I love my husband, and I think he’s the best person by far I’ve ever been involved with. I certainly never liked anyone enough to want to marry them before. He’s smart and kind and funny and handsome and he laughs at soooooo many of my jokes and we have great chemistry. He puts up with my obnoxious dogs and gets along with my friends. He has a good and admirable job. He tells me I’m smart and beautiful, and it seems like he means it.
I don’t know why I’m like this. I don’t know why it feels safer to do less and less than to keep trying to get better, but I know I’ve created this situation where I can be with someone who will put up with that and make sure we have food and shelter. I have a lot of good friends who care about me and I know they know I’m struggling and I know I make it extremely difficult for anyone to help me because I just shut them out if they try to bring up things that make me uncomfortable.
You think you’re going to feel better, once you walk away from everything that’s currently propping you up. The oxygen is different across town. The weather is different across the country. But mostly what you’ll lose is this witness, who sees how sick you are, who knows how broken you are, who makes things uncomfortable day after day after day. You want to shut out this last witness, who embodies your failure. You want to crumble all by yourself. He’s doing too well. He triggers your shame.
Being vulnerable and admitting how confused and sick and angry and ashamed you are is like stripping out the mold and the rotted boards from your house. And when you dare to let someone else into that kind of deep sadness, when you dare to tell someone else, out loud, in words, “I am against you, I am against myself, I hate myself every minute of every day,” you’re daring to try on a different kind of love that no one sings about.
You don’t need to hit rock bottom, all alone. Obviously you can choose that, if you want to. You can believe that old myth, that cutting yourself off and falling to pieces is more heroic, somehow, than being vulnerable and staying connected to the people who love you. You can live the way you feel you deserve to live: destitute, abandoned, penniless, loveless. You can shut out the last good person in your life.
It’s time to do the hardest thing: to make real, deep connections based on honesty. It’s no coincidence that THIS is how people recover from hitting rock bottom, too — after they try suicide, after they destroy all of their relationships and wind up in AA: They see that they have nothing, so they might as well tell the truth. What else is there? Might as well admit how much they hate themselves. Might as well admit how invisible they feel.
Leave him sis
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