to do”.

Right. Whatever. Sorry for existing. Perhaps  I’ll just crawl in a hole and die?

It’s not like I’m fucking useless. I’ve done so much today. I was up before 7am to clean up the puppy mess in the kitchen before the family came down. I took pup on a walk. I had a shower. There was a huge stress vet emergency with the puppy this morning and I dealt with it. I also generally tidied up. I did a lot of online stuff that needed doing and required information and passwords (not easy with a broken brain). I fixed the hoover. I cleaned the window sill. I cleaned the carpet over and over. I vacuumed. I handled my son coming home with two friends. I conversed with one of said friends’ father. I made myself dinner. I sorted out dishes/dishwasher and cleaned surfaces in kitchen. So tell me this – why am I painted out to be fucking useless?!?! I’m not useless. Sometimes I struggle. Ok, quite often I struggle but I also achieve so much. Why is that never celebrated? Why is it only the deep sigh and what he needs to do?

I very nearly snapped back was he looking for an opportunity to call me stupid? After all, when I actually did overdose that’s what he did; he called me stupid, asked me who was going to take our son to football and left me to ring my own ambulance. I’ve been over this a lot with various mental health people and they always urge me to see it from his point of view. I don’t know why because I can already see it from his point of view given that BPD comes with the buckets of empathy. I must admit though I do struggle to get my head around his concern for our son’s football training over my own survival sitting there with a lethal overdose inside of me.

No matter.

He said to me this evening “I feel like you analyse everything I do and say as soon as I arrive home!”. Hmmm. I suppose I do, a bit. I mean he refuses to be open about how he feels so I’ve got to try and suss it out. I couldn’t resist a dig in reply so I said “it’s called hypervigilance and is a pretty standard part of PTSD…” Then I gave up. DBT tells me to not make things worse so I left the room and came to bed. Yes, I caved in and came to bed. You’d think I spend my life in bed as he talks about it every day. It’s actually very rare that I come to bed now. Yesterday on top of general functioning I ran 4 miles because, y’know, I’m so weak.

Well fuck it. He wants to make out he does everything then let him. 

I get the sense that I’m being incredibly unfair.

I love him. He is a good man and so kind and caring to me. He just doesn’t get how to support me and that is frustrating for us both. And then there’s splitting. I must be mindful of that love/loathe coin that flips inside of me. I wonder if he thinks he doesn’t need to attend to my emotional needs because that’s what therapy is for? Holy crap I hope not! 

I just don’t know if I can trust my own feelings, thoughts and judgements and that is scary.

If only he’d asked.

I would have told him.