Thursday 24 December 2009

Snapshots

"I'm not going to try to win you back this time," BN2 told me, and he hasn't. I thought I might hear from him – or his mother, who called and texted me when I broke things off in May – but there is... silence.

I wish I could say it's a relief, but it's like waiting for the other shoe to drop. All day yesterday I was nervous when I saw the flashing light on my blackberry indicating a text or an email. I emailed him yesterday saying I'd transferred the money I'd owed him, switched my mobile broadband from his company account to my own account, and asked about the logon details to a URL he bought on my behalf. (It's always been a bit of a sore spot with him that I've done nothing much about setting up shop on it, but honestly, I don't think it's a great way to get assignments, so it never made it to the top of my priority list.) Silence.

I think it's going to take an awfully long time to get his voice – the voice of disapproval – out of my head. Even writing the email described above took about 10 times longer than it should have, as I thought about how he'd write back angrily about how clinical it was; how final. Every sentence I wrote I could imagine his response.

Because of the onslaught of texts and emails the last time, I feared my ability to get through until tomorrow (well, later today), when I get on a plane for the US. I thought I would only truly be safe – by which I mean, safe from any chance of going down there for Christmas, and thus entangling myself in this relationship yet again -- when the plane door closed.

Basically, I just want to go to sleep and wake up about six weeks to two months from now. I'm doing OK at the moment, but I know from experience that the worst moments aren't actually in the days immediately following a breakup, when all your friends are checking up on you. It's in a couple of weeks, when everyone goes back to their normal routines and there's just you and... you're not sure what. Or I'm not sure what. Luckily a very lovely friend emailed me a 2010 agenda – lots of lovely things we've spoken about doing. So there is that to look forward to. Plus I have actual work to do – had an essay commissioned at the last minute that needs a bit of work before the Jan. 4 deadline, and I have to submit some story ideas Jan. 6 to a magazine I'd like to write for. I do dread the first weekend I'm back as currently it's pretty empty, but I guess it wouldn't kill me to do some major work on flat-clearing. After all, I've just had to dump 12 bin bags of my stuff at BN2's in the middle of it...

I keep seeing two images in my head of him that make me sad: him limping away (he had a gout attack) as he followed me down the street Saturday, and then finally gave up. And then him limping back into the house after I left Monday. It's the limp that kills me.

In November, when I didn't have the courage to leave but knew I couldn't go on as I was forever, I started jotting down notes about his behavior. Partly it was to reassure myself that I wasn't making this up, or imagining how bad it was. Partly it was to gauge the frequency with which my nights were being ruined (that was one of the things I said to him a couple of weeks ago: That I couldn't bear to have at least every other night of my life ruined by him having a go at me for hours, and not letting it drop, no matter how much I apologized). And maybe partly it was to have a record – something to look back at now and remind myself that leaving was a good decision. Probably the only decision.

I didn't write down everything and what I wrote was only the barest of detail – when I had a few minutes when he wasn't around (which wasn't often), and when I could bear to relive it (which also wasn't often -- I don't think I wrote down the very worst things) Here's a sampler from early November:

5 November
He'd just asked me to give a DVD a test play on the computer – he was trying to get it out the door to a client. It didn't work. After the computer monitor went out because he leaned against the desk (while I was trying to eBay his daughter's car seat, for the record), I told him the monitor had gone out.

"Why are you telling me that?" he snapped.

"Because I thought you might be giving me a DVD to try again."

"Well, I'm not, so can we just leave it?" he snapped.

I struggled to get the computer to work again, checking all the cables. He came over and flicked the power switch on the wall. "I think that's your problem," he said.

"I didn't touch it," I said.

"Who fucking cares?" he yelled, so loud it made me shake (quake?) with fear.

Silence. This after a morning where I (a) looked after his daughter, gave her breakfast, took her to nursery because he was ill and (b) made him a doctor's appointment and then walked with him to the doctor's (I didn't WANT to walk to the doctor's with him, but when he suggested it I knew it would cause a fight if I didn't. Ditto with the night before, where I stayed up at least an hour and a half later than I wanted, because he wanted me to stay up with him while he finished his work.)

I chalked it up as stress and thought maybe he'd apologize once the courier had picked up the DVD. Nope.

I wondered idly what would happen if I ventured (timidly) that I thought I was owed an apology. I didn't dare find out.

8 November
I arrive home from a weekend away – a weekend he has fought for ages in every way he knew how, but I have stood my ground. He tells me about an email from his ex-wife – they have a very acrimonious relationship, and I have spent hours and hours and hours listening to him on the subject, not to mention reading court papers and generally feeling like I'm his punching bag because of her misdeeds.

Although I expressed sympathy he looked angry. When I asked what was wrong he told me that I hadn't told him anything like that she's a cow. I told him I was surprised that he'd even question my support at this point – see paragraph above – he told me that sometimes I said I could see things from her side. This spiralled into a massive tirade on his part about what a cold fish I am, and how wrapped up I am in myself that I can't even do the little niceties. It was about a half hour of apologizing before he calmed down.

Later that night while drinking Beechams – I have come back from the weekend ill, which also makes him cross (he snaps that I wouldn't have gotten ill if I'd stayed home) -- he told me to inhale it because he could hear me breathing loudly. I said that I was. He said that I clearly wasn't, and began a very familiar tirade about my "squirming" – that I lie, and that I only admit it when I'm cornered. To which – certainly about the Beechams – I wanted to scream: "Who fucking cares?" We went to bed in silence.

10 November
On the phone with a repair man he's asking me if I'm free various times. I can't do the Wednesday because I'm supposed to be picking up his daughter from nursery and taking her to ballet while he's doing his volunteer police shift. He asks me about a time Thursday morning and it takes me a minute to respond – I'm not sure why. I think it's because I'm not sure he's asking me about Wednesday or Thursday, so I tell him I'm clarifying (which I thought I did). This becomes a whole argument about me lying/squirming/whatever that I wish I could reconstruct, but it makes my head explode. When I apologize and say my head was muddled because I was sick, he says I'm the one who drags these things on and on because of my lying/squirming. This pisses me off at this point and I snap back: Yes, BN2, I lie and make sh*t up all the time. Then, of course, I promptly apologize. Again.

Later that night, playing a computer game, he's helping me on a quest and starts yelling at me in a nasty tone (not that you can yell in a nice tone, I guess) about whether I'm alert. He's furious when my character dies, and when his character then dies, too. A few minutes later my character dies after his and I don't tell him and he thunders at me that I can do this one on my own. I apologize and apologize, but there is silence for the rest of the night.

8 comments:

  1. That sounds truly horrible. For what it's worth, it absolutely sounds like your decision to leave was the right one. I recently went through a break-up as well, and the hardest part for me is not ruminating on the past. I tend to remember the good times and forget the reasons why we were totally incompatible. I guess that's human nature!

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  2. Dear god, Beth, that's no way to live. It's got that you're lancing the boil by spilling some of that poison out here. And I think on days when it feels easier to go back, you can read this and remind yourself how bad it is. As Christina says, sometimes, when you're feeling low, you can only remember the good times - I hope there were some but there's no way that the goodest of good times can make up for this level of casual cruelty and bullying.

    2010 - it's going to be Year of the Beth. Oh yes.

    love
    Peridot x

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  3. I know what it's like to be in a 'walking on glass' relationship. You need to be able to relax. Stress is very fattening. ;)

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  4. What a terrible poisonous bully. I knew someone just like this. I keep all his vicious e-mails to remind me never, never to go back.

    Have a safe and happy trip.

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  5. He sounds like a classic Borderline

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  6. "Its so clinical and final."

    Yep, that's the point -- it's called a breakup for a reason.

    Your friend Christy is right -- classic BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder). I highly recommend the book StoP Walking On Eggshells -- pick it up while in the US, Barnes and NOble should have it. Chris was BPD too...

    It is amazing how instinctive some of this is, because I remember a point LONG before I left Chris when I started jotting down all the awful things he said and did to me... like proof... the list, sadly, was long...

    Merry Christmas... be strong... you have done the absolutely best thing... and when you are on the other side of it, like me, you'll look back and snicker at the person you were, the person that tolerated that behavior and put up with it... and you never will again...

    Hugs,
    Jess

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  7. The point isn't how bad he was/is; the point is that you were/are unhappy. It doesn't matter what he did or whether anyone agrees that you are justified in your decision. You felt bad when you were around him; he can't argue you into being happy. It's not like he could suddenly say something and you'd be hit by a bolt of clarity and say, "Of course, how could I have been so stupid?" You have been very unhappy for a long time. It doesn't matter whose fault it is (although we all think its his fault, clearly). What matters is that you tried hard, it didn't work, you were miserable, and you deserve to be happy. I hope that you have a good vacation with your sister (how did I not realize that she was your twin?) Try to enjoy yourself; and if sharing the crappy stuff that he did makes you feel better - please share! I love to hear stuff about other shitty husbands/partners. Makes me feel like less of a loser for putting up with my ex for as long as I did!

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  8. No-one deserves to deal with that kind of behaviour. Why the hell should you spend your life apologising for inconsequential crap? You don't have that in a functioning, adult relationship Beth.

    Peridot is right, spill all the nastyness out. I found internalising everything that happened warps it somehow, you need to be clear that this is the absolute best thing for you ever.

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