It's all over but the crying

I have told him I want a separation.  I’ve moved into the guest bedroom.  Every step I take away from him he is a bewildered little boy, not understanding how this could happen to him.  Whatever he’s wondering, it’s been happening a year and a half.  I feel I’ve told him every step of the way what his behavior would lead to.  But inevitably, according to him, it’s my entire fault.  

He says my internal system doesn’t communicate well enough.  (Well, god damn, why didn’t he just say so and I would have fixed it already!)

He says he only married one of us; he didn’t bargain for the plural lifestyle. 

He says I take him for granted. 

He says other things, but I don’t remember what they are.  I ask him to write them down.  He says no.

I know he feels alone.  He has alluded to suicide several times.  I doubt my decision to leave sometimes.  I keep asking myself if it’s really that bad that I would betray the covenant I swore before God.  The only reason it’s not bad right now is because we aren’t really talking.  But it is that bad. 

I’m grasping at straws for how to cope.  The negative thoughts slink back in, wanting me to hurt myself some way or another, some way to be able to catch my breath and fill this hole in my heart.  Anything to numb out.  Any way to make myself think of something else.  I would very much like to melt away.

The definition of "Help me"

It's so hard to get these posts started. I just don't know where to begin. I feel everything and I feel nothing. I am angry but I'm calm. I'm sad but have no tears to show for it. Then there's the nothingness lulling me with her sweet numbness. I think I'll take her side.

I don't know what's really wrong with me. Maybe it's the fact I put my husband in a psych ward yesterday. Maybe it's because it brings up my own terror images of being locked away. Maybe it's because the last thing husband said to me was that a part of him wanted to kill me. I think that fits well.

I feel sorry for the spouses, partners, and friends who support us. Husband has it hard. I have several members who are crazy for tattoos. We have four tattoos already. They want several more. I personally don't like tattoos but I feel all members should have an outlet, like the littles should have their Barbies and Fruit Loops and the teenagers should have music and makeup. So why should I say no to other members just because Husband hates tattoos?

It was this fight that sparked his down spiral again. He is angry at me because I allow the tattoos; I don't stop it. Sometimes, when going to get a tattoo, I do want to turn the car around but I'm compelled, pushed forward to the tattoo shop. And when I look in the mirror and see the final piece I grimace but the face in the mirror is all smiles.

He says we value tattoos over him; we love the tattoos more. It's not black or white but his thinking is and this led to comments made by me about leaving him. My thinking at the time was that I just can't deal with him anymore. But I did tell him if he went to the hospital I would stay for now. But I don't see what good the hospital can do. His feelings about us will not change. The hospital will not change his view of our getting tattoos. And I feel completely betrayed by him when he doesn't show other members love other than the ones that are easy to like, for example, the littles.

A lot of damage has been done to this marriage. He was my rock, my support, my everything. I relied on him for almost everything. Which may or may not have been a good thing, but it is what it is.

I've refused to talk to him. He's called four or five times but I can't imagine what he could have to say to me. Every word would be my recall for the verbal daggers he's thrown at me.

Again, I know it's hard on loved ones who have to cope with our illness perhaps as much as we do. He's always done everything he could to accommodate me. It's a shame to lose it over stupid tattoos.

In any case, I hope this reaches someone out there, some reader in Internet land. Maybe then I won't feel so despondent, alone, and hopeless. Right now I feel like hurting myself with a glorious razor blade or the bright flame of a lighter, but I won't. I'll find other, less effective ways to cope.

Relationships

I've been mulling this topic over since the weekend and have been trying to figure out how to write a sanitized version of what took place.
One of the many things we've learned with D.I.D. is just how hard relationships are to maintain.

I've been married over ten years. In fact, Valentine's Day marks 10 1/2 years of marriage. That's an accomplishment for someone who doesn't have to deal with dissociation, so for someone like us with D.I.D., it's almost impossible. We've heard of many marriages busting over the difficulty dealing with a spouse who is dissociative.
Husband and I have had our ups and downs. One thing we've always agreed on is "I do" has meant "I do" and neither of us have looked to abandon the other to divorce when we weren't getting along.

However, time seems to be molding us into a couple that just puts up with one another. I feel sorry for Husband. I know it's not easy living with someone with D.I.D.; Lord knows he tells me that all the time. Well, not all the time, but he's said it on more than one occasion. He tells me he doesn't always know how to act around us, that we give off mixed signals, that we've changed since marrying us.

Changed is an understatement. In all fairness, when we married, we hadn't accepted the diagnoses of D.I.D., and so didn't tell Husband. It wasn't until later in the marriage that we couldn't deny the symptoms anymore and things started falling apart. But Husband is right; we have changed. When we married we didn't have pink hair, nose piercings, and tattoos. How he HATES the tattoos!!!

I think he could live with all that but there is an area of our marriage that is under fire and he doesn't know how to deal with it; I don't either, for that matter. You see, we aren't as close in the Biblical sense as we used to be, if you know what I mean. In the beginning of our marriage, we as a system used to engage in "the act" because we didn't respect ourselves, so it didn't matter if "the act" hurt us or not. Now that we're trying to heal, that area of our lives is off limits to him until we get some healthier views toward s*xual relations. So, basically, Husband is having to go without and he doesn't know how to deal with it and that makes me feel guilty for depriving him. As a result, Husband and I have lost a sense of emotional closeness that gets fed by being physically close and that breaks my heart. Still, we as members can't give in until we have healed more, otherwise it would be too damaging.

So over the weekend Husband and I were arguing over the lack of closeness and if we would ever resume a physical relationship again. He feels it's hopeless. I have no answers for him. For me, it's just another brick in the wall; another hurdle that needs to be overcome before we can ever come close to "normal."
And that's all I have to say about that.